On my last day in Savannah, I made it a point to visit the historical Bonaventure cemetery. Amidst its vast and ornate grounds lie historical figures, musicians, and everyday people alike. Their final resting places adorned with flowers, crosses, and epitaphs honoring their lives and memories in a few short words.
Amongst these ruins was the grave of little Gracie Watson. A six year old girl who died far too young, memorialized in stone, and is still remembered over a hundred years past. And this got me thinking, “how did i want to be remembered?”
There was a time when my identity and self-worth were tied into my career, self image, achievements and accomplishments. And i’m happy that time has long since passed.
Now, years have passed and I have changed. And as my time grows lean, i think differently. I want to be remembered as someone who ran after his dreams. who helped other people. and who inspired you to follow your own path.
Someone who wasn’t afraid to struggle. Who always tried to do the right thing. Who left the world better than he found it. And who stood up for what he believed in.
Someone you could count on. And who exceeded his potential, whether through hard work, sheer luck, or simply the foolishness to push on despite the obstacles or odds.
And someone who changed. Who became better over time. And who made you laugh. Someone who, when you thought of them, made you smile ✨
Walking through that cemetery, O was asked what i want written on my grave, and i said,
“Here lies Ethan Wall, who courageously died while trying saving an orphanage from the wreckage of a sinking battleship.”
And then, I paused for a moment, took the question seriously, and said that I wanted anyone who walked up to my gravestone to look down to read:
“I miss you too.”
I guess, in the end, we all just want to be remembered.