Somewhere, in our educational
journeys, we have been asked to write our own obituary. You can always think of
what you would like to be said about you until you actually have to sit down
and really think about it. I still have
mine from my days at Columbia College; it took me a week to write it. I was the
first one that thought I was going to have fun with it and be goofy about it.
Then we were given the guidelines that we would have to adhere to as we wrote
what would be the last words written about us. I got serious with a quickness,
with a side of snarky of course. I thought if you really know me, there won’t
ever be last words about me. I know, I know, slightly presumptuous. At the “ripe
old” age of 19, I was being asked what I would want people to remember me for.
That became a sobering thought and something that was really hard to put into
words.
I wasn’t a mom yet, so loving mother
was out. I couldn’t stand my parents, so loving daughter was out. I thought my
best friend was an idiot (some things don’t change I guess), so thoughtful
friend was out and I thought my brother was the dumbest piece of *oops* walking
the planet. I guess that just completely
wiped out compassionate, dang. So thus began my journey to find some humanizing
quality I could write about. I think that’s why it took me a week. I told my
instructor I didn’t want to write the “typical black obituary”, not sure if
that was the right thing to say. My instructor was famed WFLD TV journalist the
late great Les Brownlee. Oh yea, he was black. I thought the guy was going to
fall out of his chair. After calmly, but firmly ripping me a new butthole, he
told me I had the potential to be one of the greatest black writers to come out
of Columbia. Note, I didn’t say Chicago, neither did he. His next statement was
that I should promptly explain what on this green earth I meant by that
statement. I had two days to conjure up some explanation that may or may not be
acceptable.
It didn’t take long for me to figure
out what to say and have some proof to show my instructor. I had an obituary
from a relative and one from a friend who was white. I pointed out that in an
obituary for a black person it always says “so and so” accepted Christ at an
early age, survived by a relative from whatever city. In the obituary of a
white person it never says if or when they accepted Christ, no one cares. No
one cares where the relatives are located, it’s not like people are going over
to find them. I explained I wanted to be somewhere in the middle, not so
mainstream on either side. My instructor bought what I was selling and I was
off the hook for a minute. I almost humanized myself and wrote a pretty good
obituary.
Well over twenty years later, I am a
mom, I have written both my brothers’ and my moms’ obituaries and yes they were
both written in that “typical” fashion. Some of my views are still the same, I
still can’t stand my parents and my brother didn’t smarten up much before we
lost him. The world of journalism lost Les Brownlee a few years ago, but the
lessons he taught are still with me. When faced with constraints you’d be
surprised what you can produce and that definitely made me step up my writing
game. Somewhere in my writing there has to be truth, I don’t live in the world
of make believe, besides, I have no imagination. Without having much of an
imagination, I think I could still be quite creative. I would change the whole “write
your own obituary” to Four Word Epitaph. The writer can come up with four words
to describe themselves; the catch is they have to have an explanation. So here,
I present to you my four word epitaph with explanations.
Mom: In June 1993, this skinny
little kid with smelly feet was born. That little bundle of parental dependency
has become a young college man of parental dependency with smelly feet. Having
such a lovely bundle pushed through the nether parts of her has allowed Carla
to earn the “mom” moniker. Being a mom allowed Carla to humble herself and open
her heart…well at least to her son.
Brash: Carla definitely and some say
defiantly raced through life heedless of the consequences. For some strange
reason, Carla felt she was oblivious to rules and managed to find ways around
everything. In the Carla wording, she could tear down a person without thinking
twice, at the same time a Carla word could make a person feel like a thousand
bucks. If Carla didn’t like what you said or did, she wouldn’t come right out
and say it, but you would sure read about it later.
Honest: It is said, if you don’t
want to know the truth don’t talk to Carla. She was known to tell you about
yourself whether you wanted to hear it or not. She lived her life teaching her
son that being honest will get you places, always tell the truth. Carla was
unapologetic about her willingness to hold a grudge. If you crossed her anytime
in her life, you best believe she’s turning over in her grave thinking about it
and waiting at the pearly gates to make sure your book of deeds has the truth
and is spelled correctly.
Leader: Carla led the way with
anything she did. She led the way when she worked as a carpenter and a single
mom. She led the way in education by earning her MBA and showing her son that
anything can be accomplished. Carla was an early adopter with pretty much
everything in technology and watched and complained when others started
following her. I can guarantee you right now Carla is leading the way to the pearly
gates because the rest of the people are trying to catch up to her before those
books of deeds are opened.
That about sums up my epitaph; of
course lying in a box, we won’t be able to control what someone may or may not
say, but if we could…..talk about the liberty we could take with other people.
Ok, that wasn’t nice, but it sure would be fun. Of course this is all tongue
and cheek, but to a certain extent it really describes me…for now. Think about
your four words, would your friends agree with them? Heck would you even care
if they agreed? Oh no, here comes the brash part of me…I could care less what people
would think. Unless your persona is of glass, no one will see what’s really
inside. Put out your four words~ Just my two cents
No comments:
Post a Comment