Melancholy Monday

This might be a slightly morbid post, but I'm just going to put it out there. Blame it on the nonstop rain we've had all day yesterday and today.

After yesterday's Sunday school lesson on "A Courageous Farewell" and reading obituaries in the Messenger this evening, I'm reflecting on my life and what people would say about me. I've noticed that the obituaries of people without children are generally shorter, implying that those people leave fewer memories behind. Since I don't have children and am part of a Mennonite culture that values family and seems to revolve around children, I sometimes feel invisible. For the record, I want to say that I have not really struggled to accept being childless. It might be different if we knew there was a chance of having our own children, but with the chromosome disorder Cliff was born with, we know it's impossible. At this time, we both have no interest in fostering or adopting, which seems to bring another set of struggles and hardship for many people. Because we don't have a family, we enjoy more freedom and privileges. Obviously God didn't design everyone to be parents. Sometimes I feel it's abnormal that I'm not anguished about not having babies, since that usually seems to be the case for most women. Feeling like I don't fit in has actually been a bigger struggle for me than not being a mom. But I have no desire to acquire a child in any way possible just so I can fit in.

Thinking about my own death is not scary. It's more scary and unthinkable to imagine it happening to my loved ones. So what would my obituary say? She loved flowers and the outdoors. She loved her family and especially enjoyed being an aunt. I hope people could say I was kind and tried to be a good teacher. I'm trying to be more positive and not so hard on myself, so I won't mention all the areas that I fail in.

I've been encouraged to think of my job as a service to others and that is my endeavor. I do enjoy my job and slowly miss teaching less and less. Being a teacher definitely made me feel more useful and needed, but also was a tremendous responsibility.

To live like this quote is my goal.