The Last Paragraph

I was challenged by a friend recently, to write the last paragraph of, essentially, my life.

No, it's not like that.  I'm not terminal (although truly we all are) or anything like that, but rather, it's to help fill in the middle.  

I've been thinking about this task a lot for the last day or so.  I don't want it to be an epitaph (obvs) but really, what will my last paragraph be?  

What will anyone's be?

Pretty deep stuff for a Sunday morning, no?

I've documented large chunks of my life and the lives of my family here, so if you've spent any amount of time reading through these pages, well, you kind of get where I'm coming from.  I've never actively sought sympathy from this or any of the things I do related to the losses I've experienced.  Don't get me wrong, I appreciate a kind word or a warm touch on the arm and a genuine word of encouragement as much as the next guy.  But it's not something I seek.  Just like speaking, I find this both cathartic and crippling.  To open up a vein and bleed on the page or the stage is not an easy thing to do and it often drains me emotionally.  The message is, of course, important and that's a huge reason why I do what I do.  Frequent snark, here more so than when I speak, helps to blast through the emotion.  Kind of a dark humor approach, I think.  It's a defense mechanism I learned from my job many years ago and it serves me well from time to time.  It's not always appropriate but it works for me.

And personally, when someone says "If you reach one person, it's worth it" I say "Bullshit".  If I only reach one person, I've wasted everyone's time, mine included.  My intent is to get inside the head (and heart) of everyone I speak (or write) to, unless of course I'm being a smart ass at the time.  Which happens.  

I feel like this assignment is causing me, more than ever, to consider what my legacy might be.  I'm not sure if you've ever thought about your own.  In what way do you want the world to remember you?  The easy answers are "good person,father, husband, sibling, grandfather, etc." but is that really enough?  I mean, think about it.  I don't want a mountain or highway or anything really named after me, but I want to accomplish something so that, at least someone, will say "Oh yeah, he was the guy that did..."  Of course right now I have no clue what that ellipse represents.  

And, when I think of the things that were important to me fifteen years ago versus the things that are important to me now, well they've changed.  Some values are still the same of course, family and so on, but fifteen years ago, while I was involved in things with my union, it didn't take up the same portion of my time as it does now.  Politics are another example of something that takes up far more of my life than it did then.  And that's just two examples off the top of my head.  So, it seems to me that my last paragraph today may well be completely different than one I may have ten years from now.  But whatever it is it won't allow me to ever wear black ankle socks and black shoes with khaki shorts.  Holy crap.  Sorry for the break in the action but a guy just walked in to the coffee shop wearing that and... just... well, let me say, yikes.  

That doesn't lessen the pressure on me to craft a worthwhile last paragraph now either.  And I was kind of hoping it would.  Like a lot.  

I have faults.  The number and quality varies depending on who you ask.  I'd like to think the  (Grateful Dead plagiarism alert) long strange trip it's been has made me a better person, I really would.  But whether that's factual or not, I won't know.  Because really, I don't think I can know that.  It seems to me that since I won't know how the final chapter of my life ends, all I can do is try and take the lessons that life has handed me and make something from them.  I won't know the end result, since that won't take place until I'm on to the next plane of existence.  Trying to prevent what happened to us from happening to another family is something I've used, as have the kids, as a goal for my life.  And, just like my question of if I'm a better person now than I was, I won't know this answer.  So, as I evolve toward my ultimate conclusion, I'm going to ask this question.  Will I know?  Is there some quantifiable number of lives we've changed?  Will there be a Capra-esque scene at the end of (or after) my life where I'll find out?  

I hope so.  Because I think, as much as anything, that will be my legacy.

And I think I just wrote my final paragraph.

Peace.