This is going to be a little different; if you’re not interested, then skip this post.
Back in January, when I was cleaning out my condo and getting rid of all my “stuff,” I found an old edition of the Washington Post. This was strange in itself as I’ve never had a subscription, and I never really read newspapers even before they were all available online. There was nothing particularly noteworthy on the front page. Why had I saved this?
Then I looked at the date: May 16, 2012. Suddenly I knew exactly what it was. I’d saved my Dad’s obituary. My dad passed away ten years ago today. His obituary was apparently published almost two weeks later. I have a vague recollection from ten years ago of being asked to read through something before it was sent to the newspaper. But I clearly never read it in this newspaper; the paper had never been opened and I had to search for the obituary section.
I read through it when I found it in January. For as long as it is, eleven paragraphs, all but four short paragraphs discuss his career and professional accomplishments. And they were many; my father was a dedicated public servant who did some amazing things in his professional life. I’m very proud of all that he accomplished.
But it strikes me as lacking that his career and education are the bulk of what is included in his obit. There’s no mention of his love of travel or baseball or sailing or photography. His ability to make friends easily and keep those friendships strong for 40+ years. I think those things are so much more important and are what really defined him. Those are the things I remember. So why is that not the stuff obituaries are made of?
I’m not trying to be morbid, but it made me think about how, someday–a long way away– I will be remembered. What will my obit say? I’m reminded of the Henry David Thoreau quote from Walden that’s read out in Dead Poet’s Society ‘I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately…to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..to put to rout all that was not life…and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.’ (I sold that DVD so my quote may be off, but that’s what I remember of it.)
I can only hope that when my time comes, my obituary demonstrates that I was more than my job. Because we are all so much more than our jobs! It’s the same problem as when you meet someone new and they ask what you do. Maybe it’s just to get to know you, maybe it’s just small talk, or maybe it’s their way of assessing if you’re worth their time. Or when you’re introducing yourself to a group and have to give your name and tell a little about yourself, and you immediately start talking about your career. We spend so much of our lives at work that it becomes how we define ourselves.
Since I started traveling, when asked what I do, I tell people I travel and take pictures. The fact that I have a law degree is so irrelevant to my current lifestyle, why even bring it up? It’s not how I define myself. It’s not an essential fact of who I am. So I don’t want it to be the thing people remember about me.