Sandy Supposes....

I'm Not Dead Yet

Prompt 6, September 6th, 2023.

Be as truthful and honest as you can be. Write a Life Will. What do you want your loved ones to know about your last days when you are terminally ill or suffer from dementia? What do you want and what not?

         

         

         

         

         

         Huh, this is not a prompt I expected to see in a blog exercise. To be honest I've not contemplated a living will. I spent the afternoon with two nieces and their newborns. We nattered, sipped tea, traded child-rearing stories, shared laughs, and enjoyed baby cuddles. The thought of dying never crossed my mind. We were in the moment without worrying about the future.

         Of course I realize that illness and death are possibilities. One of these is an eventuality. Neither may be given an exact date. Nothing is guaranteed. Well, except the dying 'thing.' It is a fact of life as much as birth.

         I'm not prepared to wing an answer in this blog response. The matter requires more than a cursory 'think' dredged in a short period of time to meet a posting deadline.

         A Living Will is a serious document and nothing compares to it. I should not be flippant. I should not be cavalier. My survivors will endure my 'passing' and I do not envy them their grief, their coping, their attempts to make sense of my wishes, and all that a relative's death entails. I hope there will be some grieving. I don't want anyone to be incapacitated and suffer unduly, so I suppose I wish that they miss me at least a wee bit. I want for them to miss my presence and not take my interactions with them for granted. I want that my family remembers me with a smile. I hope that they keep a few photos of me even if it's to laugh and commiserate with each other confirming I 'did not take a good picture.' I've never been a 'poser.' Okay, I admit I'd rather mug for the camera than take the opportunity to 'smile pretty.'

         I am under no illusions that my various collections will be preserved and cherished. My three children have told me repeatedly that they do not plan to adopt my assorted snowpersons and keep them in the manner to which they are accustomed. I am not a hoarder, so there is not that mess to clean up. Oh, many photos from a lifetime should be given a once over and not tossed willy-nilly. I would like my journals, my idea books and my writings to be kept and read. I've shared some of my creations with the subjects that inspired them. It's not an exaggeration, or a stretch to attribute much of my writing to family lore/history.

         Sigh, my plants may not survive me by many years, or minutes. From what I've witnessed only my younger sister has a green thumb and a fondness for greenery, but, alas, her home is already housing enough plants for a greenhouse designation. I do not wish to take them with me either. Perhaps my stalwart plants could be at my funeral to say their goodbyes and then attendees could be offered a chance to take one home.

         Finally I want my family to know that I loved them and I never regretted any of our adventures. We had fun, eh?

         Oh, and one last , but vital request. As a fan of Monty Python I believe this to be of the utmost importance. Check that I am not breathing. Imagine the shock when I am forced to protest, "I'm not dead yet."