a final entry

She wasn’t sure what to include in her final entry. She thought about writing a poem, doing something more in the line of stream-of-consciousness, or, more pedantically, just saying good-bye. She finally decided that the final entry would be only one word. Only one. And it had to be the right one. She ran through these, of course: “love;” “hope;” “faith;” “truth.” They all sounded either to frou-frou or too preachy, and she was, truly, neither. After a time, she settled on “dignity,” which was a bit odd, at first glance. She wasn’t always the most dignified of people. Her language often was peppered with the most objectionable of vulgarities. She never really dressed with any purpose or élan. She never, as far as she could remember, which varied greatly, lately, depending on the day, used the word in conversation. Never discussed it. Never espoused it, for sure. But it was what she was feeling, now, what she was trying to meet, after all she’d been through. She wanted to be remembered by that – dignity. So, it was that which she left behind. In the end, that one word. Writing it made her smile, that final entry. And that, in itself, was a very, very good thing.