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| 48th Annual Literary Contest Award Ceremony. |
When
somebody dies and you attend their funeral, you always take home the little
piece of hard paper folded in half. On the front you find a religious image;
inside you find a message—usually a prayer for the deceased. I
still keep my grandfather’s, and, even though he died 6 years ago, I can still remember the words. One piece in particular said: “He left, but he has taken with him our love . . . and the memories of the moments shared . . . But also . . . he has left us the precious present of having known and loved him”. These words resonated in my head after the
The ceremony was sponsored by the
English Department of the General Studies College of the University of Puerto
Rico, Río Piedras Campus. Two girls from my English class had won a price, and
it was great to go show some support. However, this was not what primarily
caught my attention. The ceremony was dedicated to honoring the life of a
deceased professor of said department. His name? Mark Wekander.
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| Photo of Mark Wekander featured in the ceremony's Power Point presentation. |
I did not know the professor, but it
was incredibly moving to see his coworkers, the other faculty members of the
department, remember his legacy. His latest poems—published posthumously—were
read by students and analyzed by a professor from the department. Additionally,
various professors, as coworkers and friends, shared wonderful memories of
Mark.
Not only did Mark Wekander leave a written legacy; he
also left a human legacy, much like my grandfather did. This last legacy is his
most greatest achievement. Although I never knew him while he lived, I an
honestly say I admire Mark Wekander. He is the expression of what I hope for in
my life: to be remembered with love.
When my time comes, I want to have left a legacy. I don’t
want my life to be meaningless; I wish for more. I wish for greatness—whatever type
that might be. I want to be remembered as Mark Wekander was: a successful
person; a loved person; someone that leaves behind the present of being known
and loved. When I die, don’t cry on my grave. Instead, talk about the memories
we shared for they will forever live in your heart as Mark Wekander’s.
That last paragraph... I live by those words. My biggest fear is to be completely replaceable, to be one more. I don't know if this is normal or not but often times I think about my funeral, who will attend, what will they be talking about will it just be my family members or will it be a whole town. Will they put the music I like or some sad music? But then I also think about the memories the people will have about my funeral and I go on and on and on.
ReplyDeleteYou are not weird; I completely relate. I think about how my life will be reflected on the day of my funeral. The question that haunts me the most: What will people remember about me? I don't know the answer, but I know that I want it to be something remarkable; for this, I work hard everyday
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