Percolating....percolating..... The thoughts are bouncing though my head trying form into a cohesive blog.... I know that it sounds weird, but like some of the composers of 'ole, I tend to formulate my blog paragraph by paragraph, sentence by sentence. If the sentence doesn't form into a clear, resonably concise thought that sounds correctly, it's never laid out on the page, or typed on the screen.
So I am having trouble getting the coffee of this blog poured out onto the page. So it's percolating....
First, I feel as though I must appologize for being MIA for the last couple/three weeks. I started getting busy with odds and ends. Then I ended up with three cute furry balls of joy. None of which were over five weeks of age, and, as it stands right now, two will never see the sixth week. A moment for the ones called to Allah already....
That kind of leads to the topic I want to talk about -- Our Legacy. For most people, their legacy is in the children that they bring and/or raise to become (hopefully) upstanding citizens and people. Then there are those that adopt some truly wonderful children that they happen to find and raise. I cannot have children, and, if I am not mistaken, adoption is not allowed in Islam. So I have felt for many years, completely out of touch with any kind of legacy.
This has been an issue for me. Obviously a back burner one, but one all the same. Last night, I read my best friend's blog. Never quite knowing what to expect from his blog, I was very surprised to see that he wrote a long piece about our old hang out.
It was not your average trip down memory lane. It became a right off of reality, back through time to a time and place that wasn't perfect, but was really good with people that I wish I could just call up and hang out with again. It then took a sharp left back to reality when I realized that this -- these accumulated bytes on some random, hidden server that formed words on any screen that requests that page and can been seen around the world -- were part of my legacy.
I had touched someone's life in a very deep life changing way. I was just being me at the time. I wanted all of my friends to get along so we could all hang out together. I now know better then to force that, but then, in my really early twenties (OM. THAT long ago.) it was me trying to make my own perfect part of the world. I wanted us to live on the Yellow Submarine. I've since learned that not everyone has that song running through their head randomly.
My point is this, I will have to say that my chances of having and/or raising any child are slim to nil. So I have been wondering what if anything will be my mark on this world. Then, while reading Bryan's blog it hit me that I already have my mark. Not so much a physical or tangible thing, but quite little things that mark another's heart and life.
I have such people in my life. Bryan being one of the biggest -- just because he taught me not only how to be a friend, but more importantly that having a good continuous friend is more important than having another name on the list of people that were apart of my life. And having a good friend is more important than bad relationships. And a really good friend stands by you when your parents die. They also know when to just say how they feel, will stand on the sidelines and watch the play fail and then will provide the shoulder for you to cry on. (I know, too many American Football references there, but it worked....)
Bryan, I raise my glass of Dr. Pepper to you. May Allah always bless you and yours.
I have other such people in my life. I'll be working my way through the short list.
Have a lovely day.
