How would you want to be remembered? (posted 11/10/06)

How often do you tell yourself "someday I'm going to see/do/experience _______." We have a tendency to go about our daily lives with some future goal in mind, often failing to take advantage of where we are in the moment. Rushed and harried by work obligations, crossing things off our "to do" lists, and fulfilling other life roles assigned to us doesn't always leave much room for things that are just as, if not more, important. Appreciating beauty, seeing the humor in nearly any situation, seizing the day ("Carpe Diem"), and recognizing one's own mortality....just a few examples of what you're missing out on if you don't take the time to smell the proverbial roses now and then.

I'm no exception to falling prey to the monotony of daily routine. Most days, I sadly awake at 4am with my first conscious thought of the day being "It's time to wake up AGAIN?? So early? Why?!?!" Wash, rinse, repeat Monday through Saturday. And then a perfectly beautiful autumn day comes along to open my eyes to what I'm missing. "Carpe Diem Katie." While I certainly believe this, I'm not a faithful follower of this philosophy, try as I might. Wednesday, I finally opened my eyes after a long "nap."

With my digital camera in tow, I finally had a different kind of experience to cross off my "life" to-do list. For about a year now, I've been telling myself "Someday I'm going to go to Graceland Cemetary just to wander around looking at old gravestones and take some photos while there." I didn't quite realize what I was in store for when I walked into the cemetary. Usually not one to shy away from risks and "adventures" of sorts, I was surprised that I felt slightly uncomfortable and creeped out as I walked around aimlessly. As I walked upon the earth that housed the dead below, I felt my boots sink in a bit. "How solid is this grass/dirt beneath me?" I wondered. Visions of decomposing hands bursting forth from the ground started to infiltrate the trappings of my imagination.

The more gravestones I read and photographed, the more I began to feel a sadness for the deceased. Some only had one word engraved on the stone: "Mother," "Baby," "Grandma," "Brother," etc. Others had just the typical first and last name with their respective birth and death dates. Then there were those that indicated their "role" in life: military officer, medical doctor, or beloved family member. Still others that were completely devoid of any identification. There was only one that told me something about a person: "Rich in Friends." I liked that one. Generally speaking though, it saddened me to wonder how much these people are/were missed if gravestones couldn't even capture a true representation of who they were.

Do we only live on in the memories of the living, or is it best to be remembered in the comfort of the written word? "Soft" memories vs. "concrete" memories....

I haven't come up with an answer. I'm not even sure there is one. All I know is that I want to be remembered as more than a name, age, and "sister, daughter, friend, and/or lover." Who I am is more than the tangible aspects of my Self, it's how I choose to LIVE that will dictate my "in memoriam."

Carpe Diem.