Do you take pause, dear readers, do you take pause and consider your influence? Each person has a sphere of influence whether they realize it exists, or understand the implications of the impact. The words you use. The body language you employ. The company you keep. These all express you. People are reading. People are interpreting.
Influence.
This is one area of my life in which I spend a lot of time reflecting. I realize that this life is passing away. Soon Angela will be just a memory. Soon her high pitched voice will be silent, her blue eyes will stare unseeing, her "pen" will be still, and for-the-love she will finally stop eating all the carbohydrates she can find. I so desperately wish that I could attend my own funeral. Ya know? Listen in and roll my eyes at the stories. Aside from the pickle story being told verbatim, I cannot begin to fathom which memories will be vibrant and which have paled.
If you follow my life, if we're close friends, or barely acquaintances, you likely know that I am not afraid to let it all hang out. I am stubborn. I am opinionated. I think more of myself than I should sometimes. Sometimes the opposite. I'm pessimistic - the chocolate bar is always half gone. I love Diet Coke and sweet tea and coffee and hate water. (My future plans do not include visiting the desert.) I have had many, many life experiences which means I have a treasure trove of stories. (Perhaps rather than a novel I should write about my life... But, again, that is what a blog is for!) I have done some ridiculous things. I almost died in the desert. For realz. Which is why I refuse to return.
I don't know what others would share about me. But it would be so neat to hear. When I reflect on who I am, when I close my eyes in this world, and open them in the next, this is what I hope you will see...
Food. We gotta mention food. Food is the universal bonding agent. I hope you know how much joy I received in having you for a meal in my home. I hope you will invite others in the same manner. It's so important.
Caring. I hope you felt cared about by me. I hope you felt empathy for your woes, and your joys.
Joy. I hope I made you laugh. Laughing is so fun. It's so necessary.
Passion. I hope my passion is evident. For so many things. Talking is one. Oh. My. Word.
God. I hope that somewhere in my life you will have seen even a small glimpse of who he is. That you will know he exists. That his love for you is relentless. That you are beloved.
These are areas that I hope will be my legacy, and by so declaring, I pursue these. I won't be around to hear if I have been successful, but one thing I know, someone will laugh at least once at the pickle story. As told by Fred, Robert, Chris, or Joyce.
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