Working on the Obit

Started writing my obituary.

It is my second that I ever written. My first one some twenty years ago. Wrote for a Counseling class. It is admittedly harder now. My time on this world is shorter and facing the reality of my options is disconcerting.  Many things have changed since I finished this exercise last. Some are completed.  Some still on the back burner. Others have gone by the waste side. 

Still hold on to hold to some dreams. Not willing to share at this moment.  Just the idea of writing my obit has been on list for awhile now. As I get down to it, it scares me. It excites me. Worst of all, it worries me.  

Don’t want to finish my bucket list because it means my dreaming is over and I have nothing else to shoot for. I am troubled for not finishing because I have not completed the tasks at hand. Wasted. . .Squandered all this time.  I am troubled that I have so far to go with so little time left. My journey feels impossible and uphill. So many missed opportunities and paths I chosen not to follow. It troubles me because I am not the person who I imagined I might be.

Time is a wasting.

Got my profile quote from a friend I met years back. We no longer speak. We were close once. Zebra he once described himself. A former Corps man in the Navy. A collector of comics and high school wrestler. From last I remembered he is working in Dialysis. We used to play. Lifted, played ball, and hung out at Carrows. Jones taught me how to wield to knives if faced in that situation. I would go in more, but out of respect of the person I once knew, I will leave at. . .I miss his friendship.

We are facebook friends, I don't message him or post on his profile. Last time I left something, it was left unanswered. Much has passed. Stuff happened I am not proud of and we drifted. Friendship is a warm memory, that is all. When looking up his profile I found this quote he posted.

“Merciful Father, I have squandered my days with plans of many things. This was not among them. But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well. For all we ought to have thought, and have not thought; all we ought to have said, and have not said, all that we ought to have done, and not done; I pray thee God for forgiveness.”

I’ve kept it for my twitter and other accounts’ profile.

Just love the line “But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well.”

I did wrong. It’s been at my soul for the longest. Michelle said, “You need to Forgive yourself.” I just can’t. Not ready yet. 

Even when the one I feel I have wronged has said, “Someday. . .” this feeling stays. I know its not healthy and I should move, but I don’t feel worthy. I know in my head what happened and I understand, just. . .There is a disconnect. Not in the flow. Feels anchored to the beach as the waves crash around me. Don’t want to lose this angst, though. It drives me. It makes me want to do better. This emptiness inside gives me comfort. It is familiar.

I am thankful for the people that have been part of my lives. Making me who I am today. Helping me to get through these moments. Providing guidance and holding my hand when I felt alone and unworthy. 

In the end as line out my to-dos, checking off my bucket list accomplishments, as I write my obit I want to thank the people that accompanied me on my journey. Must admit writing my obit is not the Serendipity movie moment as it was before. Just days of planning many things are squandered. Thoughts, sayings, and action I regret doing and not doing. Still, I just pray to live well these next few minutes.