All we leave is a memory

The subject of immortality has tantalized imaginations for, well, ever. Perhaps the thought of living forever is appealing because we really don’t know what will happen when we die. There is a lot of speculation and debate about that but this post isn’t about all that fuss. No, this post is another gentle reminder. This post is about the only sure way we can live after death. And that one way is as a memory for other people.

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The Lost Art of the Letter

I am by far much more of a fiction reader. It seems my attention span grows and I read much quicker. However, I also like to learn so I have come up with a fiction-nonfiction schedule. Part of my nonfiction reads include biographies. I like to learn about people who are only names to me. Their interests, their weaknesses, their lives. One of the tools most biographers use to peek into the souls of yesterday is through letters. Letters written by and to the person. It seems we can learn a lot – or as much as we can anyway – from their correspondence. This all got me thinking, how will the future generation learn anything from us?

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Be nice for the sake of being nice

Years ago, I had a journey of self-discovery. At the end (or I should say middle because that’s an ongoing road), I slapped some labels on myself. At first, I found the labels to be a comfort. There was a reason why I acted the way I did. In the words of Jessica Rabbit, “I’m just drawn that way.” In my elation for explanation I overshared my conclusions. But over time, I have grown quiet about my labels. Not because I am ashamed, but because of the reaction I have learned comes from finding out what makes me tick.

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What I want this year

Let me start off by saying, gifts – receiving and giving is my love language. A sincere gift is how I express love and receiving a thoughtful gift is how I feel loved. I love opening presents. I love watching others open presents. So, that should make what I’m about to share even more powerful. I don’t want anything this year for Christmas.

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