My BFF Josie lost her father-in-law recently; obviously it’s a difficult period for the family.

I been thinking about death a lot lately (yes, it’s all about me) because in the past month I’ve had three other news of death;

• A colleague’s sister died suddenly two Fridays ago ;
• A consultant lost her husband to a degenerative disease days ago;
• And a gentleman we knew from Maryland died a few weeks ago.

We were recently discussing the legacies we leave behind when we die. I imagine wisdom, lessons, feats, traditions etc that’ll pass on to our descendants. I wondered if that was enough to want to live an exemplary life or make something of ourselves. Or we could choose to be the cautionary tale.

A couple of years back I went with Josie to her grandmother’s funeral in a mountain town in the eastern region of Ghana. There were throngs and throngs of mourners; people whose lives she’d touched in some way. Many spoke of her courage and incredible life; this inspired me even though I never knew her. Her existence was a reflection on her children and their accomplishments, she left a great legacy.

Today, I think about Josie’s little girl and I’m hopeful, one day she’ll know of the great people that came before her. Their legacies would shape her; she’ll learn from their examples and know their origins.

Pearlsa tells a dream she had after my grandmother died; my grandmother asked her to choose from two eggs, one a Fabergé-like egg and the other a plain brown egg. She obviously chose the nicer looking egg only to find it’s rotten inside, the plain egg on the other hand was fresh inside with a glorious shade of yolk. My grandmother tells her that she went away so that she’d be remembered like the inside of the plain egg rather than the egg that’s rotten on the inside.

I think death in a way inspires us and since it’s inevitable sometimes you just have to regrettably see the good that eventually comes out of it.