"One lives in the hope of becoming a memory." -Antonio Porchia,
It occurs to me that this is probably the best that anyone could ever really hope for. Not fame or glory; not vanity either. I am not even talking about true immortality the kind that lives on after we are gone, in others, in their hearts and minds. This is not about heavenly immortality. I tend to believe that Soul or Spirit, lives on after we are gone in some fashion. But that is not what I'm talking about here.
Its about what we leave behind. The memory of us. As long as that lives on, we never die. Nor do those whom we have loved and lost.
We create the memories of us for others, but ultimately it belongs to them. To be thought of now and then after we're gone; whether it is for the love we shared, my works or deeds (good of not so great), my writing, or any of my contributions to life I may have made.
I just hope not be forgotten. And I hope to keep those I have loved alive by talking and writing about them. To matter, to leave a memory of what was, who I was, and what I did and said while on this mortal plane.
More the memory of my smile, my voice, my touch, to warm the heart and still the soul, long than any frowns or angry words I may have spoken. To live aware you are creating memories for everyone you encounter.
If not to be a memory, what would our life's ambition be? That, gentle reader, I do wonder and hope the memories of us are fond.
