![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Topic 9: One Hour To Live
Feb. 20th, 2006 11:22 amAh. Well, a man in my profession usually tries to change the circumstances, thus ensuring it will not be, in fact, his last hour. This does demand creative thinking and a certain self discipline, whether involving the sacrifice of bodily limbs or the application of logic when your best friend drags you to the men's room and demands explanations with a gun in his hand.
However, I take it the question refers to circumstances which are indeed unalterable. I faced this situation, too, and found it quite maddening. Not because I was convinced I would die in an hour - which in a certain way did happen - but because of the reason, and the timing. I would not have minded nearly any other situation leading to my demise as much. The hour in question was spent sharing a bottle of wine and some acerbic conversation with the earlier mentioned Mr. Bristow. I also composed my death speech entirely in his honour, because really, what the other witnesses thought about my fate was quite immaterial to me. (Though I will admit I found it oddly touching when Dixon stopped me on the way to the execution chamber to tell me he had prayed for me. To this day, I wonder whether he expected me to ask him for forgiveness in return. Now that is something which I definitely do not intend to do during any amount of time before my death. There are reasons why I would regard it as a quite distateful thing to do on two accounts.) As Jack had stated certain intentions in regards to my then unknown daughter, I was indulging in a last exercise in rethorics to ensure he would not carry them out.
Now, obviously I survived. And many things have changed since then. But when I find myself contemplating a repetition of circumstance - which is not out of the question currently - I must admit I could not think of anything better to do with those last sixty minutes. No, I would not wish to spend them with Nadia, even if Nadia were awake and conscious once more. She has seen too much death in her life, and I do not want her to witness mine, or even the immediate prelude. Sydney, now Sydney would be an option, as she is one of the two people I always assumed would one day be my death anyway, but I find that her pregnancy has changed this for me. Ideally, I would wish her to be elsewhere with her child, celebrating life instead.
Jack, though. We faced death so many times together, from virtually every perspective there is, that I am afraid I would rather insist on his company. As conversation and wine are two things I have always treasured, it would be my choice this time as well.
I have no doubt I will get them again, you know. Jack has always been accomodating that way.
However, I take it the question refers to circumstances which are indeed unalterable. I faced this situation, too, and found it quite maddening. Not because I was convinced I would die in an hour - which in a certain way did happen - but because of the reason, and the timing. I would not have minded nearly any other situation leading to my demise as much. The hour in question was spent sharing a bottle of wine and some acerbic conversation with the earlier mentioned Mr. Bristow. I also composed my death speech entirely in his honour, because really, what the other witnesses thought about my fate was quite immaterial to me. (Though I will admit I found it oddly touching when Dixon stopped me on the way to the execution chamber to tell me he had prayed for me. To this day, I wonder whether he expected me to ask him for forgiveness in return. Now that is something which I definitely do not intend to do during any amount of time before my death. There are reasons why I would regard it as a quite distateful thing to do on two accounts.) As Jack had stated certain intentions in regards to my then unknown daughter, I was indulging in a last exercise in rethorics to ensure he would not carry them out.
Now, obviously I survived. And many things have changed since then. But when I find myself contemplating a repetition of circumstance - which is not out of the question currently - I must admit I could not think of anything better to do with those last sixty minutes. No, I would not wish to spend them with Nadia, even if Nadia were awake and conscious once more. She has seen too much death in her life, and I do not want her to witness mine, or even the immediate prelude. Sydney, now Sydney would be an option, as she is one of the two people I always assumed would one day be my death anyway, but I find that her pregnancy has changed this for me. Ideally, I would wish her to be elsewhere with her child, celebrating life instead.
Jack, though. We faced death so many times together, from virtually every perspective there is, that I am afraid I would rather insist on his company. As conversation and wine are two things I have always treasured, it would be my choice this time as well.
I have no doubt I will get them again, you know. Jack has always been accomodating that way.
