I hope they say I said "I love you" too much.
I hope I was too grateful for their love, time, and friendship.
If I’m living my life right, I hope they say I was too appreciative.
Too happy.
Too joyful.
I hope when they remember me, they laugh to themselves, a glint in their eyes, as they recall a million and one ways I made them smile.
I’d like them to remember hugs and kisses, or long deep conversations.
And I hope – truly, truly hope – I’ve made their life better in some small way. I hope I’ve helped to shape them into the person they wanted to become. I hope I’ve assisted in making their journey here a fruitful one…or, at least an entertaining one.
And, if for some reason they can’t say these things, then I hope at least they can say I tried.
That I TRIED to be a good friend. Wife. Daughter. Worker.
I tried to be successful, or kind, or compassionate.
Because the truth is, trying may be my biggest personality attribute. I can’t recall a day where I didn’t spend hours upon hours trying at one thing or another.
So I guess, when all is said and done, I’d like to know that all the trying wasn’t for nothing.
That, maybe because I tried…maybe I made a difference somehow.
Maybe the things I said and did…
Maybe the life I lead…mattered.
Yeah – when the only thing left of me are memories – I sure as hell hope they're good ones.
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