I am irreplaceable.
I want to be irreplaceable.
I want to believe that I am irreplaceable.
I want others to believe I am irreplaceable.
But the graveyard is full of irreplaceable people.
And I hope and wish that at least some of things that I did – or to which I contributed – will not stop when I am no longer there.
So how can I reconcile this fervent grasp for irreplaceability with
this knowledge that I am replaceable
and this hope that I will indeed be replaced?
Looking forward to some advice – from readers who do and readers who completely don’t recognise this train of thought.