A Story of Two Obituaries

A white haired woman sits hunched over a desk holding two pieces of paper. Her breath is labored, her heart beats fast, too fast. Her time is near.

My Obituary #1, and My Obituary #2 are scribbled in black ink on the pages which lay flat on the desk before her.

Her hands shake as she picks up her pen and begins writing.

She writes the first obituary quickly and effortlessly, titling it, The Life I Wanted to Live.

The words gush out as if they had waited a lifetime to be exposed, for indeed they had. She imagined herself having lived a great life, a life full of depth, passion, imagination, generosity, fulfillment, and adventure. A life in which she had loved deeply, lived with courage, overcome obstacles, and changed thousands of lives for the better.

Hot tears escape and trickle down her wrinkled cheeks as she picks up the second piece of paper.

A SIGH, traveling a lifetime and back escapes her thin lips. It speaks weariness and deep regret.

On the page before her, she begins by writing, The Life I Did Live. Immediately the writing of this story proves painful and annoying. The ink chokes in the pen. It doesn’t want to leave and record the truth. The letters loose their liveliness as black oozes the contents of the life she never wanted to live onto the blank paper.

Flat, Ordinary, Safe, Forgettable

She puts her pen down and stares wide eyed at the pages before her. Shock and horror grow deep lines between her eyes, and she steadies her shaking body with a hand on the desk, for the contrast between the pages is glaring.

The life she had lived wasn’t anywhere near the life she had wanted and intended to live. NOT EVEN CLOSE!

Her head falls into cupped, crinkled hands and she weeps. She weeps for time to change the path walked, the life lived. Time to choose courage, adventure and passion. Time to LIVE a great life!

But there is no more time for her. The last grain has fallen in her hourglass.

The two papers, swept away by her frail hand in disgust, dance and sway to the floor as her last breath escapes. “Please let my story help someone else,” the words encircle her white hair, nod to a life finished, and explode, invisible.

 

………….   Space to Think   ……………….

 

If you would write your two obituaries, how would they compare?

You are here for a reason. You matter. How you live your life matters.

 

{If you feel like you need help thinking through what you want in life, stay tuned. This site will be going through some changes soon, and there’ll be some new tools for life direction help!}