“Epitaphs used be to three words: “Mother. Sister. Wife” as an example. If you were writing your own Epitaph, what three words would you want to be your legacy and why?”
This was the question posed to me and my fellow bloggers in my Rising Bloggers group, by Amy over at The Reinvention of Amy. As fascinated as I was by her question, I have to admit that I had absolutely no clue how to answer it. I really haven’t ever given it much thought. Well, and people tend to remember their loved ones differently based on their own personal relationship and experiences. I know that each of my siblings and I had very different relationships with our father so, while the general story is the same, the details are different to each one of us. Therefore, our recollections evoke different emotional responses. I’m sure that my children will have the same reaction when I’m no longer living, however, I pray that they won’t have to deal with that for a very long time.
Just three words….but life it so complicated.
At different times we are required to be different things to different people. For instance, we begin this life as babies needing care from our parents, but often by the end of our lives, it is the parent who’s in need of care from their children. As a wife we are a friend, a lover, confidant, cheerleader, defender and advocate for our husbands. As mothers we are doctors, nurses, nurturer, cooks, teachers, psychologists, hairdressers, etc. To top it off, a friend of mine recently noted that we are now responsible to provide our children with “cultural enrichment”. Yep, pile it on! Prayerfully we have strong bonds with our siblings; we are valued and trustworthy employees; and we are loyal friends and neighbors.
No, three words are not enough to do my legacy justice. My legacy? Yes, my legacy.
Three words would never be able to adequately convey how strongly I feel about parental responsibility. Or, how I tear up each and every time I see my girls perform in their dance recitals (for different reasons). No three words could explain how I love to watch my husband sleep, particularly when he’s had a rough week. I think my heart actually swells. There are no three words that can completely describe how I felt each time I sat at one of our older children’s high school or college graduations. Or how I don’t care that my mother doesn’t know who I am any more, I’m just happy to see her. Three words won’t tell you how important my friendships are to me and that margaritas always taste better when I have them with my BFF. Or how much I miss her. Would you know how important I think it is to give of what God as given to you? Your talent, time and money. Would you know how I feel about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? Yes, Him. I love Him with all of my heart.
There’s more, a lot more. Far more than three words could convey.
Then there was the great Rainbow Loom Catastrophe of November 19, 2013. One of the looms broke and my daughter was devastated. If you don’t know what Rainbow Loom is, it has something to do with colored rubber bands, a loom and a hook. If you Google it you will find out more than you have ever wanted to know. I was sure that I could fix it, but I couldn’t. Thing 1 was insistent that we go out right at that moment to buy another but, it was late and the store was closed. However, Thing 2 was far more understanding, probably because it wasn’t her loom. She hugged me and said, “That’s okay, Momma. You tried to fix it. You always try really hard.”
There it was…three words.
I’m not perfect and I don’t always get it right. In fact, sometimes I fall flat on my face, but I do try. I try to be a “good” wife and mother and sister and friend and neighbor and whatever else I need to be. My intentions are always good and, usually, my heart is in the right place. I’m honest and I try to play fair and I believe in second chances. So, I guess if there’s anything that I want people to remember about me, it’s that I gave it my all.
She really tried.
If you would like to read the other posts on this link-up, click here.