How I Want to Be Remembered

I am not afraid to send my child to school for fear of school shootings.  I’m not afraid to get on an airplane for fear of it crashing.  I am not afraid to take teens to a rock concert for fear that I will have a heart attack.

I’m not afraid of anything that may result in death.

I am not afraid of dying or death.  Period.

Would I miss my children if, God forbid, someone decided that today was the day they would take their anger and agression out on their school?

Of course I would.  But I am of the mentality that “when it’s our time to go, it’s our time to go” and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I know many things about God but the biggest is that His name is not Heather.

Knowing this, I know that today could be my day.  Today could be the day that He calls me home.  Are there things that I’ve not yet accomplished in this world that I would like to?

Absolutely.  The red/blue combo in Guitar Hero is on that list among other things, like remarrying, having another child, and seeing NKOTB in concert… heh.

And honestly, who wouldn’t rather be in Heaven than here?  Bodies that are free of sickness?  Mansions?  Jesus?

Yeah, it’s a no brainer.

But what I fear more than death is how people will remember me.  Perhaps it’s conceited to wonder if people will miss me when I’m gone.  It’s a thought that I’ve had and, if I’m truly being honest, I struggle with confidence and wondering if I am a functioning member of society or just a waste of space.

(I don’t really think I’m a waste of space.  I know that I serve a purpose here on earth and that I will be here until I have served that purpose, at which time, I’ll be called home.)

Wow.  I could’ve eliminated the first few paragraphs of this post, because the last two sentances summarized what I was trying to say.

Anywho, back to my fear.

I fear that my children will not understand why I made certain decisions or that I’ll be judged for them.

I had a child when I had just turned 20, before I was married.  To a man, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have married…. for no other reason than I wasn’t ready to be married… but then again, I wasn’t ready to have a baby either, and that happened.

I struggled alot and grew up fast after Matthew came along.  There were times that I had to get creative to make ends meet or to get them something that they wanted and I vowed that I would make it all happen no matter what I had to do.

I was having way too much fun on Twitter last night and clicking links that I would see and ended up on the blog of Rodney Olsen in which he was talking about the Sad Life and Death of Dolores Aguilar.

Rodney posted an obituary of Dolores that has been circulating the internet and went so far as to research it on Snopes to insure it’s validity.  (Do you all know about Snopes?  Because all those forwards about missing children and people in parking lots?  Yeah, totally busted on snopes.)

Here’s what Delores’ obituary says:

Dolores Aguilar
1929 – Aug. 7, 2008
Dolores Aguilar, born in 1929 in New Mexico, left us on August 7, 2008. She will be met in the afterlife by her husband, Raymond, her son, Paul Jr., and daughter, Ruby.

She is survived by her daughters Marietta, Mitzi, Stella, Beatrice, Virginia and Ramona, and son Billy; grandchildren, Donnelle, Joe, Mitzie, Maria, Mario, Marty, Tynette, Tania, Leta, Alexandria, Tommy, Billy, Mathew, Raymond, Kenny, Javier, Lisa, Ashlie and Michael; great-grandchildren, Brendan, Joseph, Karissa, Jacob, Delaney, Shawn, Cienna, Bailey, Christian, Andre Jr., Andrea, Keith, Saeed, Nujaymah, Salma, Merissa, Emily, Jayci, Isabella, Samantha and Emily. I apologize if I missed anyone.

Dolores had no hobbies, made no contribution to society and rarely shared a kind word or deed in her life. I speak for the majority of her family when I say her presence will not be missed by many, very few tears will be shed and there will be no lamenting over her passing.

Her family will remember Dolores and amongst ourselves we will remember her in our own way, which were mostly sad and troubling times throughout the years. We may have some fond memories of her and perhaps we will think of those times too. But I truly believe at the end of the day ALL of us will really only miss what we never had, a good and kind mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I hope she is finally at peace with herself. As for the rest of us left behind, I hope this is the beginning of a time of healing and learning to be a family again.

There will be no service, no prayers and no closure for the family she spent a lifetime tearing apart. We cannot come together in the end to see to it that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren can say their goodbyes. So I say here for all of us, GOOD BYE, MOM.

Don’t you want to cry?  I’m sure at times we’ve all harbored resentment toward our parent, but is any of it that bad that you would want to post this in the paper for all the world to see?

I don’t know.  As many struggles as I’ve had with my parents, I would never say anything like this about them, nor would I publically talk about it.

Then again, my parents don’t fit any of the traits that Delores exhibited either.

But it made me stop to think.

How are my children going to remember me when I’m gone?  Am I going to remembered as Delores was, or are they going to one day see everything that I have in my heart for them and see that I did the best I could with what I had and that no matter what, the struggles with homework, the discipline, the groundings, were simply so that I could teach them to be functioning members of society?

No, I’m not afraid of death.  But I am afraid that I’m not living my life the way that I should be, living a life that’s going to leave a legacy to others, living the way God wants me to live.

And so, I embark today on our annual church camping trip.  Time to get away from the hustle and bustle of the thriving metropolis of Roanoke and computers and cell phones and everything else in this world that provides a distraction.

It’s time to make sure that my kids know that short of God, they are the most important things in my life.  And I say that not because I want a nice obit in the paper one day, but because I truly mean it.

Until next time…