When I’m Gone.

While running downtown on a gorgeous Spring day, you expect to die a number of ways.  Cars being the number one guess, but there are other ways.  Crazed, hardcore runners, all but pushing you off the sidewalk into the aforementioned cars.  The pollen so thick, you come home choking and covered in yellow dust.  The heart attack that I’m always certain is going to kill me while participating in this sport that I’m sure it was used in medieval times.  But no one expects to be murdered by a monster lawn mower.  Yes, I was almost run over by that massive thing pictured.  It was a classic, Oh you’re going to stop, I’ll go, no I’m stopping, you go, dance.  After eventually getting across the street, stopping and getting the adrenaline back to an acceptable level, it got me thinking, when I’m gone, how will people remember me.  I have no idea how they will remember me, but I hope a few of these memories will cross their minds.

She loved flowers, a lot.  She was kind.  She never thought she was beautiful and always worried what people thought of her, which made her try harder to be a better person.  She was in love with love.  She could bake like a mad person.  She was unconventional while clinging to tradition.  She was funny.  She had the biggest eyes that she passed onto her beautiful daughter.  She had fabulous hair that she passed onto her handsome son.  She was a good listener.  She, eventually, became a good wife after a couple tries.  She loved her husband so much it hurt.  She was a good and loyal friend.  She loved to read, even when she should have been doing other things.  She was a good leader.  She loved to sing, even though she couldn’t.  She loved the smell of fresh cut grass.  She loved the sound of a baby laughing.  She loved the windows open, even when it covered the house and car in pollen.  She loved the sound of birds singing.  She loved blue skies and warm breezes.  She loved the smell of freshly baked bread.  She enjoyed the quiet of the country.  She learned to love the ocean.  She fiercely loved her son and daughter.  She loved animals, except horses, snakes, and mice.  She loved her Great Danes Grace and Lucy.  Valentines day was her favorite holiday.  February was her favorite month.  She loved to sleep.  She loved coffee.  Finally, and ironically, she loved cemeteries.

I challenge you all not to think of this post as morbid or sad but challenge you to make the same list for yourself. Often, we can list the things we hate about ourselves in less than a minute, but we forget to list the good. Once I started writing my list, I completely forgot about the things I didn’t like about myself.  I think you will be surprised that your good list will outweigh your bad list, and that is a good thing.