It has been a while since I’ve been here, but I promise, I have been writing. I study, I read and I write when I can. Most importantly, I’m creating new things.
I never wanted kids. Let’s get that out of the way. Never in my life did I picture myself as a Mom, bouncing a child on my knee and thinking, “this is my legacy”. Sure, when I was 12 or 13 years old, I tried to pick out boy and girl names, but it was for some phantom child, some abstract thing that I figured would happen sooner or later. Did I actively want them? Nope.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about death. For obvious reasons, I have a realistic view of what’s going to come sooner or later. Sure, I’m in my third round of chemo and I’m strong, relatively young and in the hands of competent doctors, but I suspect that sooner or later (hopefully later), this thing is going to get me. I look around my house at my stuff and secretly will my possessions to people. Jewellery divided amongst my nieces, books a free for all to my friends, my wardrobe, also to friends who won’t be freaked out at the thought of donning the clothes of a deceased mate. The rest of my stuff can go to charity. Ok, that was easy. When I think of what I have to leave behind, I get a bit depressed. Yes, I have loads of stuff, but that’s all it is. Stuff.
Before this starts to sound like a pity party, let’s back up. We are all more than just our kids or our possessions. We have a lifetime of experiences we have shared and things that we have put out into the world. We impact other people’s lives and that’s not too shabby. However, if you want to leave something more, I believe that there’s a lot worse to bequeath than your creativity. Writers, write. Artists paint or draw or sculpt, etc. What about those other things we make and put out there? Sure, I could leave my wardrobe to my pals, but what about things I have made myself? They’re unique, custom and made with love. That’s why I have not only been writing, which is something that can be read and shared by many, but also I’ve been learning how to create the every day things that are clearly marked as mine. Example, I’m leaning how to knit and crochet. Never mind that I have fuck all hand-eye coordination. I will crack this. I’m making a quilt for my mother. Yes, it’s lopsided and not very well stitched, but I made it with love and my own two hands. I’m writing stories for people and creating this with my new-found handy crafts to let people know I care. So, when I finally shuffle off, people will have a little piece of me, a marker of how I was feeling about them at a specific point in our history. Not a bad way to say goodbye, huh? This may sound morbid, but it really isn’t. I’m just using this wake up call to make sure I remember what’s important.
Don’t worry, we’re hopefully a long way away from that, but while I have strength in this wobbly frame, I’m going to keep learning and creating. I want to leave a little bit of me behind. It’s only human, right?