Creative Writing / Repeat after me: death. And other essays. / The Latest

#13 Drink the whisky

2014-08-23 07.25.01

My Father had a bottle of whisky, Johnny Walker Blue Label. He received it as a present and always told us that he was keeping it for the right moment. My Father never had expensive things and that bottle of whisky was one of his treasures. Growing up poor, he had learned to cherish what was given to him and what he was able to afford. He was hard working, despite rheumatoid arthritis. And even in earlier stages of his cancer, he worked just as hard.

My Father died and that whisky never touched his lips. It is still entombed in its bottle, wrapped in velvet and covered in a hard cardboard box. My Father’s hardworking attitude, his desire to preserve and look after what he could call his own ended up being both his greatest trait and greatest downfall. Rather than waiting for that perfect moment to crack open the bottle of whisky, my Father should have opened it. He should have opened it the first day he got it. But my Father was a hardworking man, who couldn’t dream of doing something for himself.

Before his chemo started, I told him, “Let’s open the bottle.”

He replied, “No, we can open it when I am done with this cancer.”

That day never came.

I see too many people waiting for the right moment. Waiting and waiting and waiting. The right moment doesn’t exist though. It is a fantasy you have made up in your head. Hardworking, good people go without, delay their pleasures and joys for fear of losing what they have worked so hard to earn, to possess, to hold on to. But, whisky, like life, is supposed to be enjoyed. It is not supposed to be shoved in a cupboard waiting patiently to come out. So, if you ask for my advice, drink the bottle of whisky!

3 thoughts on “#13 Drink the whisky