...'Til Death Do Us Part

There is a certain finality about death that is denied to us throughout life. We spend all our time alive doing things that we deem necessary for survival and for living a good life. We are constantly striving to achieve something and we're never quite done. Life is a work in progress. The destination of this particular journey is the demise of our mortal shell.

It seems as if, even before we're quite finished with one objective, another goal is setup. We are barely done with exams in school when we have to work towards which college we're going to attend. At college we strive to get good scores but at the same time have to worry about getting a job. But the job is not the end of it all, it’s just the beginning. We have to move up the corporate ladder, buy a house, fill it up with unnecessary but desired stuff, have kids, work for their needs; it never ends.

But when it does, what happens? Where does it all go? You leave it all behind. Everything that you've achieved, all that you've done, all that you were, it's all left behind, to be forgotten. Will you be missed? Maybe. By the ones who loved you. But for how long? They too will move on. They will go on with their lives. You will be just a fading memory. The person you were- just dust in the wind. A fuzzy, hazy picture. Maybe, sometimes, a memory would bring it all into focus for a moment. But we know how ephemeral memories can be. It will all be lost.

You can leave behind no lasting legacy. Nothing you do will ever make your memory immortal. Your loved ones will mourn your passing but they must go themselves. All that you've worked for would vanish in the passing of time. And what if you lost someone you cared for? Someone who was close to you? How much would their loss affect you? How long would it affect you? How long would you grieve? Would life hold any meaning for you after that? Or would you just bide your time?

I wasn't afraid of dying. But as I grow older and my responsibilities and my duties grow, I wonder what will happen after I'm gone. I would like to be remembered. But I know I won't be for long. I would like to be missed. But I know I can't always be. I would like all that I've seen and experienced to be passed on. And there is still so much I have to do, things I have to see.

All that makes me me; I don't want it to end with me. The mental picture that I get when I hear an old favorite; the memory of the fragrance from a special evening; the feeling of joy when you meet someone you love after a long time; the way you perceived something; the way you remember a day; the love that overwhelms you when you think of your family; the excitement when you first got something that you really wanted; the fun of being out with friends; it's all that makes me unique.

There will never be another me. But I don't want me to have to cease to exist in the first place.