If you could be remembered for just one thing, what would you hope that one thing would be? I ask myself this all the time, especially during those moments when my sense of balance feels a little askew. It’s one of those thoughtful asks that makes you think and think and think some more, isn’t it? And it can seriously shift a to-do list, placing “Talk movies with Ralph” and “Take a walk with Olive” before anything work-related! Luckily for me, a few new friends agreed to think and think and think some more, getting this week’s conversation sparked so meaningfully. Enjoy their answers, please, and start thinking of your own!
Jasmine of Gift Wrapsody:
I would hope to be remembered as someone who wasn’t afraid to be true to myself. For me, that means being comfortable in my own skin, not being scared to keep trying new things (and failing), or sometimes simply swimming against the currents.
Bernadette of Barefoot Hippie Girl:
If I could be remembered for just one thing, I’d hope that it would be that I was a woman of God. Like, if that was what was written on my tombstone, “She was a woman of God” that would be amazing. Oh, and that “she made the best peanut butter pie.”
M.J. of Pars Caeli:
I hope to be remembered as a disproportionate, exorbitant giver of love and an unobstructed, dazzling mirror of the beauty my three children and my husband have revealed to me, offering every person I bump into in life, a little brighter frame of reference.
Chedva of Rooms and Words:
As a kid, one of my biggest fears was to not be remembered after I’m gone (yeah, I was a bit morbid). I decided I have to be a great author so that everyone remembers my name. Fast forward to today, I’ve had my name published in books (as a fiction translator) and in magazines (as a design journalist), but what I really want is to be remembered lovingly by my family, and especially my son, for being a good mother.
Jennifer of Me Mama Me Mima:
I would hope to be remembered for really paying attention. It’s a habit I am still trying to cultivate — listening hard for the telling detail; sensing fear and frustration when they are still just wisps and not yet thick fogs; knowing how to tell a happy smile from a nervous smile from a proud smile from a sly smile. My mom is an expert at noticing when a silly little thing is actually a great big deal. And so often, as I recall, that’s what saved the day. I aspire to a reputation for such attentiveness.
This was so lovely. Thank you, ladies, for chatting with us! I honestly related to each answer. “She made the best peanut butter pie” made me smile. And Jennifer, your mom sounds pretty wonderful. Paying attention to someone else is pure love, isn’t it?
Friends, have you thought about your own answers? I’m wondering if your to-do list today just got rearranged!
Photo by Hilda Randulv on Flickr.