My Wicked Awesome Obituary
- Kristan Higgins
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
My obituary is a masterpiece.
I’ve been working on it for more than a decade now. I mean, sure, I could leave it to my children and spouse, but let’s be honest. My version would be the best. Here’s the first line.
After a lifetime of envisioning her death in thousands of different and increasingly gruesome ways, Kristan Higgins— wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, cousin, friend and author—finally did die.
You’d keep reading, wouldn’t you?
I list my survivors, which are not just my beloved hubby kids, grands and sisters, but also my closest friends. The children who, while not related to me, felt like my own (looking at you, Hayley and Tess, Grace, Alexa, Wren and Roland). My obituary will mention how I had to stop and admire not just every dog who crossed our path, but every child, earning the nickname my kids gave me—Creepy Baby Lady.
There will be a note about how I always wanted to save someone’s life (which by then, I hopefully will have accomplished). If not, I’ll mention how Luther, my wonderful dog, successfully tracked the neighbor’s lost and trapped dog, saving them from heartbreak (I had a little bit to do with that, at least). I will talk about the fact that if you needed someone stat, I’d drop everything, watch your kids, do the dishes and fold your laundry. I’m good at that stuff. I think it deserves a mention.
My obit will talk about how I watched too many medical documentaries and was a frequent guest at the Mayo Clinic website. That I taught myself to quilt and arrange flowers like a pro. That I did some really hard volunteering—sexual assault crisis line, hospice volunteer, respite care for parents with kids with disabilities. I mention my career as an author, but more than that, the honor of getting to meet and interact with you, Readers.
Mostly, my obituary will talk about how grateful I was to have lived a life filled with love and friendship. How proud I was of my children. How much I loved the ordinary, happy days more than anything, because that kind of happiness is actually quite extraordinary.
In The Me I Used to Be, Audrey gets a chance to take a look at her life before its inevitable end. We all die, of course…Audrey just has a better idea of when that will happen. She has early onset dementia, and obviously, she’s so afraid of forgetting the people she loves the most. She wants the chance to see them all again, to be that best version of herself and let them know how loved they are. She wonders when she’ll stop being herself…and the answer isn’t what you might expect.
I think this book, more than any I’ve ever written, is necessary. It’s funny and sad and hopeful and happy…and maybe…a chance to make the rest of your lives better. It did that for me when I was writing it, and I hope with all my heart, it does that for you. I hope it will make you think about all that you’ve done in life, what you still want to do, and how wicked awesome your obituary is going to be.
