I bet this is exactly what you wanted when you wanted a happy start to your week. Death. More death. And a bit more death. I know humankind has a natural aversion to self-reference in the past tense, but it’s something we cannot avoid. Unless you’re Superman. Excluding, of course, the quite simply ridiculous Death of Superman. They weren’t gonna kill him, were they? Mind you, his obituary would be pretty stunning. But I digress. As per usual.
I suppose the question would split into either a hypothetical scenario or a rather sadder scenario. Hypothetically speaking, I could live a long and rather fruitful and fulfilling life. Ergo, how I’d like to be remembered is rather obvious. But if I died today, things would be different. Since I don’t like to assume what might be, I’ll take it that I died today. I haven’t, obviously, but that’s what I’m gonna do.
It’s not something I’ve ever thought about. I try very hard not to concern myself with what others think of me. I know I’m not perfect; I don’t need somebody giving me grief over it. I like to think that extends to death. Write what you want about me, I’m dead, I can’t do anything about it. I could lead the most charitable life possible, but once I’m gone, it would only take one person to sully my image and that’s my reputation down the pan. The point is that how you are remembered doesn’t really matter. It’s the life you lead that matters.
Look, I’d love my obituary to paint me in a positive light. If I died today, I don’t know what it would read but I like to think it wouldn’t be negative. I’ve never hurt anyone outside of retaliation and that’s not my fault. I try not to shout at people. I try my best. Fail quite a lot. But each life is nothing but a grain of sand. That grain of sand in the big picture is a minute element of the beach of life. That’s the phrase. Life’s a beach. I think. Might be wrong on that. Doesn’t mean we’re insignificant, just that how we’re remembered isn’t who we are.
That grain of sand is very special. To ourselves. And to those we love. And to those we lose. How do I want to be remembered to those people? I’m nothing special. I’m not good at anything, really. I look like a horse’s arse. I haven’t got a personality. Not funny in the slightest. Never talk to anyone. Painfully shy. Lost. There are no qualities there that are memorable. All I ask is to be remembered.
What will my obituary say?
Ally. A man with a constant look of puzzlement. Remember me.
How would you like to be remembered, readers?
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Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:
The Indelible Life of Me
Hark Around The Words