The rays of the morning sun kissed her cheek as her mother gave her a wake up nudge. The bright summer morning looked promising, and she felt that extra rush of energy to crawl out of bed. She knew today was going to be different; unlike other days when she stayed in bed all day.
Off late, she had been severely unwell and this got her parents worried. Otherwise, an enthusiastic and full-of-life 18-year-old, she had not been herself for nearly two months. The diagnosis was least expected, devastating her and her family. To add to this, the latest prognosis had left her gloomy.
The sun was at its brightest, and she took out the bucket list she had meticulously filled up since she was little. Today, she made new additions to it. This included taking a trip around the world, writing poetry, gardening, painting, living near the countryside, and pretty much everything she ever wanted to do. The catch was, her list was longer than her lifespan. Death was following her like a shadow, but she couldn’t stop living.
As a little girl, she had travelled widely with her parents. Once again, she wanted to be daddy’s little girl playing hide-and-seek with the waves; she wanted to bask in the morning sun with her dog; she wanted to read stories to her parents like they did when she was young; she wanted to have endless conversations with her mother in the kitchen while she cooked—conversations about everything—from God to Google, fairy tales to Facebook, and death to eternity. She wanted the transient moments to be forever etched in their memories.
This was her—an HIV patient who wanted to live it up when life seemed to be eluding her.