Legacy

Remember that night at the end of December. Remember that it was on that night that I took a look back at who I was, feeling the pain of the past and looking forward to a future where freedom could be experienced. Remember what freedom looked like back then; it looked like anarchy. No rules. No consequences. Life could never be that simple.

As the last five months have played out, that night in December has found new meaning. For some, telling them about that night has changed their view of me. For others, that night is one of many that they know I’ve struggled through. They know that if God miraculously took away my pain I wouldn’t learn about grace, love, and redemption. They know that night is about truth and coming to grips with who I am. On that night I was unprepared for Africa. Now I find myself somehow prepared for anything.

You make a harsh mistake if you believe I deserve no sympathy because of that night, or because of any one night. Granted, you are the only one who can grant me sympathy, and if you don’t let me know how you feel it will never affect me. You still haven’t told me what sympathy I deserve, after all these weeks. What do you believe I have to show for these last five months of life? What will be my legacy of 2009?

I think I told them everything tonight. I talked so much my mouth became dry. They deserved to know as much as you deserve to know. They listened, and that is all I ask you to do. Listen, don’t talk; don’t interrupt. Wait for me to finish. You will get your turn. I can’t tell you all at once either. One or two at a time, please. I sometimes wonder why I even attempt such daring feats.

When all is said and done, perhaps today or tomorrow, you may never get the chance to decide my fate. You may never tell me what you think of me or how my life has impacted you. And should you do this? Or do we let our impending deaths separate us forever and let words go unsaid? But wait, I am already dead, and you may be too. It depends.

What is your religion?