So what is it that I alwaaaaays say repeatedly, ad nauseum, at least 1x/day?
Leave a Legacy.
Practically, how do you do that? BY WRITING STUFF AND LEAVING SURPRISE POST ITS ALL OVER THE PLACE! Duh.*
So I'm here today because I was drinking strawberry milk & reading the news and
I happened to find the ultimate wonderful thing in the world!
Elana Desserich was diagnosed with pediatric brain cancer. So here's this sweet baby, holding hands with death. And she's just 6 years old. I don't even know.
So, Elana wakes up each day to a wonder that isn't the amazing-ness associated with being 6. No finding out what butterflies do, or that ants are the human equivalent of a team of oxen.(Ants are not humans. I didn't realize that they weren't people until I came back and read the literary masterpiece that is my description of a pretend world where arthropods are people/beasts of burden. It's nice here in WeirdoNotVeryIntelligentTown. You should join us!) Nope. Elana learns what it's like to have your legs stop working, and to lose your ability to see. Elana takes her knowledge of the darkest aspects of human existence, and uses that to decide to spend her last days on Earth writing love letters to her parents to hide all over their home, so that they can hear her voice after she's gone.
To have that sort of forethought at such a tender age. Once again, I don't even know.
And you know, we have these tragic things handed to us. They're ugly. They're the worst sort of gifts, wrapped up in smelly ugly scary death paper instead of pretty bows and so forth. And we get so angry. Our natural inclination is to blame God, and search for an answer to our definition of unfair.
We're unwilling to stand back and see the purpose, which is a large piece of another thing I always say and that is that beauty comes from ashes ( an unoriginal sentiment that I stole from a very old book). In any case, this sweet baby girl took the ugly thing she was given, and used it to show others that their lives had significant meaning, with no regard for herself.
The loss of neurological function is complicated and mysterious and not easy to embrace for any human being. And so I marvel that a child who lost her ability to speak spent the following days of her life drawing pictures of what she thought love meant, labling said and then finding hiding places for these missives with a goal to be achieved long after her little heart stopped beating. To learn more about Elana Desserich, go here.
Don't tell me you can't do it. Go buy some Post Its. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!
DO WHAT I SAY!
*amongst other wonderful things.