WERE YOU AT MY FUNERAL?

I cannot explain the issues that I have with a freshly picked bunch of roses delivered to my door or the apologetic mumble after a runaway comment has left someones lips. I also cannot seem to merge mentally with having to remind someone to say thank you or the explanations I have to give regarding my personal preferences. 

I have one life . . . as ME, that is . . . and who knows after that! But heaven, aliens and the abyss aside, that one life is precious!

Because I have cast it into the 'Precious' - not useful and not valuable - but 'Precious' basket, it requires some tender loving care. 

And so I had a think the other day about my funeral. I am able minded and consciously fluid enough to go most places with my thoughts and so my own funeral was not daunting nor was it sad. 

It was horrendous . . .

I saw streams of tearful mourners bringing roses and flowers that once lived. I saw sad faces that seemed bewildered and frightened at that idea of mortality. I could hear some of their thoughts wondering who was next and I guessed that it was uncle Albert, for he had lived a decadent life. I saw the many glances aimed at uncle Albert.

He was oblivious.

I witnessed people arrive whom I had never seen before and some that I had seen once. I witnessed family and friends and those I did not care much about. I am sure some were relieved to see me go for I could have been a thorn in the side for them - a tragedy, as I had not 'made it in some way or another!'

Isn't that a strange phenomena?

If I have not got a PhD, then I have not made it.

If I have not achieved the millionaire status, then I have not made it.

If I have not been the perfect mother, then I have not made it.

If I have not worshipped a deity enough, then I have not made it.

If I have not ticked all the right boxes, then I have not made it . . .

And on and on.

Well, I made it to my funeral . . . in futuristic thought.

It was about at this place, where I came to a decision.

Everyone had a choice and that choice was simple. You either made it to my funeral or you made it into my life. I regarded the funeral like the credits at the end of the movie that no one stops to read. 

Those in my life were like the actors and actresses, who brought their willingness to attend the movie, take part in it, learn the lines and allowed me to be the support act or play the leading lady.

The choice was simple . . . you were either a movie star or a rolling credit,

and those move so fast off the screen that they are an after thought.

Don't come to my funeral, where you can take credit for MY life.
Don't say goodbye when it is too late, say 'hello' many times rather.

And for the concerned - I am not rolling out the credits for a long time!

Change means: play a part in someone's life and make a lasting impact!