When I'm Gone…

We all know how short is Life. Some of us know ours will be shorter still. I have often felt that my life will not be long like those who came before me. My Gran lived to 90 and her mother lived to 89. A great, great grandmother (I think on my Gran's father's side) lived to 104. Frankly, I'm surprised to still be here at 51. I didn't try very hard to get here, that's certain. I never felt I had a reason to get here before I met my husband and we had our son. Now, I have so much to live for. But, I don't fret that I still feel I have little time left to me. I'm thankful every morning for another day… another day of seeing my son grow and become the wonderful person I can already see in him. 

I make now,
to all who know me, 
a request 
to remember me 
not with great, snot-gobbery tears, 
blobbing down emptily 
to dry and be forgotten. 

Celebrate me 
when I've passed. 
All I ask 
is that when I'm gone, 
in my name, 
please spend just one day… 
One day a year…
It's not too much to ask…

Spend a day
And think of my heart
Honor me
in some simple way
to make your corner of this world
A better place for others,
by service to those in need. 

Volunteer in a shelter. Lend your strength to a worthy cause, like Habitat for Humanity. Or spend a day helping feed the hungry and/or homeless. Spend a day volunteering in a nursing home. Do something like that in my name and that will be, to me, the best way I could ever be remembered.