Who Do You Want To Be Remembered As? Be That Person.

We all have traits that define who we are to those around us. Some are positive and some are negative, and the way people perceive us depends on which of those traits they see in us the most, along with their own personal filters of how they view their world.

First impressions, commonalities, prejudices, and likes/dislikes tend to influence how we see each other, and each interaction we have has the potential to reinforce, or to change how someone else feels about us. Unfortunately, positive and negative things do not always carry equal weight. Dozens of positive moments can be undone by a single negative interaction, but the reverse is not usually true. 

Additionally, once a person has made judgments about who they think we are, that impression of us can become pretty solidly cemented in their minds. I have seen this in the way family members that were with me during my growing up years still focus on weaknesses that I overcame long ago and paint me with that brush. Despite the passing of decades and change in me as a person, they are unable to let go of that perception of me. But how they remember me, is not necessarily accurate as to who I am now. That can happen in any relationship and can be caused by distance, drifting apart, misconceptions that we have about others, or the way we choose to view them. A lot of our negative feelings towards others can be overcome if we apply compassion to the lens we are looking at them through. 

For many years I have felt the weight of how temporary so much of life is. One of the few consistent things is change. Relationships evolve. Children grow up. Parents grow old. People move away or just drift apart. Accidents happen, and every day, each of us is that much closer to the end of our lives. When we find ourselves apart from our loved ones, what we have left is a distilled version of them in our minds and our hearts. We take the most important parts of who they were or are to us as we continue on. 

As I have reflected recently on love and on loss, I have been wondering about the kind of person I want to be remembered as. What would friends and family take from their experiences with me if we had to part? We all have shortcomings, and many of us are very aware of our own. But we get to choose daily the way we want to be remembered. While we can't really control how anyone else views us, we can make choices that are aligned with the kind of people we most want to be. 

Those who know me best know that I am a worrier, and somewhat of a pessimist, and while those are both qualities I carry around with me, they are not how I want to be remembered. This is not to say that I want to lie about who I am. But the choices I make shine a light on which aspects of me I am trying to embrace and which I am trying to set aside. I get to decide which parts of me I want to develop, and which to let go of. Of course there are moments of weakness. Times when the negative overcomes the positive things I am trying to nurture. Becoming is a process, and sometimes the changes we make are so small up close that we can't see the extent of them in ourselves until we step back and pay attention to their accumulation over time. For every weakness, there is the potential for strength through diligent effort.

So, how do you want to be remembered? Mean or kind? Lazy or industrious? Pessimist or optimist? Flighty or dependable? Backstabbing or trustworthy? Uninspired or creative? Faithless or loyal? Cold or compassionate?  Make a conscious choice, and do it for more than just the big, public, things. This isn't politics. It isn't about portraying yourself the way you want people to see you. It is about being authentic to who you want most to be. Who you are now is important, but who you WANT to be is more important. Be that person. One choice at a time.

One Hundred and Three Years Ago...

The most influential person in my life was born. Her name was Nora.

She was raised on a farm in Spokane, Washington, and spent at least part of her childhood living and working in the household of another family due to poverty. At the age of twenty, she married a singer named William. They were married under both his legal name and his stage name, and later, after they converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, they were sealed for time and all eternity in the Idaho Falls Temple.

Nora and William (or Bill) loved to explore the surrounding countryside on their motorcycle. When their first child was born, they got a sidecar and kept exploring. In all they had four children. Their youngest was my father.

Their household was a place of music and creativity. Bill played the violin, guitar, mandolin, banjo and ukulele, and Nora played the piano, organ, recorder, melodica and concertina and she sometimes sang along with her husband. She had a low singing voice, while Bill was a high tenor, so he often sang the higher part, while she took the lower. When my father was in high school, Nora decided to pursue her education. Her educational endeavors did not stop with a bachelors degree, and she eventually went on to complete a Masters degree in Psychology along with a degree in Nutrition. During her many years of study, she also painted oil paintings, some of which were sold, and more that were displayed in their home. Bill had a talent for carpentry and made beautiful frames for her paintings, which was another example of their unity as a couple. They collaborated on other projects as well, and they were my best example growing up of what a loving marriage is.

Nora loved language. She studied Japanese as well as Norwegian. She was an avid genealogist, and the latter helped her in tracing Bill's genealogy, much of which was found in books that were only written in Norwegian. I remember her saying "Velbekommen" before meals would start, which was our signal that we could begin eating and translates to "enjoy your meal". She loved travelling and other cultures, and she also loved animals and nature.

Later in life, she had some serious health problems, but I can remember her taking us on walks in the hills around their neighborhood, refusing to let pain keep her down. In some ways she was a stern, tough woman. She was quick with a reminder to sit up straight at the dinner table, and as children, we knew not to mess with her. But I never felt fear of her, and I only felt special and loved when I was around her. Grandma's house was a constant in my childhood, and Grandma's love was something that I never doubted. Her house was my favorite place growing up. It was fire engine red, with crescent moon shutters, and was a place of magic to me. It was full of paintings, musical instruments, books, safety, and love. My family moved every few years in my early childhood, and I never dream of the homes we lived in, but I revisit Grandma's house in my dreams. A couple of weeks ago I got an unexpected opportunity to pass by the house, and even though it is no longer red and the moon shutters are long gone, it still made me tear up to see it, and my mind was flooded with happy memories.

Grandma passed away when I was 14 years old. It is a little bit unbelievable to me that I have had to spend more than 2/3 of my life without her. But when it comes down to it, I have never really been without her. She remains a constant in my life. I think of her frequently. Her examples taught me perseverance, overcoming trials, dedication to my marriage and to my religion, a love for music, for creativity, and the beauties of nature, that it is never too late to learn, and that learning should be a lifelong pursuit. My dream is to be as well rounded and wonderful a person as she was, and to help others feel loved the way she made me feel that I was loved. Even though I have not seen her with my physical eyes for 31 years, I feel her influence in my life daily, and every so often, I dream that I am sitting across from Grandma, just talking to her. I can never remember what we talked about when I wake up, but I always remember the feeling of love, and I like to think that I got to spend a little bit of time with her, despite the separation that her death has brought to us.

I know she was not perfect. Nobody is. She had flaws just like everyone else. But if I can be half the person she was, I think I will be on the right track.