It Was One Week Before She Died

​It was one week before she died. Or maybe two. It’s hard to remember all the details from that time.

She sat down with her doctor to talk. Things hadn’t been going too well.

A month earlier, the house she’d lived in for almost 30 years burned to the ground in a massive wildfire. 

The only thing left was part of a melted cast iron railing and the burned out shell of a dryer in the garage. She hadn’t lived there for a few years, but she was devastated by the loss of so many wonderful memories.

Smoke filled the air even after the fire was contained. She’d suffered from respiratory problems and it was hard to breathe. She was talking with her doctor about her wishes for the future and her thoughts about life.

And she said to no one in particular, “One thing that I regret at this point in my life is that I didn’t have more sexual adventures. What was I saving myself for?”

Life is so complex. We’re trying to be good women (whatever that means.) And we’re sexual beings who’re struggling to keep ourselves alive in the middle of everything else. We may be facing physical issues or hurt feelings. We’re often confronted with cultural messages and personal traumas. And we have stress. At a level.

But you and I are still alive right now. We can make decisions with our own lives. We can have more sexual adventures - whatever that means to us. Because our sexuality is a gift. It’s our potential to connect with another human being in pure pleasure. A clear channel.

Let’s not waste it.