Day 10 —What do you want to be remembered for?
I have thought about this before. Mainly because I don’t have children and that this is often the accepted way of leaving something behind, your very bloodline. When I am old and grey, in my wheelchair in the rest home. who will visit me? Who will attend my funeral, if all my contemporaries have already passed? It can become a sadly confusing series of thoughts to dwell on.
In the end, I don’t think I want to be remembered for anything but rather, remembered through my own words. I want my writing to go on, as the actual representation of me in that moment I wrote it. But only for that moment, not for the sum of all my writing or even representative of the sum of all my thinking. Just a piece of who I am, or rather who I was, from that moment.
Just like my writing doesn’t represent every moment of my life, neither can children. It and they need recognition for the moment they are in, for their separate identity within the whole of who we are. If I am always looking for something to be remembered by, then that becomes how my life is lived. Instead of simply living in the moment or responding to what happens in that moment I am anticipating my death. Seems morbid when put that way, but no less accurate.
So when I die, don’t try and remember me, reference me instead. Alongside or instead of the sainthood label that death grants and the rosy glow that comes to those deceased.