If something happens to me

Since I've got all in the time in the world, check out this blog I found:  Lost Words In the Chamber. This blog is not making any sort of statement on capital punishment. It simply catalogs the last statements made by people on their way to be executed.  I KNOW it sounds ghastly, but if you're going to find sincere words, surely it's the last words of folks headed to their execution, right?  Think about it. How many people actually are of pretty clear mind and pretty good health are informed about the minute when they will die? Not many. In fact, other than suicide (and I'm not sure if that counts as clear thinking) most people don't have the opportunity to see it coming.  I can't imagine anyone asking me, "Any last words?" as the piano drops from the sky.  Nor can I imagine having the presence of mind to actually draft something at that point.  "Why yes, nurse, and I would like for you to gather an audience before I begin. Make sure to include the people who hate me most and the people who love me most."

I can honestly say that there's nothing else enviable about being executed. I read a bunch of their last words and they all had different ways of saying about what you'd imagine - they talked about love and gratitude and forgiveness and God. Some of them were pissed and I guess that sounds about right. It does make you wonder, though, if you knew the hour and moment and if you still had your health and mind, what would you impart to the people who came to watch? Assume now, that this audience includes those you've injured and those who love you. And probably a minister. I'm always instructing Kenny, "If something happens to me, make sure you tell Olivia/Christopher..." and it's not because I'm a fatalist. It's because we all have something you'd think you'd like to make sure people remember.

So I've started a rough draft.  Obviously, to Kenny I'd remind him how much I admire and adore him. I'd tell him how grateful I am for how he commits to his family and for his steady expression of love for me. I'd tell Christopher that our relationship is one of the shiniest treasures I have and that I am so proud of the man he's made himself into. I'd tell Olivia that she's the best I've ever seen and that being her mama was the biggest joy and most frightening undertaking of my life. I'd tell my parents and sister that my shortcomings are not their fault - the left handed scissors were never gonna work out. I'd tell them that I had hoped to be there to take care of them when they were old. I'd not mention anything about eating fruit or using sunscreen. I'd forget to mention all manner of helpful things, but I'd apologize to people that I didn't honor with attention and kindness. I'd tell my friends that they filled me up and that their swapping of secrets and laughs and pain were all an honor and a joy. I'd tell them that the times I didn't behave authentically were times when I just wanted to avoid being controversial because I wanted them to keep loving me. I'd tell them to remember that I wanted so much for people to think highly of me that I accepted a lot of take out boxes from servers even though I don't eat leftovers. I'd tell God that I looked for him and found him in both the ugly and the beautiful and that I really wanted my life to be a blessing. I'd extol compassion and gratitude as the most valuable of virtues and I'd beg forgiveness for the times I'd not remembered that.  If I started with a list of particular favorite memories, I'd probably never shut up.

Are you gonna do this too? The advantage is that, since we don't know the date of our demise, we can keep adding.  Probably when I go to sleep I'll think of a bunch of things I should have included, but that always happens and if I don't get it all said, I'll just have to let my life speak for itself.