When I Die

When I die I hope no one remembers or cares that I joined Threads on its first day.

When I die I hope no one reminisces about my use of the Oxford comma and stalwart belief that it should be used correctly and often.

When I die I hope no one finds it old lady odd that I have 34 bottles of nail polish I planned to actually use one day and never did.

When I die I hope no one looks at the dust bunnies, abounding under things and in the high places I just never see, and judges me too harshly.

When I die I hope someone goes through all of those photos in albums and file boxes and tells those faces goodbye on my behalf.

When I die I hope the fact that I can tie a cherry stem in my mouth into a knot without using my fingers isn’t the most remarkable thing about me.

When I die I hope my command of sarcasm and the liberal use I make of it in times of stress isn’t remembered at all.

When I die I hope someone wants the pencil sketch drawn of me when I was seventeen. I was at my most brave then and if it ends up in a thrift store I hope someone saves it and can feel that was true.

When I die I promise I gave away as many books as I could and I’m sure they’ll think there are still too many.

When I die I hope they cremate me as I’ve asked. I’ll be here in a small town in MI and it will be so out of the way no one will want to visit. That’s OK- why would they start that then?

When I die I’m sure I’ll have been meaning to clean out the freezer next week.

When I die I’ll still have your letters and cards in a box.

When I die I hope they know I’ve kept every password I’ve ever made and every email address, too.

When I die I hope I’m done thinking I’m not good enough.

When I die use the most stained version of all my recipes, because they are the best.

When I die know that I got used to rooting for the Lions but I’ll always want the Steelers to win because: Pittsburgh.

When I die I hope someone tells Bernie so he can post it on our high school ‘In Memory of’ group on Facebook.

When I die I hope someone tells the bees and places violets and lily of the valley in a vase somewhere come Spring.

When I die I suspect I will have finally. Finally stopped mourning what I lost and lived and loved what I had.

When I die I hope the children in the neighborhood know I loved them and they gave me joy.

When I die I hope I finished that crochet project I’ve started every January.

When I die someone should use my Wordle starting word for me; maybe you’ll be luckier than me and Train will appear on the first try.

When I die I hope someone will use those Bath and Body Works candles.

When I die please don’t eat lasagna. I know I used to make it but I only made it for you not because I liked it.

When I die I hope I’m not frightened.

When I die my guess is the Christmas cactus will still be going strong.

When I die I hope you know how much I’ve always, no matter what, always loved you.