Do you ever think about your legacy? As a parent, we know, or hope, we will be remembered for at least one more generation. I often wonder about two things: first, that I'm doing to make a difference and leave a lasting impression on this world and second, what I want people to know about me when I'm no longer here.
I don't have one of those obvious life impacting professions. I don't help bring people into the world or help keep them here. But, I like helping people and my job lets me do that in quite a direct way. I go home happy each night, knowing maybe one less college student will enter the workforce annoying everyone around them by acting like they deserve to make $80,000 and be the boss.
I hope I'm a good wife. I know I'm not a traditional spouse and my cooking is sub par. But, I'm fun and interesting, honest, loyal and supportive. I think these qualities have also made me a good friend and at least I've provided comic relief to many a dull day for those around me.
Like my mom, I hope I am able to raise wonderful children (well, I'm wonderful, my sibling qualifies as a unique character and a decent member of society) and instill in them my values about life and being a good person. It is my legacy, I am certain, that long after my death, my great-great grandchildren will make their bed, clean their rooms and keep the profanity at home.
I often ask Andy, "What do you want on your tombstone?" He never, ever answers and only makes some comment about Tombstone pizza and that horrible commercial from a few years back. I think about this question all of the time. When I'm gone, what will be my lasting last words? This is so important to me because I feel these final words are the summation of who we were and why we were here.
Loving daughter, mother, sister and friend. That's one option. But, the statement changes every day, depending on my mood. And sometimes, in an inspired moment, I feel certain statements would be perfect. "Yeah, yeah, that's IT! That sums me up! I'm so glad I thought of that. I can sleep better tonight."
For some reason, these statements always come to mind in the car. Like today's, "Secretly loved Phil Collins. Pseu-psue-pseudio." Or one from a few weeks back, "Her favorite food was cheesecake." Or how about this one, "Drank lots of coffee and wine." or "Slept a lot."
When Andy focuses too much on work I challenge him, "Do you want your tombstone to say 'Attached to a computer' or 'Clocked 10 million cell phone minutes', 'Created the best PowerPoint presentation about non-profit governance'? " Is this my own selfishnesses coming out? Am I angry because it appears he places more value on his profession and less on me and the family? Since he never answers my question, I don't know if my suggestions would be his actual response or if his role in my life will eventually be carved in stone for eternity.
The other day I was driving in the car and of course, had another epiphany about my tombstone statement. I really do like this one, though, from my one of my favorite duos, Simon and Garfunkel:
Slow down, you move too fast, you've got to make the morning last. Just kickin' down the cobble-stones, lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy, I've got no deeds to do, no promises to keep. I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. Let the morning time drop all its petals on me. Life I love you, all is groovy.
I'm sure that's going to cost a lot of money to carve but I'll start saving soon.
I don't have one of those obvious life impacting professions. I don't help bring people into the world or help keep them here. But, I like helping people and my job lets me do that in quite a direct way. I go home happy each night, knowing maybe one less college student will enter the workforce annoying everyone around them by acting like they deserve to make $80,000 and be the boss.
I hope I'm a good wife. I know I'm not a traditional spouse and my cooking is sub par. But, I'm fun and interesting, honest, loyal and supportive. I think these qualities have also made me a good friend and at least I've provided comic relief to many a dull day for those around me.
Like my mom, I hope I am able to raise wonderful children (well, I'm wonderful, my sibling qualifies as a unique character and a decent member of society) and instill in them my values about life and being a good person. It is my legacy, I am certain, that long after my death, my great-great grandchildren will make their bed, clean their rooms and keep the profanity at home.
I often ask Andy, "What do you want on your tombstone?" He never, ever answers and only makes some comment about Tombstone pizza and that horrible commercial from a few years back. I think about this question all of the time. When I'm gone, what will be my lasting last words? This is so important to me because I feel these final words are the summation of who we were and why we were here.
Loving daughter, mother, sister and friend. That's one option. But, the statement changes every day, depending on my mood. And sometimes, in an inspired moment, I feel certain statements would be perfect. "Yeah, yeah, that's IT! That sums me up! I'm so glad I thought of that. I can sleep better tonight."
For some reason, these statements always come to mind in the car. Like today's, "Secretly loved Phil Collins. Pseu-psue-pseudio." Or one from a few weeks back, "Her favorite food was cheesecake." Or how about this one, "Drank lots of coffee and wine." or "Slept a lot."
When Andy focuses too much on work I challenge him, "Do you want your tombstone to say 'Attached to a computer' or 'Clocked 10 million cell phone minutes', 'Created the best PowerPoint presentation about non-profit governance'? " Is this my own selfishnesses coming out? Am I angry because it appears he places more value on his profession and less on me and the family? Since he never answers my question, I don't know if my suggestions would be his actual response or if his role in my life will eventually be carved in stone for eternity.
The other day I was driving in the car and of course, had another epiphany about my tombstone statement. I really do like this one, though, from my one of my favorite duos, Simon and Garfunkel:
Slow down, you move too fast, you've got to make the morning last. Just kickin' down the cobble-stones, lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy, I've got no deeds to do, no promises to keep. I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. Let the morning time drop all its petals on me. Life I love you, all is groovy.
I'm sure that's going to cost a lot of money to carve but I'll start saving soon.
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