It's strange how we're all planning our weddings when we're just going to end up dead, anyway. Our photos lost, our satin, white gowns yellowed by time, the event of our lives as ghostly as our figures on the walls of our childhood homes at night...
I always wonder what it would be like if I died. And being a person who is sick, it's not a hard thing to ponder. Would everyone from town pack Riley's Funeral Home and tell stories of me from years past? Would it be like every other Carrollton funeral? Or would Jennifer Duke insist my casket lie atop a Bellevue-Dayton fire engine, draped in a flag, as my brethren, in their Class-As and Dress Blues walk aside me to my final resting place, as a bell rang to declare I was home? Would Mark Seeger be the first face to greet me in Heaven? Would my dedication to service and the American Victim be what people remembered most? Would Jim say that no one else cared more about their patients than me? Would Ronnie cry with Tara, remembering me bouncing around the office?
People would say I hadn't lived, yet, but it's not true. I have loved, been loved, and found innocence in a baby's eyes, which I cared for, half way across the world. I cared for my Mamaw. I've written pieces which have made not only those who read them cry, but made me cry myself. I have felt passion. I have seen hate. I have been witness to disease and death, but also to pure joy and happiness which seemed surreal. I am a twenty-two year old young woman with a legacy. I am not afraid, as I've had just enough time to see God is real and life is not useless.
My father would struggle the most because he struggles the least with me, now. And I can see him cry. I remember the two times I've seen him cry, all for death, and it was for my Grandmother, Audrey, and his brother, Mark Seeger, as he clutched Seeger's helmet to his chest at his burial. But aside from that, Father would cry for me, because I am his daughter, and because he wanted to see me become the woman I always said I would be: the woman who could save the world.
My mother should know I am at rest, should I pass. So should Eric and Bryan. There will be an answer: let it be.
I am with the innocent ones; my babies, all of the time. No one may be trying to find me and heal my wounds, but I will always seek your pure heart and your aching body, in an effort to give each and every child peace. For those of you I will not be able to save, rest in comfort that though I am with you, I love you. I'm with you.
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Eric made me see that love was possible, again. He showed me I would be ok if I loved him, because he wouldn't hurt me. Our wedding is going to be funny, because humor comes natural to our relationship, but also one which moves you to tears; you won't ever have seen such a solid, brilliant couple whose love shines as bright as the ours. And saying that doesn't make me feel foolish- it makes me feel solid.
And in case you're wondering, I don't plan on dying anytime soon.
Being sick isn't an excuse to lie down and give up on the time we've been given.
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