I used to have grandiose visions of what my funeral would look like. I actually thought about it often. Maybe because I’m as morbid as I am self obsessed or maybe because I felt it’d take place a lot sooner than most people, including myself at one time, thought it would. Lord knows if something — really everything — didn’t change when it did, my name would have ended up on a prayer card.
I’m glad it didn’t end for me then. There wouldn’t have been much for anyone to say. Not as far as pleasantries go anyway. Any mentioned would have been somewhat distant at that point and only brought up out of respect, etiquette and unconditional love from a select few. Thankfully, that’s not the legacy I left.
At the end of the day, I want to be remembered for who I truly was. For the parts of me and moments I was a part of that actually mattered. When I’m gone, don’t paint a picture of me as perfect just because I’m dead, I was so far from it. Remember me as flawed but as someone who always wanted to and tried to be better. Take all of my missteps and learn from them. Don’t let people I wasn’t close with pretend we were the best of friends for attention at my funeral, it’s a pet peeve and honestly can I not have one day?
If there was one word I wanted attached to my name when I’m no longer here, it’d be loyalty. The only quality I care to be remembered for is being someone who would do anything for those he loved. As one who put those he cared about before himself, to a fault at times. My friends and family always came first. I’d like to be remembered for having lived with passion. As someone who did the best he could with the hand he was dealt. Don’t let my passing be a pain that plagues you, remember all of the laughter. Each and every good time.
I hope I’m remembered as someone who woke up everyday and tried to do better than he did the day before. I hope to have taught one thing to even just a small fraction of the amount of people I learned something from. If I’m lucky, my transgressions are forgiven and I’ll take no grudges to the grave.
I no longer have grandiose visions for my funeral. mainly because it’s not something I think about today. My imagination is busy elsewhere. I don’t obsess over who will show up or who won’t. Who will predictably be under dressed and who stays for the luncheon after. Thankfully today I’m too busy living to put much thought in what I hope to be remembered for. I spend my days in a way I can let my actions leave behind a legacy I’m happy with.