Sorry, you can't take it with you.
Not for lack of trying! The Pharaohs were buried with everything that could possibly make their afterlife comfortable. Ancient Chinese Emperors would take an entire army along, presumably, so that they would yield the same power after death as they had yielded during their lifetime. Even ordinary people were often buried with favorite objects or even pets to keep them company "after they were gone". In some parts of India, wives were sacrificed when their husbands died. Up to their last gasping breath, people still attempt to control their destiny and other people with the real or imagined power of their possessions.
It's not uncommon that parents still attempt to control their children's lives by means of their wealth - even if that wealth is modest. The power play between the haves and the have-nots is endless, relentless and takes no prisoners.
Guess what folks? You can't take it with you. Or, as my mom often says, "shrouds have no pockets". All those things that are of the living, stay with the living. The only coin that may hold any value once that final threshhold is crossed is the love, generosity and integrity with which you lived your life, and with which you paid those around you. Even if you don't believe in an afterlife, those qualities are the ones that will be remembered by those you leave behind.
Aye, there is the rub! Like it or not, we will all go someday. Life is ephemeral, perhaps only a dream we must all wake up from eventually, and like the shadows of a dream, eveything accomplished while living dissipates once the dream-life is over. All that is left, are the feelings we nurtured in others duing that short period. They could be feelings of love, gratitude, awe and grandeur, or they may be feelings of bitterness, anger, hate and misery. And because we are complex beings, these feelings may be of both, different for every aspect of our lives.
And guess what? Once one or two generations after us are gone as well, even those feelings will be forgotten and we will end up as perhaps a name in a dusty, old family album, or at best, another boring name to remember in the history books.
The dream of life is potent, addicting, exciting and we try to hold on to it with all our strength but it is, after all, only a dream. And you, old man, with your fading memory and all the quirks and eccentricities of your personality finally becoming dominant in your old age... YOU, old man who still wants to believe that the world revolves around you... you, OLD MAN who has forgotten that you must live your final years with dignity and affection, YOU will be dust sooner than you think with nothing left behind but the bitter taste of your name in the mouths of those you taunted when you should have embraced them.
I hope you wake up in a better place.
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1 comment:
I hope the old man that worries you will be better before he dies.
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