I look through from time to time to see what is happening in the world. Through, not down. We’re not up in the clouds, playing tennis with Shakespeare on fluffy drifts or anything like that. Through the veils, they are what blocks the two places. If you knew how easy it would be to reach across….but I’m not allowed to talk of that. Anyway, when I look through, I can see what goes on after my passing. I was silently saddened. That is not to say that I wasn’t missed, indeed I know I still am. Routing around people’s hearts and minds is something I quite enjoy doing, and I see the golden leaves of sincerity in their memories and loss for me. This of course are those who knew and loved me, not randoms in the street. It’s funny how simple it all is after, recognising what love really is. The best way to describe it is the golden leaf on a grey and green tree of someone’s life. The golden ones, or the one’s with stronger colours, are the more sincere and honest of emotions.
It’s surprising how ragged and bare some trees are.
But I was saddened that the legacy I left was that of what it was. Of course, being swallowed by the waves of depression, angst and disillusionment didn’t help. Not so easy to go and carve a legacy when you can barely get up out of bed. But that is the ironic twist to it all, if I had done that, I probably would still be there. Life, who really has the answers to it all? …. Well, actually I do. One of the annoying little jokes you get let in on once you pass over. I’m trying to start a petition here for God to let people know BEFORE they die, so that they can do something about it while they can. But I’m sure he’ll laugh and shake his head in great amusement like he usually does. The hugs afterwards are always the best though. I say he, but God is really a she if anything, did you really doubt that? I guess I’m just used to the pronoun. Ingrained in me.
I think if I could do it all over again, knowing what I know now, I would try and leave a better legacy of myself behind. Be of service, help more people out. Shake away from my inverted egotism. I read once about how, in ancient Egypt, important your name is once you have died. The longer you are known, the more chances are that you have a role in the afterlife. I know some people think one life is enough, who want’s more right? But it is true in a way, if you are spoken about and talked about, it’s likely because you are missed or did the most good. And in a way, you live on.
Except for Hitler, that logic doesn’t apply to him.
Previous entries detailing a wonderful life