It should come as no surprise to you that I love to read.
Love, love, love it. I read all the time - even when I shouldn't.
I heard a reflection this week that referred to a person's life as a book. What would the title of your book be?
Mine? Probably something like - The Thinking Person's Guide to Insanity. Or maybe Insanity: It Runs in the Family. Or - You too can have Bad Genes. (I'm sensing a theme...)
Or, maybe, just my name with the dates bookended.
What would the story be?
There'd be entire chapters that I'd feel completely comfortable skipping - and chapters that would be so short they'd be superfluous.There might be a few chapters that I'd be proud of, a few that would make my parents squirm and one or two that I'd probably be put on the censorship list for including.
I'm hopeful that the book would have many, many, many pages and chapters. :)
I imagine that, when you die, you take your book with you, wherever it is that you go. Your book is added to the shelf in your final resting place - whose book will yours touch? Will you be proud of your book, the book of "you", of who you are and what you did in your life?
Dude. I'm really morbid tonight, aren't I? I should have some really, really good news the beginning of next week. Betcha can't wait for something upbeat!