October 4th, 2006

All anyone could do was look out the eighth-story windows of our building as the explosions in the distance drew slowly closer.

I left all of the people standing with me and went into an empty supply room, where I took to thinking of what I should do to prepare for my death. As I realized that there was nothing I could do, I took comfort in two things. Firstly, I knew that God would take care of my soul after I died. This, of course, led to a worry of whether or not I would get into heaven. I thought of praying and asking God to ensure my soul safe passage from the earth to a better place, but I realized that God was not going to be persuaded by a dying plea. He knew whether or not I truly believed in Him and whether my soul was worthy of heaven, and either way I wasn’t going to be able to convince him one way or another simply by asking him. So my thoughts turned to another judge: myself. As I thought over the fact that I was dying so young and had been denied the opportunity to accomplish everything I had hoped to, I realized that I had managed to accomplish the most important thing I could have. I was happy with the person I had become. I was glad to be a person of integrity who takes pride in himself and pursues his goals; I realized that as far as character is concerned, I had become everything I wanted. Whether I live to be 20 or 200, I realized that the person I am truly defines my success, not the person I should be, or someday will be. At this point, I stopped worrying about dying. And as I waited, my only remaining fear was that I wouldn’t die in this moment, that I would be forced to live my last remaining days in anything less than the perfect contentment I felt.