I must say I don't care if I'm remembered or not. It's not as if I've made some huge contribution to society like inventing the internet or helping Jews escape from Nazi Germany. I've led a very ordinary life and I don't think I'm remarkable in any way at all.
In fact I wonder why some people are so keen to be remembered. Are they screaming narcissists, do they just want to be famous, do they feel insignificant? All I know is, I don't care if I vanish into oblivion the moment I die. I think the more important thing is whether I enjoyed my life, which I have.
But if by any chance I do happen to be remembered, what for?
Obviously I'd like to be remembered as a civilised, intelligent, considerate, open-minded person, rather than a ranting bigot, a serial killer or a tyrannical boss. In particular I'd like to be remembered as a critical thinker, someone who asked searching questions and didn't just accept the fashionable ideas of the moment.
Or perhaps I'm more likely to be remembered as the hopeless dimwit who gets lost in any tangled TV or movie plot. Or the weak-bladdered old codger who goes for a pee four times a night. Or the scatty driver who gets into the wrong lane and wonders why he's being hooted at.
Or they'll totally mis-remember me and think I was their college lecturer or their driving instructor. Which is okay as long as the people in question were totally brilliant and turned their whole life around.
But not otherwise.
I really only want to be remembered by my family. My grandson thinks I'm the best thing ever, so what more could I want?
ReplyDeleteBijoux: Sounds like you'll be remembered in the right way. I wouldn't mind being thought of as "the best thing ever"!
DeleteI imagine when I die I will initially be remembered in all sorts of ways. But, eventually we will all be forgotten. In a way, that is a comfort to me.
ReplyDeleteColette: It would be quite interesting to know how people remembered me. For my strengths or my weaknesses? Or just some of my sillier remarks?
DeleteDoesn't matter if anyone remembers you in the long term. You ain't no Beethoven. Neither am I. And, anyway, scant comfort, we won't know whether we are remembered or not. And for how long.
ReplyDeleteStrange that your post comes on this 18 Feb, an anniversary of the worst day of my life. I was eight when my grandmother, the woman who brought me up the first few years of my life, the woman I loved, died. If I told you how long ago that was I'd give away my age. Nothing wrong with that. Still, people think me at least ten years younger than I am - so why shatter an illusion.
You ask what one should be remembered for. Forgetting Beethoven (and Mozart) we will be remembered for love by the still living. That my grandmother, and my grandfather, is/are [loved]. By me.
I sometimes look over photographs of my forebears (going back as far as the late 1800s), people I haven't met yet was told many an anecdote about.
My own mother told me, in the wake of my "first" mother's death, her mother's death, that "as long as you remember someone they are not really dead". Which, I'd say, gives most mortals max three generations till we don't exist any longer. In someone's memory.
I enjoy walking around graveyards and cemeteries. Apart from the peace and quiet in those places I'd like to think that whenever I read a gravestone's description, linger near a grave, that that too gives meaning to an unknown's life.
On a lighter note, Nick: Some years ago the Angel and I were walking a country walk culminating in Minstead. Arthur Canon Doyle (for the uninitiated Sherlock Holmes creator) and his wife buried there. It's one of those typically, and most wonderful, English graveyards where nature takes its course. So there were no demarcations to the plot, just grass. Largely. Enter the Angel. I got close to the weathered gravestone of Arthur Canon Doyle to decipher the inscription when my son called out, in horror: "Mama, you are STANDING on him". Indeed. Oh dear. I don't think Canon Doyle or his wife minded but still . . .
Thanks for indulging me, Nick, on this truly shitty 18 Feb once upon a year.
U
Ursula: I'm sorry your grandmother died when you were still so young. My own maternal grandmother, who I adored, didn't die till I was in my twenties.
DeleteI once accidentally trod on the tomb of the Unknown Warrior at the Arc de Triomphe and was loudly admonished by a big crowd of horrified bystanders!
My son has already decided what my epitaph will be. "He laughed his way to his death."
ReplyDeleteRamana: Ah yes, I remember that! I might very well do the same. I can't see myself taking my imminent death at all seriously.
DeleteAndy and I aren't going to have obituaries or memorial services, but Kaitlin has the information she needs to write a final post saying why I won't be blogging any more. That's only considerate, I think. And if Andy passes I'll phone a few people to let them know why they will no longer be seeing him. Again, it's only considerate.
ReplyDeleteJean: Me too. Jenny knows how to access my blog so she'll be able to post something when I finally take my leave. I've told her it has to be suitably eulogistic or she'll be turned into a pillar of salt.
DeleteI've often wondered what my great grandparents were like. My grandparents aren't around anymore and my parents didn't know them well. I can only hope that my grandson tells his kids about me and they have something like social media posts to remember me by.
ReplyDeleteMary: I know nothing about my great grandparents. They could have been thieves and bandits for all I know. But yes, my blog posts will be a very detailed remembrance once I'm physically gone.
DeleteIf I am remembered I like to think it was because I helped people see things in a different way. They are not always big things but I have been told by several people that they changed their lives because of something I said or wrote. I feel honored by that.
ReplyDeleteLinda: Helping people to see things in a different way is an interesting trait to be remembered for. I've no idea if I have that effect on other people, but I'd like to think so.
DeleteI plan to just slip quietly away. I've left written instructions that there be no service of any kind.
ReplyDeleteI bought my own plot next to Bob's when he died.
everything is taken care of so it won't be a bother to anyone I hope. I've chosen cremation. it seems simple and clean and minimal! LOL.
I'm sure somebody who knows me will say... "FINALLY!
we can NOW get a word in edgewise!"
Tammy: I haven't left any instructions for my death, and Jenny can do whatever she feels comfortable with. Except that I want to be cremated rather than buried.
DeleteI want to be remembered.......fondly
ReplyDeleteJohn: Me too. I want people to say "wasn't he a lovely guy?"
DeleteI haven't given thought to being remembered. I suppose different people will remember me in differing ways based on the nature of our relationship, professional as colleague or health care provider, friend, family and other. I would hope any memories of me would be mostly positive, that for some they might recognize knowing me may have made a difference in their life. I would like to think I've mostly been a positive influence in life while I was here, perhaps facilitating others to do the same in ways that continue to future generations though my name would likely have long been forgotten -- and that's just fine, to be expected.
ReplyDeleteJoared: Making a difference to other people's lives is a good thing to be remembered for. I doubt if I've made much of a difference to anyone's life (apart from Jenny of course), but who knows?
DeleteWHAT? You doubt that you have "made much of a difference to anyone's life"? Well, Nick, let it be said by me (though maybe not on your gravestone, what with the limited space) you sure made a most welcome difference to my life, if only (and I don't mean "only") in blogland. Blogland being as good as any place for people to communicate, you have restored my faith in the possibility that, with good will, amends can be made, second (or more) chances given. In short, peace - despite of "it". Whatever "it" may constitute - be it differences of opinions, countries, religions, people.
DeleteSo there, Nick. If you have just fainted on account of the above I do have most effective smelling salts,
U
Ursula: Well, thank you for that. I'm glad I've made a difference to your life, and glad you appreciate the "second chance". It's all very simple really. I expect my blogmates to follow the generally understood blogging etiquette. If they do, that's fine, if they don't, I ask them to go elsewhere (just as some people have asked me to go elsewhere). Oh, and I haven't fainted yet.
DeleteI guess as we age we tend to have these kinds of thoughts. And why worry/think/speculate about this? Well my answer would be that I hoped to have lived honourably. I know (from what he told me) I did save someone's life, maybe there were more, I don't know. I'd like to be remembered with love. And laughter. I have the gift of making people laugh. At themselves, at me. I remember my great grandmother. I would be the only one on earth who does now. And that pleases me. Knowing when I go, she is finally at rest.
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
www: I'd agree with all that. To have lived honourably, with love, with laughter. Sounds good to me. Usually I give no thought at all to what I might be remembered for, but that question in the book got me thinking.
Deletefor what it's worth Nick...
ReplyDeleteI would remember you as a wonderfully dry wit. and a lovely man who felt strongly and deeply and wasn't afraid to say how he felt. who loved nature and animals of all kinds... even the human kind. who disarmed the bullying kind with straightforward anger and courage. who lovingly understood his little mum's foible of hoarding and who loved his Jenny and his life of books and simplicity and the beautiful city of Belfast!
Tammy: What a lovely tribute, thank you! I don't think I'm very good at disarming bullies though. I'm a bit too cowardly to challenge them. My first reaction is usually just to get out of the firing line!
DeleteBy the time I come to be remembered, I won't care, obviously. But now while I think of it, the thing that comes into my mind is that I'd like to be remembered as a decent person.
ReplyDeleteJenny: Me too. I'd hate to be remembered as someone mean, nasty and selfish.
DeleteI like reading gravestones too, and wonder about the people who are buried there.
ReplyDeleteWe'll be remembered via these blogs and comments, I reckon. Fine by me.
Sx
Ms Scarlet: There's something fascinating about graveyards and all those long-gone souls. Did they have happy or unhappy lives? What were their likes and dislikes? One can only guess.
DeleteI hope my kids remember how much I loved them. Beyond that, I don't particularly care if I'm remembered.
ReplyDeleteAgent: Sounds good to me. And from what I can see, you love your kids very deeply.
Delete