The Counting-Downers (38 page)

Next to me, Daisy giggles as the ocean waves cover her tiny feet from her spot on the sandy shore. Safe in the reassuring comfort of my tight grip, she has the confidence to venture closer and kick at the water, laughing as it splashes before running away and hiding behind my leg as it makes its way back toward her.

In her mind, she’s playing a strange game of tag with the sea. She hasn’t quite worked out that the tide comes and goes with the same perfect rhythm that moves time forward and seconds down.

If only time could stop but the world could still turn. If only I could capture this moment forever in one of the bottles that are bobbing out to sea and into the unknown. If only I
knew
the unknown.

If only.

If only.

If only.

Much like
what if
,
if only
gets you nowhere. We need to stop thinking in conditionals and hypotheticals. And start thinking in realities.

Time
won’t
stop, and the world will always turn until it won’t. Moments can only ever partially be captured, and I’ll never know the unknown.

But just because I won’t know everything, doesn’t mean I don’t know some things.

I know that life is what you make it.

I know that living, truly, deeply, freely, takes courage.

And I know that if given the chance, I’ll search to recreate this perfect moment with my family in every lifetime yet to come.

Matilda rests her head on my shoulder as we look out at the sinking sun beyond the sea. She gives a speaking sigh that tells of her utter serenity and happiness in the moment. The same feelings slide through my veins and seep into my overflowing soul.

Our daughter experiences and enjoys the ocean with childish abandon at our feet as my arm wraps around my wife’s waist to where my unborn son lies in wait, almost ready to join a world that is often as cruel as it is kind.

He is the happiest of us all because he does not yet know of time and the power it has over our lives. Although we try to control it in a million different ways, the only things you can ever do to time are enjoy it, or waste it. That’s it.

Still, as if by psychic silent agreement, we allow ourselves to indulge in the illusion of the impossible, as I reach into my pocket and she reaches around her neck.

Breathing as one, we inhale futile, fragile hope as we suspend time the only way we know. Unfortunately, words don’t always correlate with actions, because if it did, time would stop just because we told it to.

Yet we try, as you must always try, to capture, to freeze, to absorb, to feel, to
live
in the moment as much as we can, for as long as we can.

Pressing and pulling, we pause the moment with our hearts instead of minds.

As time ticks on.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Thanks for reading my book! I hope you enjoyed it. I thought I’d give you a little insight into my thoughts while writing
The Counting-Downers
and put it into context.

The majority of my writings start with a question. I’m incredibly introspective and inquisitive. I’m fascinated by people and life, and my natural curiosity about those things leads me to ask Big Questions that often have no answer. I was that annoying kid who always asked,
“But why?”

The idea for the book came out of one of the most troubling and life-changing experiences I’ve had so far.

I was at a work dinner when an elderly member of the team choked on his food at the table. Despite our best efforts to administer the basic first aid we could remember (a lesson for another day), the ambulance took a long time to arrive and he slowly died right before my eyes on the restaurant floor. It’s a sight I’ll never forget and wouldn’t wish on anyone. The only consolation was that he was in his eighties and ‘had a good run.’

But at twenty-two, that night changed everything for me. It brought the clichés and catchphrases about life being short and living each day like it was your last to reality. Like everyone else, I’d made myself a million empty promises to ‘seize the day’ whenever something bad happened, but never really followed through.

In the days, weeks, and months that followed, I just kept thinking about that night. How we all went from joking and talking in happiness to despairing in tragedy within the literal blink of an eye. None of us saw it coming. I thought about the wife he left at home that night to go out to dinner, who said goodbye not realising it would be the last time she saw him alive.

And it got me thinking. What would it be like if we could see the ‘numbers’ of how much time the people around us had left? How would that change things? The words we said? The way we behaved? The people we were? If we knew the exact second we’d have to say goodbye to someone we loved, how would we spend that time with them?

A million more questions sprung from that one question about being able to see when our time would run out. I quickly realised that knowing your own number would complicate things too much. If you knew your own, and especially if it wasn’t a long time, it would do more harm than good. I didn’t want that for my characters.

But I also didn’t want to write characters who ignored the reality that they were dying. And it is a reality for all of us. Compared to many other global cultures, we in the West often try to avoid, ignore, or pretty up death with euphemisms. As Matilda asks, how many of us say
“If I die…”
instead of
when
? Too many, is the answer.

I wanted to encourage people to think seriously about their death and the death of all those they loved. It doesn’t make you morbid or depressing, it makes you
smart
. Death doesn’t have to be scary. It can even be something beautiful if it encourages you to live whilst you’re alive. And that’s what I’ve tried to show in this book. I wanted to put death within the context of life.

I hope I made you laugh in between your tears, that I made you want to travel, write that book, apologise to someone you hurt, tell someone you love them, hug your loved ones a bit closer, do things ‘just because,’ and most importantly, think about what your legacy will be and within your current means, start creating it.

I set out to write a book about grief and dying, and ended up writing one about life and living. That’s why, after much deliberation, I left you with Matilda and Tristan alive and happy in the epilogue. They wouldn’t let me write it any other way. Ultimately, we’re defined by our lives, not our deaths.

I want all my books to be ones where there is meaning on every single page. Not everything is going to speak to you. Not every event or character will resonate with you and your life experiences. But if just one word, one sentence, one chapter speaks to your soul, and makes you think or feel something, I’ve done my job.

I’m always happy to chat about life’s big questions, so if you’re a fellow thinker or dreamer who wants to ponder them with me, feel free to get in touch on any of the social networks listed on the pages that follow.

Until the next book and the next big question to be answered,

A.J.

- x -

A.J. Compton is a 23-year-old Londoner, professional dreamer, and full-time over-thinker. As a big believer in going after your dreams, she decided to practice what she preaches and finally finish one of the many incomplete manuscripts she’s started over the years.

A University of Cambridge graduate, A.J. is currently in a polygamous relationship with an embarrassing number of fictional book boyfriends.

Those two facts are not related. Honestly.

She loves people-watching and exploring her observations in her writing.

She really hates writing about herself in the third person.

As a 90s kid and product of her generation, A.J. can be found on all good social networks under a repetitive username:

Twitter:

www.twitter.com/AuthorAJCompton

Facebook:

www.facebook.com/AuthorAJCompton

Instagram:

www.instagram.com/AuthorAJCompton

Pinterest:

www.pinterest.com/AuthorAJCompton

Spotify:

open.spotify.com/user/authorajcompton

Goodreads:

www.goodreads.com/AuthorAJCompton

Website:

www.ajcompton.com

I’ve read thousands of acknowledgement pages over the years, so it is
beyond
surreal that I’m now writing my own. This is my first book, so bear with me if it starts to sound like an award show acceptance speech. Don’t start the music to cut me off. I’ll be briefer in the next books, I promise.

Like everything I do, and everything I am, none of it would have been possible without my mother. Thank you for being my biggest and loudest cheerleader, and for showing me what it means to be a strong woman. I had the very best example in you. Thank you. For all that you are and all that you’ve done. You and me against the world, in this lifetime and all the ones to follow.

To my grandfather, who claimed any success I ever had as being due to his genes. I know you didn’t believe in heaven, so I hope wherever you are, even if it’s just living in my memory as the voice in my head who reminds me I’m made of strong stuff, you’re proud and telling all of your friends your granddaughter wrote the best book that ever existed and couldn’t have done it without your DNA.

Robert, you once thanked me in a song and it meant the world, so I’m repaying the favour and thanking you in my book, though you may never read it. I’m so proud of us for going after our dreams, I hope we both get to live them.

Gill, for being one of the best friends a girl could ask for. Even though you didn’t know it, your belief in me helped me persevere with writing this book. Thank you for the encouragement and support you didn’t even know you were giving.

Mandy, Tasha, and Joe, for being more like siblings than cousins. I love and miss you all muchly.