Sunday, August 1, 2010

For Her. And Him. And Her.


Three deaths. In two weeks. All under the age of fifty. All people I know.

I'm taking stock today of my life and the lives of those around me. Now I could make snarky comments about burning both ends of candles and lifestyles of bacon grease and Budweiser, but now is not the time. Now is the time to assess my own life and the mistakes I make. And to make decisions regarding how I wish to live and not live my life.

I am not going to get into final wishes and living wills on this blog. I won't discuss hows, wheres or what colors of funeral choices. I don't want to talk about my death. I want to talk about my life.

I believe that I have laughed more than I have cried and for that I am truly grateful. Tears have been shed, some joyous, some sorrowful. But each tear I have shed has come from a certain knowledge or memory that cannot be discounted.

I have held family and friends in my heart. They have brought me comfort and taught me gratitude that may not have come my way otherwise.

I have seen beauty and innocence and amazing sights with my eyes and felt these things go straight to my heart.

I have touched the softest baby's cheek and the weathered bark of trees from another century. I've been burned by fire and frozen by snow and reveled in the changes around me.

I've heard whispered words of love and angry words meant to hurt. I've learned to look beyond the words to find the meaning and the intent, and to deflect that which is not useful.

What does this all mean? It means that my life is good. Better than I realized. Too good to be taken for granted. It's time for this chickie to straighten up and fly right. Because there's still meaning and purpose that I haven't yet discovered. There's still more of me to find. And I need to be here for that to happen.

2 comments:

andygirl said...

*hugs*

Dawn said...

Thank you, sugar. I'm fine really, just a tad introspective and reassessing my direction. I'm sure that when I finish taking stock, I'll be back to my old, snarky self again. And a hug right back 'atcha.

Post a Comment