I’ve always had this forked path in my head about my nephew. In one direction, I’m alive and giving him advice and helping to be a person he can open up to considering I know our family’s vast mental health problems. However, the other path is from other members of the family telling my nephew about me in past tense.
I try not to focus on that path very much because I know why I think it. Sometimes, I worry that my mental health will decline and instead of getting help, I’ll feel worthless and ride the boat to Hades.
Sometimes, I worry that pictures of me will be the only way he knows what I look like. The videos I’ve taken of him or the ones taken of me are the only way he knows how I sound. Or the tales told of me are his view into my psyche.