I committed to the challenge of writing or creating something for the next 30 days on the Ralph Waldo Emerson Self-Reliance #Trsut30 project initiated be The Domino Project. I will probably do some of it offline, as I will have trouble getting online for 15 of the 30 days.
The first prompt is by Gwen Bell: You discover that you have 15 minutes left to live, and in these 15 minutes, you write the story that has to be written.
Here is my entry:

Dear Jon ,

It seems I only have 15 minutes left to live (you’ll find out why and how when you find my body) and since I can’t reach you on your phone to say how much I love you and thank you for our time together, here are some useful things to know or things I wish you to continue for me:

First, my computer access code is XXXXXXXXX. In it you will find all kinds of helpful documents that you might need.

You will also find all my digital photos. You know where all the non-digital ones are. Hopefully one day you will find someone to distill a “body of work” from them, a task that has really eluded me all those years.

You will also find some of my writing: the poems, the essays, the stories. But only the ones that I have taken the trouble to type into the computer. The others are scattered in my notebooks. Oh I know… a big job to distill those too, especially when you’ve always said that poetry was not your thing…

What else do I wish I had time to do? Let me see…

You know I love you, the kids know I love them, my parents know I love them, my friends know I love them… Growing up in a war torn country has long ago made me aware of the fragility of certainty and has taught me the importance of striving to be at peace within myself at all times. But I have neglected a few things, like playing more often. I’ve waited too long to dare shine, have waited too long to consider myself a ‘real’ artist, have waited too long … or you know what… maybe I haven’t… Now is as good a time as any to drop perfectionism, isn’t it? Just tell our daughters to be aware not to lose their real selves for too long before they own being themselves again. Seems to be some kind of twisted game in life.

The world will continue fine without me. I know that I have left some kind of (good) mark on many of the people I have been in contact with. What more can I ask for?

Tell the kids I will always be there when they need me, just in another wa

(The 15 minutes are up and of course I die).

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