The goal of my life is simple.  When I am gone, I want to be missed.  I want to be remembered as I remember the special people that were in my life who have passed before me.  I want to be remembered for making others laugh, for being a good mother, daughter, sister and friend and for being a sharing, loving person.

Oh, I know I am not perfect or even close.  I know I have done things to hurt others in my life.  I am sure that I have even unintentionally hurt people.  For that and many other things, I am sorry.  Still, I think we each have a way of being that has an essential feeling attached to it.  

Empathy, compassion and goodwill are communicated and seen in a person’s personality.  A sense of humor and genuine love of people shows in what a person does and how they make others feel.  I try to be that kind of person, even though I know I often fall short of that goal.  But the intention a person has, matters.

I had a great-aunt who was not a happy woman and carried those negative feelings around with her.  She died a long time ago, and the only memories I have of her are negative.  I remember one day in particular.

I was at my grandmother’s house, and she came into the living room where I was sitting in a chair.  When she walked in we were alone in the room together.  She came over to me, smiling a rather wicked smile.  She leaned in close to my face, after stealing a glance to see if anyone was within earshot.  Then she cackled, “My, you are getting fat, aren’t you?”

I was eleven or  twelve years old, a prepubescent, highly insecure girl, stuck in a chair, away from all allies, with this awful, hateful woman.  And that memory is as clear as a bell after all this time.  More than half a century later, I can still remember that moment and how she made me feel.  As an adult, I can feel bad for her to have been that way.  But, I have never missed that woman.  To me, this is the saddest part of all.  I don’t know if anyone ever missed her.  I hope someone did.

I am fortunate to have many people in my life that I miss.  That means that I have been loved and I believe that I am still loved by those who have passed before me.  It’s my goal to be one of them someday.