How I’ll Be Remembered

Me and my parents’ dog Ray/RayRay/Raymond, circa 2011

To my paternal grandmother,
I was “Little Rachel.”

To my parents,
I was the miracle child,
touched by healing angels.

To my brother,
I was “Sarah won’t stop!”

To those who knew me when I was in high school,
I was Bashful Dwarf in a dress.

To my Mormon friends (now acquaintances),
I don’t really know anymore.

To my first real boyfriend,
I did not fit the Mormon mold,
which made me unfit.

To my second,
I was his future wife.

To my third,
I was Kryptonite.

To my husband,
I’m as warm and loving
as I am cold and crazy.

To my Hannah,
I’m “Mama-Fix-It!”

To my husband’s family,
I’m probably “that bitch who banned Uncle David from her wedding.”
(What else is a bride to do when he never acknowledges her presence?)

To my friends,
I am probably at least one of these:
The write-a-holic, the girl who never wears pants, the girl with the bright lipstick, the health major who is a “closet English major,” the non-traditional college student, the unconventional conservative Christian, the brunette with blond moments, the mother, the baker, and the long-suffering wife.

And to myself?
I am who I am,
and who I may seem to you,
is simply a reflection of how you’ve treated me.

One thought on “How I’ll Be Remembered

  1. Pingback: Summer Writing Mini-Workshop: Drawing from the Well | Sarah Lea Stories

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