I have often thought about my funeral. Will I be in a barong or a tux? Or will I just be cremated? Who would be there? Will they be there for me, or to see people who are also there? Will they be happy or sad that I am gone? What will they remember about me?
I have put on a number of hats in my six years of professional life – my life after college. I have been an attentive alumnus of my collegiate organization, always present in events as I was doing graduate school. I have been a leader in church; amidst internal weaknesses, my strong words and disposition outwardly express my leadership. I have also been a contractual employee, the kind that reaped no benefits for governmental services. I recently became a scientist, finally earning my Master’s Degree after four years of striving under scholarship. Yet, in these roles, I do not have the confidence that I have filled a certain hole in society; I do not feel indispensable. I am uncertain that I would leave a mark in the organizations and institutions I have been a member of.
The graphic fetured above entitled, “Heroes never really die,” from thisisindexed summarizes my point: One can be in history books. A hero’s memory does not fade away.
It may be the primary reason I want a publication out of my thesis. It may be a reason for my pursuit of a title to end my name. I did not want to stand out in my youth; I just wanted to blend into the crowd. Subconsciously, however, I would have liked to imprint my name in human history and be looked upon by people as one of the few who will be missed; I now want to leave a legacy.
What legacy would I leave? I could not identify much right now, and there lies the problem. Would there be impact if I was gone?