I had a dream that Daddy and I were medical students and we were taking some sort of refresher course at the hospital when I started flat-lining.  Daddy didn’t move.  I was able to talk a little and I asked him to put some sort of pads on me to save me.  He didn’t seem like he wanted to me to die, but it was almost like he didn’t know what to do and he wasn’t panicking about it either. It was as though he had peace about me dying.

So, when I woke up it got me wondering: Have I touched enough lives in my lifetime so that I have left some sort of a mark in this world?  And does that even matter?  I have complete faith in God’s plan, but if it came down to me knowing I was going to heaven tomorrow, would I be okay with all I have done, and all I have left undone?

I know my family loves me, and if I died of course they would grieve, but once that time of grief ends, then what?  Would Monkey really know how much I loved her?  Would Caterpillar?   Would Daddy?  Surely Caterpillar is so little that he wouldn’t remember me no matter how hard he tried.  Would their lives be easier without me?  No one would like to admit that they would, but honestly if the tables were turned, from a non-emotional standpoint at this point in the game, life would be easier.  Again, that’s from a black and white, non-emotional perspective.  Obviously life doesn’t work that way, but for arguments sake that’s the way the question is posed.

I guess the whole point of my verbal vomit this morning, is this: How do you know when you’ve done, said and loved enough to never be forgotten?  And do you believe there is ever enough, or is it something that we should never be at peace with?