An essay and a free prose poem

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.

© 16 January 2015, by D. Denise Dianaty
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