Aren't we Lucky

This past week the New York Times put out a call for submissions from anyone who wanted to send in a voice memo and honor a loved one who moved on due to the COVID pandemic. A few nights ago I found myself with phone in hand, finger poised to press "record", and a few bulleted notes in front of me to keep track of my thoughts.  A voice memo with a few poignant memories seemed an impossibly incomplete offering.  Yet there I was.

I have every voicemail saved on my phone, though I haven't been able to listen in over a year now.  Thinking of her always brings a smile to my face and offers extra warmth inside a tiny part of my heart.  I miss her deeply, and also still call on her all the time.  

It got me thinking about legacy and what we leave.  It got me thinking about how we define ourselves while we are here, and how others will define us afterwards.  I think that it's worth it to consider how to live in such a way that how you define yourself is also how others might when you aren't physically here anymore.  Alignment.  Intention.  Transparency.  Awareness.  All things that are coming to me as I'm considering how I remember her and think about how I talk about her.  I wonder if she would talk about herself this way if she were still here.  

Of the many memories, the piece of her I hold now is this phrase she would say all the time, though I don't think she knew she said it.

"Aren't we lucky", she would say.  

She'd say it as we would sit down to a meal, or take our seats in a theater, or have chocolate (her favorite), or sit at the local pool and feel the sun.  That was her way of leading with gratitude.  It's that moment of recognition and the feeling in that one beat of a pause for reflection that is what I take away now.  The feeling of "thank you" that she always made sure to include.

I bet she'd be surprised that that's what I chose.  I'm not sure she connected those dots fully in life in a way she could articulate - though what do I know of her full inner dialogue.

I'm feeling inspired by this NYT prompt and what it stirs up in me, though.  In memorializing her, I can't help but think about my own life.  What would others say?  What would I want them to say?  Am I living in alignment with that intention now?  If not, why not - and what should I do about that?

All really valuable questions to ask yourself, I think.

If there is a mis-alignment, then let's do something about it while we can.  And as long as we're here, we can.  

In the meantime, I've got both an inner and outer smile today as I think of her.  I think of how she shaped and added to my life and I think, "aren't we lucky".