“There is a strange charm in the hope of a good legacy that wonderfully reduces the sorrow people otherwise may feel for the death of their relatives and friends.”-Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
As children, my sister and I constantly argued and obsessed over which one of us would die first. As much as we fought and pulled one another’s pig-tails, we each agreed that we could not lucidly handle the other’s demise. Ultimately, we embraced, encircling each other with skinny arms, and dramatically declared to perish simultaneously to avoid further distress. Perhaps, the solution to this sibling sorrow is found within the aforementioned quote: “in the hope of a good legacy.”
I want a memorable legacy. When I die, I want to be remembered as a prolific storyteller, artist, and musician. To my age and the following generations, I bequeath thousands of wonderful words, picturesque phrases, run-on sentences and, most likely, copious contradictions. Although my accomplishments may be meager, I aspire for them to hold immense influence, even if only for my relatives and friends. I would like them to remember me as a dauntless character, commemorated for both my snarkiness and spunk (i.e. my adventurous Indiana-Jones-like spirit).
I wish to be known for embracing my embarrassments, especially my early, seemingly lesser work. Perhaps my passionate and transient merits will be appreciated as much as those that are more sophisticated. Conceivably, my process will be what gives my art and life value. I imagine those who knew me would call me eclectic and say, “She had a strange charm about her.”