I was driving home the other day, top down (on the car), listening to the radio, sun shining down, cool breeze tangling up my hair...when for some odd unknown reason it hit me...
This would be how my movie would end.
No, there are no ambitious film makers out there just knocking on my door to make a movie about my life.
But if there was.
If there was a movie about me.
That's how the movie would end. Or at least that's how I would want it to end.
I've always said I won't die of CF...it's not going to be the reason I leave this earth.
Sorry, it's just not! (Who exactly I'm apologizing to there, I don't know. Maybe CF in general...)
And Chris and I have decided that we are both going to die at 86 of euthanasia.
In my head though, I pictured me driving my convertible, top down, hair gracefully blowing in the wind (there will be no tangling, because that just doesn't happen in movies) and some lovely melody (or Ludacris) playing in the background, with a closing monologue about how I left the earth gracefully.
And then later I was home, turning off the lights in the office/scrap room and had ALL kinds of scrapbook stuff just hanging out on the desk, floor, etc...and it hit me again.
I wonder if this is how the room would look like when someone returns to my home afterwards!?!?!?!
Of course then I remembered how OCD I am and figured probably not. But I guess it could.
And will someone really ever look at these scrapbooks I've done?
To be perfectly honest, I haven't the foggiest idea why I would be thinking about such a morbid topic.
There's no real point to this post, or deep meaning.
I just wonder if anyone else has these crazy thoughts run through their head.
Or is it just me...that I'm somehow morbidly interested in how my life would be perceived at the end, and how someone might choose to "end scene."
What would your life movie look like?
Who would play you?
How would your movie end?
