My obituary

I’m taking a creative writing class. About time, you say? I guess so. My first assignment was to write an obituary about myself. Oh fun! In the "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People", Dr. Covey writes that the first habit is to start with the end in mind, and you are supposed to imagine yourself at your memorial service. What do people have to say about you, how do you want to be remembered, basically. This has been a strong influence in my life. Now my home is a mess, but people will, or should!, remember me as a loving, happy and empathetic person. Well, that’s the plan, anyway.

This assignment is not the same. We have to be inventive, but truthful...somewhat. Anyway, here's mine.

Michele Lemieux died this morning, her face on the keyboard of her laptop computer. Actually, her husband’s laptop computer which he had never had a chance to use. She was found by her mother-in-law at 10AM. Mother-in-law never got up before 9 and started calling around 9:15. While she waited, wondering if her daughter-in-law was hiding from her again, she thought about the dogs in the house and how they would start eating her flesh if her daughter-in-law really was sick or dead. Mother-in-law always had a very vivid imagination.

She drove to the house and let herself in with the key that Michele regretted ever giving her. The dogs did not have blood or human flesh in their mouths. Breathing a sigh of relief, or was it defeat, she walked all over the house calling out. When she came to the dining room, she found Ms. Lemieux bent over the keyboard. She called 911 but knew it was already too late.

Ms. Lemieux died from complications with toomuchstufftodowithnotimetodoit. According to the mother-in-law, she died doing what she always did. Work, look for work, write, translate and blog. She cooked a lot for the family too, but that was not mentioned. The remains will be sent back to Canada where she will be buried with her family. She always wanted to go back home.

Throughout her life, Ms. Lemieux was a writer at her high school newspaper, shoe salesperson, bank employee, wife, mother, seamstress, software salesperson, entrepreneur, software instructor, wife again, American this time, production manager, grandmother, translator, photographer, pottery maker, gardener, cook and back to her first love, writing. Putting a resume together was always a bitch…

She died still not knowing what she wanted to do with her life.

Her epitath: Nobody understood me. Might have been a language thing.

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