|Contemplate your road
Earlier in the week my friend Michele asked my middle OS a question. She did this in front of me and it wasn’t the sort of question most well-behaved women pose…
Not only was the question unusual but so were Aaron’s and my reaction.
Ok, so this was her question –
“Aaron, did you write your obituary today?”
What would you think if your bestie asked your kid that question?
With nary a hint of awkwardness, Aaron smiled and said that yes, he had indeed written his obituary. It was almost as if she had asked my OS if he was going to play his guitar, nothing shocking entered his response.
And if it’s possible to be an outside observer of yourself, I was surprised by my own reaction to that question. I didn’t smack Michele upside the head nor did I burst into tears, something I can do with the greatest of ease. I just listened to their verbal exchange.
How strange it is that two of my three OS’s have written their obituaries. How peculiar that I am telling you. How not surprising that I am NOW crying as I continue to type this post.
During their junior years in high school, it has been a standard assignment at our sons’ school. In British Literature class, students pen their own obituary. Neither of my OS would have set out to do this independently but I’m glad they did. Trust me, you learn a lot about your kids with this type of homework.
So by now, you’re wondering, “Well, what did they write? What did you learn?”
|Nate’s senior pic 2008
Nate was 85 and he died on a Thursday after saving his grandson from oncoming traffic. (Ok, I find that part funny, I mean, how old is his grandson???) “Nathan lived an exciting life that was marked by service to his country and service to the Lord.” My OS achieved a measure of political stature in his lifetime and was well respected in his community. He was married and had a quiver of children.
Aaron was a nonogenerian, just three years shy of being 100. He enjoyed a long marriage and was blessed with six kids, 17 grandkids and ten great-grandkids. He had been a pastor for 41 years.
|I love that face. I love that boy.
Oh how I long for these to be their true stories. Long lives, fruitful, productive, reproductive men who loved their families and the Lord. My heart’s cry is for them to breathe their last completely satisfied with what they gave to others, praising God for every page in their book of life. And while the thought of them actually having an obituary is more than this mama can handle right now, I appreciate the exercise of them consciously thinking about how they are living.
In my next blog post, I am going to share with you my obituary. It is of a different sort and I’ve been waiting for the right time to put it out there. Since I strive to be honest and don’t want to string it along just in the hopes of getting a few more “hits” on my blog, I do not have a terminal disease.
Have you ever thought about your children’s legacy? How do you think you would react to this assignment? I’d love to hear!