I recently had a conversation with a much older friend, about what truly define us, what we would be remembered by; it’s not by our zip code, nor socioeconomic status, etc, but the impact we’ve made on others.
This made me think at the present moment in time. I am not perfect nor has been my choices. I have a young child who is biased by the love he has for me, in his eyes I’m perfect despite my imperfections. But…
Whom will I be remembered by when I draw my last breath and leave this earth? Aside of my child? Who has seen my soul and has embraced my perfect imperfections and can say good things about me?
In who’s memory will I forever live like my mother lives in mine? Who else will be my advocate when my voice is forever silenced?
Life is a funny thing, isn’t it? We go each day overwhelmed by the day to day struggles, the mundane things without much thought of the imprints we leave behind, without concern of how our existence has affected others.
Who will say kind words about me aside of him? Who will paint a picture of my true essence erasing the doubts and negativity of others? Allowing them to get to know the true me after I’ve left this earth…who else will? Fortunate are those who have at least one person who’s voice can reverberate throughout the ages in unconditional love for them and fight to honor their memory.
Interesting. My mom and dad are still alive, but many relatives and friends are not. I remenber all of them in different ways. About me? No opinion…
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Interesting question. My mom and dad are still alive, but many relatives and friends aren´t. I remember all of them for many reasons. About me? No opinion…
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This is the question which has defined my life for many years now.
Let your writing legacy live after you by making it resound with Hope and Beauty. My mother has long gone but memories of her and her love came back. She wrote…..,’ today I saw a flower;’ Maybe this was penned back in 1920 but her tiny drawing found its way into the pages of an old dictionary I used last week. Keep writing about life flawed but resounding with Hope.
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Thank you for reading and for sharing your story.
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Interesting question I have never thought about, but I do wonder who will remember me when I am gone.
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