Monday Morning Motivator! 26, Epitaph

So it’s Memorial day here in the states, one of those days when most people are firing up the grill, taking in a street fair, going to pay respects at a cemetery, or some combination of all of the above. And for me it’s a day to get up, scribble on 3 pages of unlined paper, take a shower and go to work. All of this because due to a series of unfortunate events I’ve been forced to take a job, which I’ve mentioned before and won’t go any further into today.

And still, since it is Memorial Day, a day of remembering those who have gone before us, it has got me to thinking about how I will be remembered, and how I would like to be remembered, and certainly “went to work on May 25th 2009” is not very far up the list of things I’d like to see chiseled into granite, assuming granite and chiseling will have anything to do with my eternal resting place. >Yaawwwnnn<

Rosebud

At any rate, I’ve just got to thinking “how the hell do I want to be remembered” and “what the hell would I put on my tombstone”, and when I’m laying on my deathbed what will my last thoughts be? What memories will I have coming to the fore? And like the most famous man in the world dying with thoughts of his childhood sled in mind, and that mysterious phrase “rosebud” rolling off of his lips, I’ve got to think that the words productivity, launch, and marketing are not going to be on the list. Neither are

• working on Sundays
• squeezing in a few quick emails before going to bed, or 
• making one last important call while…

Anyway. This seems like a good week to really get to the essence of what is important about my life, seen through the lens of an obituary (final blog post?), or an epitaph (the ultimate tweet?), or the final thoughts or final words…that sort of clarity arising from the onset of impending doom sort of thing.

One thing is for certain, it’s been a squeezy couple of weeks, which I mentioned a few days ago–way too busy and all the things that go with way too busy:

• Short temper with those I’m closest to
• Preoccupation with “things to do”
• Lack of real presence with the “beneficiaries” of my physical proximity

You never took us fishing!

Ah yes. The long suffering family. And the friends I don’t call, write visit, or have any sort of hanging out with situation since Universe knows when. And while I may exaggerate for dramatic effect, there is still a certain feeling that I’m going to Hell if I don’t change my ways…and not the hell of lyin’ and cheatin’ and stealin’ and killin’. No this would be the hell of sittin’ in front of a machine when the sun is shining outside, of being impatient and bossy and short tempered and all the things that I hated about my father when I was a young mite.

Funny thing there, in one of those “I can smile about it now but at the time it was terrible” ways. When I was 10 or 11, my father was supposed to take my brother and I fishing, and something came up and the adventure got cancelled, and then it never happened. Actually, nothing else that could remotely be imaginged to be an adventure ever happened. Ever again. And for years that was our mantra: “you never took us fishing!” yikes! What a tombstone that would make!

Epitaph

So somehow, in between all the things I gotta do, and in between taking the time to do the things that I wanna do and gotta do, and sure as hell oughtta do if I know what’s good for me, I’m gonna write something…a full-on obit or a phrase, an epitaph, that will give me something to shoot for, a rosebud in the making, something along the lines of 

Never too busy to take us fishing.

And in the midst of all that…start making it true!

How about you? How do you want to be remembered…and would you be remembered that way if you took your final taxi tomorrow?

photo by Tony the Misfit