If you don't like long, honest posts, skip this one.

I think that the network of relationships is even stronger than we realize, Mudcat ones included. I think that in my case, it would happen like this.

Someone in my family would know to check my e-mail, and both Hardiman and our daughter would know how-- passwords, such. They'd be clearing up my affairs, you see, including looking at my computer. They'd know, too, that there had been a large number of people I had corresponded with, closely, because I share these things with them. So they would feel they would need to open my mails and send back replies letting people know I was gone and probably offering a word or two of comfort or acknowledgment of how much I had loved and delighted in that person.

Once that process began, there are at least two or three Catters who would be among those to get a reply like that, and I am sure they would come to Mudcat and post about it. They'd be likely to do this, though, AFTER getting the word out to others they had known I was close to. They'd be thinking how I would do it, see-- they'd find whatever they had learned about me and from me, kicking in, to guide them. Of course the Christians among them would be well versed in how a Christian handles a time like this, as well.

Once the Inbox and PM page had been looked at and replies sent by my family (and I bet it would be our daughter who'd do a lot of it, after Hardi had made a start by writing a basic message for her to customize), it would probably occur to them to send a general notice to my whole address book. It's organized well so that would be easy to do.

As far as last words I would offer, to leave behind for people... that's all set. You see, a long time ago I learned that we are made to LOVE even more than we need to BE loved. And then a poem I came across during one of my own times of most intense change gave me words to put that lesson into action. I think it was called Speak Your Love, and I have been thinking lately that I hope it is buried in one of those boxes recovered from the fire, because there are a couple of people now I wish I could give it to. It was a tender and loving exhortation to us all to do just that, with any and everyone we know and love-- not just boy/girl love.

So I have spoken my love, very often, in rich detail and bold color.

I was reflecting with Hardiman just the other night that I never need to worry if people "get" whatever I try to give, share, teach, etc. I'm too intense for it ever to get lost forever.... whatever someone did not "hear" on any given day, I know that their experience of knowing me will last a long, long time. Whatever they needed to know from me, they will know, in their own time.

I'm so lucky-- I have had the experience, often, of having people look me up ten or more years after contact has been lost, to tell me that a thing that had stood unresolved between us had finally made sense and they had seen what I had tried so hard to show them. And they thanked me for never giving in, no matter how hard they'd tried to make me agree they were right and I was wrong. For the matter usually had to do with how wonderful they were, and how wonderful life is. Once they had added a few more experiences to what I had seen "before their time," they spontaneously realized what we'd been arguing over amounted to that.

As a Chrsitian, also, it would be my privilege to be in heaven praying for the people I had loved. And God would be continuing to look after them too, sending them little messages and experiences and blessings long after I'd gone... because He does, anyway, plus I have asked Him to.

I have serious enough health problems to think once in awhile, "What if I died right now? What's been left hanging? What did I not get to do, experience, give, or get?" I can't remember a time in the last ten years when I did not respond, "It's fine, it's enough, I'm ready, today would be fine, right now would be fine, let's GO already." Oh, I'm sure there would be lots of loose ends. I have loved imperfectly, as intensely as I have loved accurately. But anyone I have loved even a little would find, to their surprise probably, that they could speak for me at my funeral, and get most of whatever I would say exactly right.

(Hee hee hee... it could be you.)

~Susan