How Will I Be Remembered?

The older I get, the more precious I recognize time is.

I wonder, how will I be remembered?

Will I be remembered as a hothead, quick to anger and quick to pounce?

Will I be remembered as close-minded and stubborn?

Will I be remembered as selfish and self-centered?

Will I be remembered as a woman who could put any man to shame in a cussing battle?

I wonder because I've been all of those things.

My life has been littered with ugly periods.

Periods of self-pity and self-doubt.

Periods of lashing out instead of looking in.

But as I approach 60 years old, I appreciate life so much more, and I am better equipped to understand that I have choices.

I know now that I've always had choices.

I can choose to be miserable, or I can choose to be happy.

I can choose to be a b*tch, or I can choose to be a blessing.

I can choose to see the good in others, or I can nitpick and magnify every perceived fault.

I can choose to see life as a glass half full, or I can choose to see it half empty.

Quoting Oprah, here's what I know for sure.

I know that if I dropped dead today (heaven forbid), I have lived a magnificent life.

Not just because of this marvelous adventure I've been on for the past five years that has taken me around the world, but because of the people I've met along the way, and the family I was blessed to be born in, and the one I was even more bless to have.

I thank God for the little country town of China, Texas where I first learned to live alone in peace.

I thank God for my mother for the wisdom and understanding she imparted, and the wherewithal to finally "get" all of the things she was trying to teach us.

I thank God for my brothers who wrapped me in love and protection, especially Forrest, who has been more of a father to me than our father ever was.

I thank God for the segregated environment where I learned my worth when I was knee-high to a duck so that we when did integrate, it was rooted in my being.

I thank God for the experience of attending an HBCU, where there were thousands of black folks with one goal in mind, to be better so that we could do better.

I thank God for my ex-husband (believe me when I say I never thought I'd be writing these words) for the good times and bad because it was through these experiences that I was forced to grow up.

I thank God for my boys who are now men with families of their own, men that I'm so very proud of.

I thank God for my grandchildren.  What a blessing they are!

I thank God for this time of living and working in a foreign land and how it has opened my eyes and broadened my perspective in unimaginable and extraordinary ways.

So, here's how I hope to be remembered.

I hope that I'll be remembered as someone who loved to learn.

As someone who learned from her mistakes.

As someone who learned to be brave enough to speak her mind, not in anger and retribution, but in love and understanding (I'm still working on this one).

As someone who had faith in God and the goodness of humanity.

As someone who strived to be a blessing, and never a burden.

As someone who appreciated life and the many lessons it teaches us.

I hope that I'll be remembered as the flawed human being I am, always striving to be better.