What are we, ultimately, but the sum of our personal recollections?
As I wander deeper into the unassailable dredges of advanced age and the vicissitudes encountered in the descending slog that always accompanies the inevitable isolation and penitence it begets, I find myself troubled by a reckoning I have acknowledged along the way.
I often contemplate my mortality, how my life will be viewed and recognized, its meaning and purpose, and in what manner family members, friends, and associates will remember me.
I believe this is a normal reaction and observation as we mature and age and suffer through the drama, tragedy, torment, heartache, delight, and fulfillment encountered as we travel along the pathways of life.
Intrinsically, every living person excels or shines at something.
Whatever distinctive talent, skill, or achievement we have acquired or developed is something we do as well or more noteworthy than anyone we know or associate with.
For better or worse, this becomes our legacy and badge of honor we wear to be recognized for, the singular or multi-purposed ability you are known for, celebrated for, and thought of, whatever that capability, gift, or aptitude is.
However, the obstacle we all confront, regardless of notoriety attained or accolades achieved, is one cannot understand and appreciate oneself or value the purpose of this life unless one first identifies and comes to terms with the personal story and individuality that contributed to that collective interpretation.
Suppose you cannot determine and develop this inherited genetic makeup from an intimate reflection of your temperament and character.
In that case, you will struggle throughout life, and your journey may lack meaning, clarity, dignity, purpose, and worth.
Your passage could be complex, problematical, and challenging.
We all need personal validation- to be remembered and appreciated for something, regardless of how trivial or inconsequential that something may be.
We all have memories to share and stories to tell.
For this reason, as I approach the twilight of my mortal lifespan and watch more and more family and friends succumb to the inevitable ravages of time, suffering, misfortune, and tribulation, I’ve come to believe a person’s purpose, mission, and most meaningful goal aspired to as we hobble through this earthly, secular, and fragile existence, is to live, learn, grow, love, and respect one another.
At the same time, we should all strive to achieve the most committed and purposeful way of life, given our station in society, our place in our community of family and friends, and our resolve in the socioeconomic structure of nature. Then, when we perish from this earthly existence, all the stories, talents, and memories collected in this human encounter will disappear.
Every single one of the eccentricities, personal narratives, sagas, fables, yarns, trials, ordeals, misfortune, and all of our remembrances terminate with our demise, never to be re-claimed, recovered, or salvaged, and that is the profound tragedy of this existence.
Our time on this planet is finite and a non-renewable resource, and tomorrow is not guaranteed.
This irrefutable rationale is our undeniable destiny, and we all die.
Therefore, as we approach the culmination of our lives, I believe that as we grow older, develop, and trek along the many paths of discovery and understanding we encounter daily, the callings, passions, desires, and purposes we enjoyed and lived through during our formative years should now transform from a quest of engagement and observing those many experiences and occasions that have shaped our lives to a gathering, organization, and revelation of those events.
Chronicling and validating the many interactions, happenstances, judgments, ideologies, histories, narratives, anecdotes, emotions, and beliefs we have amassed over the sum of a lifetime of acquisition, however notable or relevant, for whatever reason or motivation, is the only inheritance we may leave for posterity and the future generations that may follow in our footsteps, no matter how hefty, or faint those footprints may be.
This testament should be a solemn obligation and responsibility that should never be dismissed, neglected, or forgotten, regardless of the time, effort, sacrifice, platform, process, or method required.
When we pass from this existence, all we can bequeath to others is the gratitude of persevering in, protecting, recording, and appreciating our individual stories and memories.
This modest but noble endeavor validates our legacy, gives meaning to our lives, and can be our most valuable and cherished commitment to and leave behind for family, friends, and future generations.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
