the sharp knife of a short life

You know that song by The Band Perry, “If I Die Young”? I don’t know why but whenever I sing it to myself or along with the radio (before it was overplayed) I always say “When I Die Young”.  Like I’ve said before, I think I’ll die pretty early.

So while I sat on my room floor earlier, I was thinking that what “worldly treasures” I’d leave behind. I don’t have any. I do have books. And 2 lamps. And an angel figurine.

My Sarah Dessen books would definitely go to Nina, especially those she doesn’t own yet. If she doesn’t want double copies, the rest can go to Fiona, because I know she likes them too.

My Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books will go to Rae, because even though she has all the books, I think she’d like to have mine to remember me by.

My classics would go to my mom, because those are the books she loves.

Aaron can have all his Terry Pratchett books that he bought for me back. I like to think that he’d read them and remember how much we used to quote the characters in daily life. He can also have the really cool lamp I got for my birthday this year. He doesn’t have a nice one.

My medical books would be for my father, for him to remember the daughter that could have been.

My little angel figurine would go to my uncle because he gave it to me. And because he likes figurines too. I think he’d like to keep it to remember his slightly demented niece.

My piano isn’t technically mine but I’d give it to Melanie because I’d like her to hear how a real one sounds instead of the electone she has. But if that’s not possible, I’d like her to have all my piano book.. well, those she wants any way, especially the music scores of the musicals we were in together.

I’d like my diaries to be burnt or buried with me because no one needs to know what the hell happens in my mind. Those diaries should never be shared.

I hope you, dear reader, would get to attend my funeral. I’d like you to get to say goodbye. In fact, I’d like to be able to know when I’d die so I get one last chance to go to church, to tell God I’m sorry, to apologise to and hug everyone I love.

I don’t know how many people would turn up to my funeral. Maybe my current course mates would, maybe not; I’m not a popular person. I like to that my A-level classmates would at least be represented because I loved them the best. Surely, my closest friends must turn up. I’d be disappointed if they didn’t. My family is a given.

No, it’s not strange to think about something like this. Not if you feel it coming. I’ve had way too many close encounters that I’m pretty sure my gut instinct is right.

Lord make me a rainbow,

I’ll shine down on my mother

She’ll know I’m safe with you when she stands under my colours

Oh, and life ain’t always what you think it ought to be, no

Ain’t even gray, but she buries her baby


2 thoughts on “the sharp knife of a short life

  1. Grace!!! stop thinking about this kind of thing!!! i don’t want my friends to die so early (thought it’s not something that i can control)!!!


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