I Am Currently Dead (I Believe This Is A Work Of Fiction)

I am currently dead.

As you are now reading this, it can only mean I have met my demise.

I have passed far too soon for those who found my presence comforting and not nearly soon enough for the few (I can only hope) who felt my presence was a burden on them.

I have lived an existence marked by an extraordinary moment or two surrounded often by much ado about little. I have, in rare bursts, exhibited great strength but far more often been unable to carry my own weight.

I have loved. I have hated (but in moderation). I have been uncompromising and compromising (no, that doesn't sound right at all).

I have left a small footprint on this planet, but maybe that was not environmentally sound.

I have been loud (that was just my natural speaking voice) and quiet, maybe at times when that was not such a good thing.

I have been smart but, oh boy, have I been dumb. I have been right on occasion, but something less than that as a general rule.

I have grown from child to adult to old person without ever really growing up. But maybe that was ok.

I have had a family and a job. One brought immense unbridled joy, the other mainly filled space.

I have seen beginnings and endings, starts and stops, highs and lows and everything that managed to fall between the cracks.

I have felt the warm sun upon my face and the cold wind rattle my bones.

I have often judged others unfairly while too rarely having been critical of my own deficiencies.

I am grateful for the time allotted me upon the stage and it would make me happy if I left behind more smiles than tears.

I am, I mean I was, imperfect.

I am me. And maybe, in some respects, you as well.