For my dad it was classic cars and motorcycles. He worked on them and knew them by make, model, and year. My children and I have the same enthusiasm. We honor the engineering, history, and art of the classics, and welcome the gentle reminder of my wonderful dad whenever we see one that he owned or admired.
One day after exercising, I looked around the floor and saw a scattering of disposable plastic water bottle lids. I knew my husband had been in the room. I can’t explain it, but he is unable to throw them away. There is a decent-sized trash can in the room, unobstructed, conveniently located by the door, but these little lids are everywhere but in the trash receptacle. If he dies before me, I will always think of him fondly when I find these plastic circles everywhere around the house, the yard, our cars, like Hansel and Gretel’s trail of breadcrumbs.
Because of this thought about dying and leaving a legacy, I asked my beloved groom, if I should die first, what is something that will remind him of me, he said, “Oh, there are so many things.” Name one. He said, “peace signs” and found a reason to scurry out of the room.
What will people remember you for? I think about that, probably too much. I believe my husband was on target when he answered, “so many things,” because I am all over the place trying to find something that I can do well enough to pursue past the initial learning phase. I’ve tried playing the banjo, which is much harder than you realize. I’ve tried painting, but I lack the vision of an artist. I’ve tried softball and golf, l rocked the outfits, but not the balls.
Perhaps one item I will be remembered for is tissues. My lifelong friend fondly and without provocation recalls the sleepovers from high school where she awoke to find a pile of used tissues next to my bed. Tissues are still wherever I am, my bedside, my car, my office. I’m also known for the intense sound upon clearing my nasal passages, my son’s friend said it sounds like an animal at the zoo. Most likely, when my loved ones hear a gentle goose-like honk and see a balled up used tissue, my sweet face will come to mind.
I consider music the language of my soul, although it changes frequently with my mood and situation. I listen to everything from Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan from the ‘60s, to Olivia Rodrigo, back to Jackson Browne in the ‘70s and 80s, up to Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga, over to Ray Charles, classical calms me while navigating traffic, and anytime is a good time for an Irish jig.
On the flip side, my husband is all Bruce Springsteen, every album, CD, and the only thing he listens to in the car is E-Street Radio. He’s attended countless concerts, taken all four of our children to see The Boss live, it’s 24/7 Springsteen for him. So maybe when I hear a Bruce song, I will think of him in addition to the clear circular plastic lids.
What will people remember you for? If you have nothing wonderful to bring them comfort and fond memories, change that right now. Find an interest, or let your personal uniqueness be known, share what matters, give those you leave behind something to remember you by and a reason to smile when they encounter that special thing. It lets them know you are always with them.
