Thoughts on things to come...
There have been things recently that have made me think again on my own mortality. More specifically, my funeral or some such. Have you ever sat and wondered what would be said about you by whomever is there? Or even, who would show up? Simply based on your life up to this point, assume that things will continue down a fairly level path....what would your children, friends, relatives say? How would they act? Would anyone be joyful, remorseful, hateful? How would the Eulogy (or whatever) go?
I think about it more and more often as the years pass. I know one thing, I'm not afraid of it. I'm too adventurous to be afraid of it, but I am afraid that no one will want to show up and drink a beer in my memory. I often wonder what stories my child will tell about her mama when she's 20, 30, etc.... Will I be that pain in the ass woman that talked and drank too much and drove too fast and never grew up, or will I be that woman who didn't bat an eyelash when she told me her worst fears or first loves, or that I worked as hard as I played and tried hard to maintain a healthy balance between the two. Will I be the woman who ruined her life at 10 by driving her father away because he couldn't live with distrust any longer? Or will she welcome the fact that I picked my head up, dusted off my jeans and kept working to make her as happy and stable as possible....
Will my friends remember a party girl who was too tomboyish for her own good? Or someone who gave whatever she had till there was nothing left over... I wonder if I'll be remembered. Period. Am I such a person that inspires good/decent stories or a few good laughs, or am I just...there? I'd like to think that I've made enough of an impact on the world so far that I would be remembered well and celebrated. I'm not the kind of person who wants flowers and an oak casket with the proper music. No, I would want a pyre made of pine and cedar to burn while people danced and played music and drank themselves silly. Or at the very least in the age of "proper", a good cremation with a hell of a party afterward, potentially in my favourite bar.
I'm not in a morbid mood, nor am I melancholy...I just wonder how do people see me. I have a good idea on how my closest friends (you know who you are) see me, but the rest of the world sort of escapes me. They always say, if you want to know how the world thought of a particular someone, read their obituary. I don't just mean the survived by's or the succeeded's, I mean that couple paragraphs about your life and your going's on. Did you put in 30 faithful years at the paper mill, or did you leave a crew of followers for your cause, or maybe you just faded away into the mist.
I know how I'd like for it to go, I know how I hope that the people around me see me and how they'd choose to remember me. But, alas, we can't write our own, and we can't script how our life or death will come out. We can however, make our way and do the best with what we got. I believe that's all the universe ever asks of us anyways.....Right?
I think about it more and more often as the years pass. I know one thing, I'm not afraid of it. I'm too adventurous to be afraid of it, but I am afraid that no one will want to show up and drink a beer in my memory. I often wonder what stories my child will tell about her mama when she's 20, 30, etc.... Will I be that pain in the ass woman that talked and drank too much and drove too fast and never grew up, or will I be that woman who didn't bat an eyelash when she told me her worst fears or first loves, or that I worked as hard as I played and tried hard to maintain a healthy balance between the two. Will I be the woman who ruined her life at 10 by driving her father away because he couldn't live with distrust any longer? Or will she welcome the fact that I picked my head up, dusted off my jeans and kept working to make her as happy and stable as possible....
Will my friends remember a party girl who was too tomboyish for her own good? Or someone who gave whatever she had till there was nothing left over... I wonder if I'll be remembered. Period. Am I such a person that inspires good/decent stories or a few good laughs, or am I just...there? I'd like to think that I've made enough of an impact on the world so far that I would be remembered well and celebrated. I'm not the kind of person who wants flowers and an oak casket with the proper music. No, I would want a pyre made of pine and cedar to burn while people danced and played music and drank themselves silly. Or at the very least in the age of "proper", a good cremation with a hell of a party afterward, potentially in my favourite bar.
I'm not in a morbid mood, nor am I melancholy...I just wonder how do people see me. I have a good idea on how my closest friends (you know who you are) see me, but the rest of the world sort of escapes me. They always say, if you want to know how the world thought of a particular someone, read their obituary. I don't just mean the survived by's or the succeeded's, I mean that couple paragraphs about your life and your going's on. Did you put in 30 faithful years at the paper mill, or did you leave a crew of followers for your cause, or maybe you just faded away into the mist.
I know how I'd like for it to go, I know how I hope that the people around me see me and how they'd choose to remember me. But, alas, we can't write our own, and we can't script how our life or death will come out. We can however, make our way and do the best with what we got. I believe that's all the universe ever asks of us anyways.....Right?
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