A morbid thought: who can stand to be forgotten?

As unpleasant as it is to think about it, what do you think people would say about you after you died? How would your friends and family think of you after you are gone? We all like to think people would say good things in remembrance, but many of us can claim to know one or two people (relatives or not) that have passed on and we never think of, speak of or remember them fondly.

I’m sure if I kicked it today there are at least two or three folks that would probably be like*** “Jolly Roger died? Well, he was a jerk so I don’t feel too bad about it.”***. well, to be honest, the few folks I know who would probably say that are pretty much my enemies anyway.

Maybe I’m fortunate. My wife says she’d be devastated if I died. One of my friends here told me she’d be utterly crushed if I bit the big one. she was especially upset when i had surgery a year ago. My best friend from high school says he’d make it a point to play Pink Floyd at my wake.

I had a good friend that died about 14 years ago, and I still think of her constantly. She was really one of the best people I have ever met. She was pretty much unbelievably kind, caring and smart and the world is a bit darker without her in it. Just knowing her made me a better person. I know the world will go on when i buy the farm. I just hope that the people I leave behind can at least think a few good things about me once in awhile…but who knows…maybe I really am a jerk!

what do you think people say about you when your gone?

I’m barely noticed when I’m alive. I can’t wait to get out of this plane of existence. I really don’t give a shit if I’m remembered after I go. I have made no mark on this world, and the best I can get from most of my “friends” is the occasional acknowledgement that I have some talents they can exploit.

People will forget me after six months. And I don’t care.

My wife and children will be devastated. They will grieve me for a while, and eventually go on with their lives while remembering me with love. My friends will toast my memory (as we did when our friend Russ died), and make an effort to comfort and include my wife.

Of course, in a few months men will come sniffing after my wife. She is still quite attractive, and she will be a rich widow.

It was vaguely unsettling to find out that, financially, the most responsible thing I could do for my family is die.

Interesting thought. Years ago, I worked near a large old cemetary. Frequently, I would get a asandwich at lunch, and park in the cemetary-and eat lunch. I would read the names of the people off the headstones, and wonder if anyone remembered them-since most of these graves were from before 1900, i’d guess they were all long forgotten.
Sorry-you have to have been a great scientist, leader, or somebody important-otherwise, you are forgotten, probably within a few years of your passing.

It would be devastating to my loved ones and friends for a while. Then they would move on with life, as it should be. The world spins on.

I don’t fear death as much as I used to. It’ll happen, hopefully later than sooner, but once it does, your worries are over forever.

Or maybe not. One never knows. Maybe the next iteration of the Big Bang features shinies like magic actually working. I can wait to find out, though. A good long time thankyouverymuch.

Too late for that. Just from having read your posts on here, I will remember you and think occasionally about whatever happened to that GuanoLad guy. And I don’t even know you!

Personally, I don’t expect to die for decades to come so it’s hard to say who of the people I currently know and love will still be around to mourn me. If I died right now, I feel confident that my mom and possibly my boyfriend (who intends to marry me and have kids with me) would be very deeply impacted and most likely would never be quite the same (and likewise, I know I would remember them for the rest of my life if I end up outliving them).

You never really know what impact you have on people, especially strangers you just happen to bump into. There are a couple of patients I saw die in the emergency room that I will always remember even though my contact with them was very brief.
Even if people don’t specifically think about you, they may be impacted by your legacy for many years after your death. The matter of whether your great-grandfather was an abusive alcoholic or a loving family man makes an impact on your family for generations even if you don’t specifically recall his name or think about him personally.

Part of how people end up reacting will depend on the circumstances of your death, too. My cousin just recently died at an unusually young age. I wasn’t really all that close to him, but I was very affected by his untimely death and genuinely sad for him and his loved ones. I think I’ll end up remembering the guy a lot more than I would have if we had both gone on with our separate lives for a few more decades and he had died uneventfully at a ripe old age.
(I wish he had been that lucky. :frowning: )

My grandfather died 4 years ago and I still think about him every single day. I’m having my first baby in March and I will tell him stories about his great-grandpa and if they make a big enough impression he will tell his kids those same stories. If I can live up to the values my grandpa held, for my children and grandchildren, then I won’t have to worry about being rememebered by my family. I know I will be.

And friends? Fuck 'em. I plan on outliving all those assholes anyway :).

Are you ok? It’s hard to tell if you’re just being morbidly realistic or if you’re displaying a classic sign of depression.

As for myself, my parents would be devastated. I don’t know if they’d ever be able to recover. I’m their everything.

My friends would probably recover pretty quickly. I’d be missed but it wouldn’t be such a huge deal. A few ex-GF’s might take it pretty hard, but all in all only my parents would really suffer.

I could have typed exactly the same post except that I only have one kid, not three.

As long as my wife and kid(s) remember me, and my grandkids if I am lucky enough to eventually get some, then really, what else do I need?

The only problem with me dying NOW is that my parents would be utterly crushed. It’s not the right thing for parents to outlive their kids, and mine would be just destroyed by it. So I have to keep truckin’ for at least a few decades (although my Mom might give me a run for my money - she was only 24 when I was born, her mother’s 87 and still going, and men in my family generally croak around 65 - so I figure I need at least 30 more years to beat her to the worm food section, and even that might not be enough.)

Few will remember me when I’m gone; fewer will mourn. But in the long run, vanishingly few are more than a footnote in history anyway.

Nitpick: I only have two kids. My daughter’s birthday is two days after the birthday of the Countess von Wigglestein, if I recall your posts correctly.

I’m no hurry to die - life is very good. But eventually, it’s probably going to happen.

But, as C.S. Lewis says in one of the most heart-wrenchingly hones accounts of a death ever written (A Grief Observed) that bereavement is the natural consequence of human love. You love, you live together, then one of you dies. That’s how it works.

I remember my grandmother, probably my favorite person in my whole life. She has been dead for thirty-six years. But I will never forget her, and as I grow older I understand her better than I did when I was fourteen and she died. She lived with us for the last seven years of her life. And it only occurred to me a few years ago - my father took his mother-in-law into his house, and lived with her. And it worked. And it gives me insight into what kind of people my grandmother was and my father is. And that’s an insight I couldn’t have when I was younger, before I married and gained a mother-in-law of my own.

My grandfather, my grandmother’s husband, died when my mother was pregnant with me, so I never met him. And my grandmother rarely spoke of him. And many of the stories people told about him made him sound like a bit of a curmudgeon. But they always ended up, “Too bad you never met him - you would have liked him.” I never understood that, until my grandmother was on her death bed. And her dying words were to him 'Jack, take me home." He made such a deep impression on my grandma, who (as mentioned) was my favorite person, that when all else was gone and she was about to pass, the memory of him was the last thing she reached for.

May the souls of the faithful departed, thru the mercy of Christ, rest in peace.

My kids would mourn me, but that’s about it. I seriously sometimes wonder if anyone would show up for my funeral. This used to bother me a great deal, but then I realized that I’d be dead and beyond concerning myself about such things.

Some people are not as popular as others. But I think we are all here, trying to matter. I think that’s important–whether you succeed in doing so or not is (in a way) irrelevant. It’s the attempt that truly matters.

Off for more wine…

I’m fine, thanks. Keeping busy and making the most of what I’ve got.

I am indeed just being a realist. My comments are based on an analysis of my past life up to this point, rather than any pessimistic or depressive view of my present and future.

When I watch people walk by me on a given day, I realise I’ve never seen these people before, and never will see them again. The population of the world is so huge, that my little part in it, currently insignificant and not worth mentioning, is hardly unique and not anything that will cause me to be remembered.

People say life is a wonderful experience and they will fight to survive in it as long as they can. But I haven’t found that to be the case, so when it’s over for me (hopefully naturally) I won’t miss it.

Considering the mental, emotional, and physical toll it has taken me to accomplish anything memorable in this rat maze of a world, yeah, I’m all right being forgotten.

I think almost everybody I ever knew thinks I’m already dead. Only my husband, my mother, and 2 of 3 siblings would even notice my passing, and for all but my husband it would be not such a big deal, a minor sadness like you feel when you find out your first grade teacher has died. (My mother would find some way to blame me for it, though.)

My husband would be heartbroken for a while. I’d hope he’d get over it and find himself someone good to share his life with.

On the brighter side, my dogs would be lost without me.

I touch the future.
I teach.

My girlfriend would miss me terribly, but she also expects me to outlive her. My siblings and a few friends would miss me. My only chance to be remembered beyond a few years is to write something people not yet born might still enjoy.

I know my Dad would be devastated if I die before him. Beyond that, well, my closest friend just moved 350 miles away, my next closest friends are 1,700 miles away, and it gets worse from there. The closest people I’m actually friends with at all are about 40 miles away, and I know all of them through the ones who just moved 350 miles from here, and really only socialized with most of the rest of them through those people.

In other words, I’d likely be more missed online (hard to believe, isn’t it?) than offline.


Sometimes life is supposed to be like that. It’s what keeps me waking up every morning.

Certain friends would grieve. Other than that, no.

I haven’t made much of an impact on the world: no girlfriend, no spouse, no kids, no pets, no mind-expanding pieces of artwork or important books or anything like that even. I’ve been involved in a few big things, but they were always someone else’s, and that’s how they’ll be remembered.

Most of my family is dead already; my sister isn’t, but we only maintain cordial but distant relations, and I don’t think she’s miss me that much. My father is alive, but doesn’t remember much. It’s strange. I think I was too ripped up by the deaths of my other sister and my mother, that it turned me away from sociability and a place in the social order, which was always something I had to work extra-hard to achieve anyways.

Maybe I should get off my butt and start working on that book again.

I think we are getting to the point where, assuming there’s no immorality available, there is a good probablity no one will show up to funerals in the future… of course we wouldn’t know. :eek: :frowning: