If I had three days to live, I would call my father. Tell him that I know that I could have made more of an effort to make him a part of my life - that though I believed for so long that he didn't want me as a part of his life, I know now that inertia plays a larger role in our lives than anyone would care to admit.
I would talk with my mother. Tell her how proud I am of how she raised me. The few years on welfare when I was little and sending me to daycare would have cost more than a job would pay... that it was nothing to be ashamed of... that the sacrifice of the stigma of food stamps and government checks is still appreciated to this day. I would tell her how thankful I am her helping to send me to college, for her always being there for when I needed her. I tell her its ok to cry.
I would spend every moment I could with Jen. Apologize for my not being there in the future. Tell her that I truly love her
and then I would write.
I would write the half brother I never met. I would tell him about myself. I would write the three step sisters I haven't seen in years. I would tell them how I discounted family and that I should have done more
and then I would continue writing. Poems mostly. I would make sure I left something of me
I'll post the answer column later today. I'm too busy and life is too hectic for me to do it justice right now. I can tell this journal has been suffering this past week, but oh well, what can I do? Worry that people won't keep reading? I write this thing for me and only hope that others enjoy.
I got stuck in the elevator for 20 seconds today. It seemed to stop between floors. I wasn't frightened, I was actually excited because I knew I'd have something funny to write about.