In Memory...of me.

There are times when I lay thinking about life and…death. Usually past my bedtime.
My heart drops down to the pit of my stomach; I gasp for air.
My head spins although my eyes are closed. I open them, and I snap out of it.
I’m constantly thinking what can I do to ensure that my obituary is interesting?
Is that selfish of me?
I want to live a fulfilling life; explore, dream, pursue all of my passions. I want to be there for people – something that does not come easy because I am afraid of being a let down. Though, I want to help people genuinely when my heart tells me so, when I’m ready – not because I’m looking for some halo, not because it’s “the right thing to do”.
I want to be the grandmother, greatgrandmother even… that all the kids gravitate to. Grandma who creates memories through her lovin’ from the oven; photographs too.
I want to create traditions. I want to be spontaneous. Ride my life to the moon and back.
Life as I see it can be a hit or a miss.
My life’s gonna be a hit. That, I’m confident of.