When it is my time...

When it is my time to leave, I hope my heart is tattered to bits, barely held together by maybe one stitch. Let it be deflated and worn. Knowing it gave every ounce of compassion that filled it to the brim. Loved without hesitation with no expectations. Its legacy will be left in the sparkle of the eyes of those who knew it. In the smile of children. The strength in the spines of the ones I paved the path for, and some I met along the way.

On the day that this soul goes back home, I hope my hands are calloused, rough with blisters. Let the cracks and crevices be testament that some things are worth working them to the bone for. The proof of this can be found in all they helped build. The countless times they gentled straightened another woman’s crown. Late nights when they rocked babies to sleep or softly dried the tears of a teen. On the skin of the lover. The foundation of the future.

The moment this vessel takes its last breath, I hope that what’s left is exhausted from living, truly living. Let the tired make it all the way into the marrow. Every muscle lacking elasticity from extending everything it had to those in moments of need. Both feet riddled with scars, rugged and righteous. The residue of my commitment will be discovered in every soul that was before me, walked with me, and came after I’ve gone. It will be witnessed in the oxygenated tissues of all who ever make great changes during times of grit and of glory. Tucked into the determination of the generations I had the honor of changing.

When I go – find my legacy in the love left behind.