Running late, chronically. Lock the door, keys into the purse, purse onto the passenger seat, throw the car into reverse, purse on the floor. At stop lights I duck down and try to gather the contents of my overstuffed orange, patent leather Kate Spade purse, a feeble attempt at making sure I arrive at my internship on time.
Eyes off the road, I feel myself moving. I panic and slam on the break, suddenly realizing my foot had slipped off.
“It happens to everyone,” I reassure myself.
“It wouldn’t have been that bad,” I tell myself.
But what if it had been "that bad"…
I’m in the midst of binge watching yet another doctor drama, Nurse Jackie is about a group of ER nurses and doctors in NYC and their everyday life, which includes a lot of people suffering from careless accidents like the one I was almost a part of.
Suddenly I caught myself going down that dark, twisty road. “What if that were me being wheeled into the ER and not just some extra on a TV show?” “What would the health professionals be able to tell about me from that frozen moment in time?”
They would quickly find out that I am an organ donor and a bone marrow donor (shameless plug: if you’re not already get registered, it’s so easy and so worth it). They would be able to find my parents in my contact list and notify them. But aside from that, how much would they really know about the life they held in their hands?
They wouldn’t know that my orange purse was a gift for my 18th birthday from my boyfriend and that he gave it to me when I visited him in the hospital where he was being treated for leukemia.
They wouldn’t know why I was in Michigan with a North Dakota license.
They wouldn’t know that I was looking forward to being reunited with all my roommates for the first time in nearly six weeks.
But then again, how many people in my life really would know that information?
Mine was a small, nearly inconsequential reality check, but a reality check nonetheless. It made me realize I need to finish what I’ve started, say the things I’ve been scared to say, do all that I have been putting off. I need to live my life in a loud, proud, unabashed, limitless way. So, this is my small reminder, not only to myself but to those around me.
Make your love for others known. Make your passions known. Be proud of who you are, where you come from, where you, and who you love. Buy the bumper sticker. Where the obnoxious t-shirt. Post the Facebook status. Leave your mark because you never know when it will be the last mark you leave.
This is precisely why I write about what I write about. I write about what I love, I write about things I want to share with the world. I write to leave my mark.
