Destined to Be Forgotten

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Abstract

value what no one needs. We want others to understand what can’t be understood, who we were by what we have, by what we collected.</p><p id="3603">I trade it all now for the minutes of today, my head old but my eyes opening each day as if I was four again, everything yet to be explored, giggles and screams at the touch of those who want nothing but my love. I intend to leave nothing but the softness of my voice as I tell my daughter I love her, nothing but a final whisper to a woman who believed I could be more than I was, nothing but notes to friends who traveled the hard roads of life with me, nothing but memories of a man who walked amongst the many, but as it is meant to be, one destined to be a photo on a shelf no one remembers.</p><p id="252b">If you enjoy my work, my latest book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Used-Be-Somebody-Poetry-Those/dp/1931046107/ref=sr_1_2?crid=M8E5DNVTWZA2&keywords=thomas+plummer&qid=1691518860&sprefix=%2

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Caps%2C104&sr=8-2">I Used to Be Somebody</a>, is now out on Amazon. Thank you all for the support through my many years writing on Medium.</p><div id="4950" class="link-block"> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Used-Be-Somebody-Poetry-Those/dp/1931046107/ref=sr_1_1?crid=38LCK8ZYSKVXH&keywords=thomas+plummer&qid=1691595950&sprefix=%2Caps%2C103&sr=8-1"> <div> <div> <h2>I Used to Be Somebody: Poetry for Those Up and Over the Hill</h2> <div><h3>Aging is an adventure few are prepared for because we never believe becoming older will happen to us. One minute young…</h3></div> <div><p>www.amazon.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*yc54mINTVJAR6tVo)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

A picture on a shelf no one remembers

By BG Walker on iStock (image licensed by author)

All I know will die, so I must live. My treasures, my books, all that is me, today mine, someday nothing but piles of stuff my kids sort into old boxes, given away, sold, trash. Photos of grandparents, their memories fading by each breath I take, pictures of my dad on my bookshelf, a man my kids never met, me walking at dawn in cities of the world… invaluable to me, yet worthless, dying with me with my last breath. I can’t remember my great grandfather’s first name, yet he smiles from a picture I could never throw away, part of who I am but no longer remember.

What to take? What to leave? We hoard what no one wants. We value what no one needs. We want others to understand what can’t be understood, who we were by what we have, by what we collected.

I trade it all now for the minutes of today, my head old but my eyes opening each day as if I was four again, everything yet to be explored, giggles and screams at the touch of those who want nothing but my love. I intend to leave nothing but the softness of my voice as I tell my daughter I love her, nothing but a final whisper to a woman who believed I could be more than I was, nothing but notes to friends who traveled the hard roads of life with me, nothing but memories of a man who walked amongst the many, but as it is meant to be, one destined to be a photo on a shelf no one remembers.

If you enjoy my work, my latest book, I Used to Be Somebody, is now out on Amazon. Thank you all for the support through my many years writing on Medium.