When I die, whenever that is, those who are still around are more than welcome to remember me in almost any fashion they wish. Maybe you’ll write a song or even a blog. Maybe I’ll live on in a goofy video you pass along to a friend or perhaps through a story that is told to others. Regardless, I hope you’ll remember me fondly and know that I’ll see you on the flip side.
Can I make one request though?
Whatever you choose to do to let THE MEMORY OF ED stay alive, please don’t let me live on via a message scrawled on your car window with a bar of soap. I’ve seen this a few times in town, and as heartfelt as the gesture may be, no matter how many curly-Qs or wavy lines are drawn around the message to add extra…I don’t know…oomph…at the end of the day…..yeah.
I won’t appreciate it, I’ll tell you that right now. If anything, I’ll be in heaven making fun of you. “I made that dude laugh so hard this one time, and this is all the thanks I get? A poorly written hard-to-read message on the rear window of an ’82 Chevy Nova scrawled with a bar of Irish Spring?”
I guess I just don’t know how this got started or understand the mindset. If I’m going to pay tribute to a friend of mine, I don’t get why I’m going to rid myself of my ability to see while I’m driving in the process. How ironic would it be if, in my grand attempt to memorialize someone who’s passed, I backed over a third grader because I couldn’t see out my rear window?
I’m not trying to be cold or unfeeling. But let’s be honest. At the end of the day it’s an obituary written in soap. And nothing says “I’ll remember you forever” like an obituary written in soap.