Am I the only one who thinks about death? Am I odd to wonder what people will say at my funeral, or who will even come to pay their respects? Is it strange to consider the impact my life has on those I love? Am I bizarre to think I am just a blip in people's lives?
I'm not morbid, not normally. But today I am reflective and pondering on 'the good life'. What makes a good life? Is it fame and fortune, material possessions? Is it how many friends you have on facebook, or how many people you text every day? I think not.
I sometimes feel that I am inconsequential, mediocre; that I haven't accomplished much in my life. I haven't written the novel that's been in my mind for 30 years. I haven't invented any great gadget to enrich people's lives. What have I done? My husband once said 'who decides what a good life is?' He said that perhaps being a good and loving wife, or a kind and loyal daughter, or a goofy aunt who loves her nieces and nephews, a trustworthy and dependable employee... he said that perhaps all that is what makes a good life. And I would like to believe him, but it seems too easy. It seems I am missing something.
Or maybe I'm not missing anything at all, and the life I have is the best life ~ a very good life indeed?