One day he came up to me and introduced himself. I couldn't have been more than 2 or 3 years old. I was playing in the lagoon and was pushed over by a wave. The water was only about waist deep, but I couldn't swim and I couldn't find my way to the surface. I caught glimpses of him standing there, looking at me, waiting. My very first meeting to my recollection. I was pulled out of the water by my aunt. I looked around, searching, but he was not there. Was it only my imagination? It was not. Since that incident, he became a constant companion. Just out of reach, but always watching, waiting... As the years went past, he became less important to me. The memories of that day faded. A couple of years later I saw him again. He was hunched besides a bench at the airport, watching me. I got separated from my parents and when I spotted them they were already well on their way to the parkinglot. I started to run to catch up. Almost just reaching the other side of the road, my eyes met his and a car hit me from the side. As everybody came rushing to me, all I could do is look at him. Finally he got up and disappeared out of my sight. It happened so fast, I must have imagined him. Many years went by. In those passing years, I saw him several times. Every time single time, a family member passed on...or a pet. I started associating him with pain, despair and sadness. December 2001 was as any other December. Life always went on. I started noticing him in the store, in my back yard, at my mom's house, at work. A feeling of foreboding went through me. On the 8th day I woke and he was sitting on my bed, staring out the window... As I heard the music coming from the living room, I knew this day would end bad. I made my peace with God and left the day in His hands. That night as the bullet tore through me, he stood there...in the passage...his hand on my daughters shoulder. I thought for sure this would be my final meeting with him. But he just stood there. As the pain set in and the blood rushed out of me, he smiled. I could hear a whisper in my head "not your time", but that night, he never left my side....waiting... That was the last BIG meeting I had with him. Over the next few years, he would pop in and out of my life always leaving sadness in his wake. I learned to fear what he represented. I started to disassociate myself emotionally from people I knew, thinking that it would lessen the blow of loosing someone. It did not. I am no stranger to death and loss. In the last couple of years I have learned to accept death as part of life. I'm not afraid of him anymore, only sad. Sad for the people that will be left behind. Now, Death, it is my turn.....I am here....waiting...
