The Joy of Being Forgotten
When I die, I will be returned to my Mother, body and soul. I will become part of everything else that is and once was, ever present and completely absent.
There will be those who remember me, but they will meet the same fate. One day, there won't be anyone left to remember me. My name won't carry any weight, my accomplishments will go unacknowledged, and everything about me will be completely gone. That gives me such a powerful sense of relief.
This idea seems to terrify people, and those such people are perplexed as to why this idea is so comforting to me. They are saddened by the idea of being forgotten. They want to be remembered.
Being remembered sounds nice of course, but I don’t need it. As long as the memory of me brings joy and lessons to those I love until their own times come, my life will have served one of its purposes.
My decaying body and vibrant spirit will be smiling as I become part of Mother again. Until then, I must treat this life like the gift it is, and wait patiently until my time to be forgotten comes.















