Daily Prompt: Legacy

Path in cemetary, Solothurn

Looks nice doesn’t it? A pleasant walk on a warm afternoon in Spring and and a sightseeing tour of the lovely, the wealthy and the important, although they were here today and gone tomorrow and no-one really remembers them, except for the descendants who only visit to get out a bit in the fresh air: a good reason for a walk. It is the better part of the local cemetary where you can pick and choose a special place amongst the trees. The average dead have to make do with a regimental organisation of grave stones in nice rows with similar flower arrangements. Perhaps some pansies in spring and asters in summer, a nice mixture of heather in Winter according how much you are prepared to pay the cemetery gardener or the relation that will take the task on to do it.

Me, I don’t know. This is the rich and the lovely and I am one of the normal sorts. My place in the afterworld will not be so spectacular. Just a flat stone in a meadow with a name and date. With time the stone will fade but we live  in an organised country even in death. This means that no-one will be trampling over my stone legacy because everyone knows it is those that leave no traces behind, just a pile of ashes. The stones all look alike in a special place, but not a walking path. I do not care, that is life/death.

So there we have it and I think when it is so far it will not be my problem. What do I leave behind: about 3,000 Posts and 4-5000 disciples in the cyber world of WordPress. One day there will be no daily prompt from me, not only once but forever and it might be that people begin to talk. “Where has she gone do you think she is no longer blogging?” After a few months there is the next stage of consideration “Do you think she is ill, perhaps she has passed on to the happy blogger hunting grounds”. After a year I will be forgotten, if my blogs still exist. WordPress will realise eventually that no-one is interested in further payment for my .com sites (I have two, including my feline site) and they will cancel the .com.  Even in death the financial details play an important part. A ghostly apparition might still be floating over the grid.

There is my Facebook page and membership which may continue into infinity or not, according to to my last wishes. Of course that is also a problem, I have no last wishes. I cannot be bothered and will leave it to the survivors to decide. It is not important. My fingers have trod on a keyboard legacy and the keyboard may have passed on to the next generatio if it can be updated. If only I could be there to see what will happen, that would be fun. Perhaps I can write a blog in the after life of bloggers. I am sure I will have many followers on sky level where the golden sun never goes down or rises. Perhaps the popularity will not be measured with likes, but with little gravestone icons. Yes, it is not an end but a continuation, simply in another world.

But life/death is not just a computer life, it is a real life. What will I leave my descendents: memories perhaps, good or not so good. At each meeting they will remember my accidents, my hospital visits, my ability to use an iPhone and take photos. Yes the photos, they are a legacy, about 20,000 counting the virtual ones and the online photos and they will not fade unless someone forgets to renew my Flickr account.

As far as money is concerned, that is according to how much I use before my time comes, but my descendants will not be in a position to work out how much will be there. I will not become the Jerry Hall of the after life. I will go quietly and without ceremony and no-one will be making calculations or working out who is first in line.

So to close on a happy note, my intentions at the moment are to finish writing this blog and  see what my colleagues have written. It is nice early Spring weather, but I will not be taking a walk, too risky for my movements at the moment. I have put my legacy on one side for the time being.

Daily Prompt: Legacy

10 thoughts on “Daily Prompt: Legacy

    • I belonged for many years to a forum group based on the East End of London. It was interesting for me being where I grew up and being able to join in conversations about my home. There was a lady, and administrator, who helped to run it. I was not always her opinion and it was quite a conservative place to be, loving the queen and England and all that stuff which is not my thing. Anyhow last yeer in November she suddenly disappeared. Otherwise she reported on the board daily. We all wondered what had happened and still do. The person in charge of the forum did not really know her personally. He made a few investigations, but did not want to interfere. Today we still do not know what happened. She was a couple of years older than me, so who knows.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. There are few reasons to be remembered and many, many ways to be forgotten. I think almost all of us will be forgotten. And probably, that’s perfectly appropriate. But … our posts will linger on in cyber-space forever, except that the technology to read those cyber messages may not exist. So we’ll bounce around at the atomic level. Maybe we’ll talk to each other?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Agreed. I am probably the only one in my family branch that really does remember many of the ancestors, but only because I investigated my orgins for a couple of years and found them all somewhere. I often wish I had asked my grandparents more when they were still alive, but I was too young to bother and so it will be with my grandchildren, if I ever have any. In the meanwhile see you on the milky way in 50 years. I will be the one with the WordPress t-shirt and baseball hat.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s