One day I will write something. It will tell the story of me, of those I have loved, those who have hurt me and those who are still with me. It will tell the story of the women in my life: the mother who scarred me, the step-mother who loved me, and the redhead who believed in me. It will tell of the men: the father who did his best for me, the almost step-father who emotionally battered me, and, eventually, the man who fell in love with me.
It may not be something others read. It will take them years to read it; months to understand. It will be confusing, convoluted, and rocky - even the people closest to me may never read it, for fear they will never understand. But I will know what every word, every sentence, every grammatical aspect means. I will share bits and pieces with people, to help them to understand me, and this piece I write will tell such a story that everyone will want to read all of it.
I will title it LIFE, and I will distribute the most profound pieces to those in need of inspiration. I will try to make sure that my LIFE is passed on properly before I go, and if it is not I hope that my loved ones will pass it on once I am gone. LIFE will become a way of life, I predict, and I will watch from wherever it is I end up as people read and enjoy Life. Maybe I will even get lucky enough to experience the reincarnation that people speak of, and I will get to experience LIFE for myself. People will read LIFE far after I am gone, like Hemingway, Thoreau or Dickinson. My children’s grandchildren will read it, and they will know “this LIFE came from great-grandmother” and they will be honored. And maybe they will write LIFE as well.
One day I will write something. It will be beautiful, poetic, and it will tell the story of me and the people around me. I will call it LIFE.
