An Egotist's Immortality

I was talking to India two nights ago after she had a really hard day. She is a senior and going off to college before too long and she needed to cry on Dad's shoulder. She doesn't do that too much anymore and though I hate that she needs to cry, I do enjoy when she needs to put her nearly six foot frame on my lap and needs to be held while she just cries. Her leaving will be difficult to bear.

After she drained her emotions and reaffirmed that I would be there for her always I knew I was supposed to talk to her for awhile. I'm supposed to kinda ramble about things and change the subject a bit. She seems to like, on occasion, to just listen to me talk. After awhile I read her one of the posts here on this site. Then I asked her if she knew why I posted some of the things I write. (I write pretty much every day, I don't post everything or even most) She said no, I told her that the obvious was of course that I like an audience. I like to know that at least a few people read it. I told her that was ego and if I had something to say I would rather say it to someone instead of yelling off a mountain top. You know? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it then who cares? I need something a little more. Then I told her another reason. I had not thought of this before and realized how true it was as the words were leaving my mouth. I told her that I hoped one day her grandchildren would sit on her lap and she may read to them the stories of her dad's life, and imagination.

Immortality. I want something a little more than a headstone to mark my presence on this earth.

So now I know, really, why I write and I also feel that I have a mission. I am going to be write more. Record more. I have a job to do and it is totally narcissistic but hell, you know? Whatever.