I get a little sad sometimes, thinking about how most of my life is already behind me.

Maybe if I'm lucky I've got 30% left to live. And maybe only 20%. Maybe less.

I don't have children. There will not be grandchildren or great-grandchildren. And yet I want to be remembered.

So I write. And I hope some - a few - of my words might last.

I have nieces and nephews. And grandnieces and nephews. They might remember me - their silly, vain, old Aunt Nancy.

I suppose the advantage to being old today is that I will die before the planet does. It may be a blessing that I have no grandchildren or great-grandchildren who will suffer as the planet deteriorates.

But I do love those nieces and nephews and their children. And their children's children, even though I don't know them yet. I love them already.

So this week is especially sad.

I want all those future children - the ones who might rememeber me and the ones who don't - to see and hear and feel the wondrous things I had the privilege of experiencing while on this earth.

I wish for my great-great grandnephews and nieces:

The squawk of a seagull as it swoops along the shoreline