On Death...

The world lost some pretty special people this week. It's heartbreaking.

Of course anytime someone close to me dies I start to fret about my own death and my fear of dying alone.  Lonely and a funeral for one (maybe two, if EVILBOY doesn't hate me for posting embarrassing baby pictures and talking about his sleepwalking antics on my blog).  I worry about not having any friends at my funeral.  Not having a purpose for anyone to think twice about me.  A plain old box, an unmarked grave.


I worry about leaving the world without leaving some sort of mark that people will remember me for.

I realized something very important the other day.  A relief to my mental healing.  Having a swanky funeral with a solid gold casket, a live feed on CNN and stinky (over-priced) flowers is not what it's about at all.

Having a place in someone's heart is the best tribute anyone could ever ask for.

I have been thinking about R. a lot lately (comes with this time of year...).  I remember R. for being extremely passionate about everything he did, he was a very proud father, so caring, the "bad boy" with a huge heart and a great fisherman.

Most of all I remember that I loved him more than I could ever have imagined.  I still love him today - five and a half years later he still holds a place in my heart.

and that is all I want in life.


PS - Here are some things I don't want to be remembered for:

• That time at the Royal Winter Fair where I slipped on a fresh pile of cow plop in front of my whole grade eight class. 
• The girl that ate lunch alone everyday in the stairwell in grade eleven because she hated the world.
• The girl who went to the emergency room one week after giving birth only to end up with an enema from an 80 year old woman.