My Obituary?

     When I worked as a reporter, the tough but important task of writing obituaries sometimes fell upon me. Tough because it was unpleasant to think about death, yet important because I was compiling a summary of a person’s life.
     We journalists sometimes joked about writing our own obits: “After grabbing a coffee, Trish Hermanson was crossing Main Street when a beer truck hit her, wasting the beer, the coffee, and her.” Bizarre humor, I know, but meant to lighten the responsibility of the work.
     I recently had the toughest writing assignment ever, composing the obituary for my six-year-old granddaughter who died suddenly from an unknown cause. But Lydia’s well-lived life made it easier. She had created a legacy for all of us to sit up and take notice.
     That got me thinking about what I’d be remembered for. Would it be because I was somebody’s daughter, somebody’s mother, somebody’s employee? What is my life work anyway? How do I want to be remembered?
     “Our words and deeds are how we are remembered,” says author Jeff Goins. “What we say and what we do matters. We may not control our circumstances, but we can control how we respond to the world around us.”
​     Thinking of it that way, I realize I’m writing my obituary every day.