I went to the funeral of a 91 year old woman today. The church was pretty full of people. Some were there because they knew her children, but a lot of people were there because of her. She was a funny, kind woman, who lived a tough life, but made the most of it, and it showed.
It got me thinking…
I’ve been freaking out over money, or lack thereof, and thinking, if I just won the lottery, all my worries would be over and I’d be happy. The truth is, I AM happy. Maybe not all the time, but for the most part, I know that I am blessed. It seems to me that we look at happiness as some place we’re trying to get to, the end point of our destination. In reality, it’s the journey itself. This is a tough concept for me. I’m a goal oriented person. I set goals and try like hell to achieve them. The idea that the process IS the goal is a bit mind bending. And by a bit I mean, A WHOLE FUCKING LOT.
When the time comes and I pass on, I want people to remember the fun times we had together, laughing with (or at) me, how I cared for others, how I taught others, and how many lives I’ve become a part of over the years. No one is going to remember how soon I paid off the (many, many) college loans, or whether I drove a fancy car, or if I was skinny in my casket.
A long lived life is not guaranteed to anyone, in my family, we know that more than most. I’m shooting for a well enjoyed life filled with love and laughter.
Enjoy the ride.