"...Like Tears In Rain..."

Photo Credit: Ian Dick

The other day, I stumbled across a Reddit discussion where someone asked the question: “Everyone sees the world in a different way; so when someone dies, it is - in a way - the death of an entire world. So, Reddit…what unique world will die with you?”

As with all things reddit, there were a myriad of responses, but one of them was from a person who’d created an imaginary world - 4 books worth of content and characters in his/her notebooks and sketchbooks - and was working on getting it out, commenting:

“I saw a post the other day about someone who published their late dad’s book because he was too afraid to do it himself. That scared the shit out of me. I don’t want to die and for my entire fake world to disappear. Even if it sucks, I want it to live on.”  

I felt something immediate and real and visceral when I read that. A sense of dreams as yet unfulfilled, of important and meaningful ideas that we never take to fruition, of more and different lives still to be lived.

I’ve always felt that there’s nothing worse in life than regret. The actual win or loss from the doing of the thing is meaningful, of course, but it’s more important to have tried and taken the chance(s). (Because I think there is still success to be had if you’ve taken the chance, so long as we define it on our own terms.)

But I’ve also, at the same time, been struck by the fact that we live these lives and accumulate these memories and experiences and, when it’s all said and done, they go with us. 

We do leave some things behind - in our children and the values we instill in them, in our work, in our relationships - and those are important. That’s our tangible legacy, I suppose.

But there are so many other things - little encounters and experiences, a vivid memory, a smell or taste that evokes particular emotions - that cannot be shared with anyone, no matter how close. Things that cannot be passed on and, so, they go with us.

I know, I know. That’s just how it is. That’s how things are and perhaps how they should be. But I do wish there was a way to save those, and share them and let others remember them. Then again, of course, others have their own ideas and smells and tastes and memories as well. The things that make us unique and who we are.

Perhaps, our best answer is to document them and I suppose that’s a bit of what I’m trying to do here. Perhaps we need to tell more stories. And perhaps we just need to keep trying new things and sharing those experiences with those we love.

Despite that, that journey, that effort, will never be complete and that there are some things that we will be taking with us. And, maybe that’s ok. Maybe I just need to recognize that perhaps I haven’t come to terms with the idea that that happens and is normal. That we move on and leave with what’s within us.

It reminds me of that final scene in Blade Runner, when Batty (Rutger Hauer), having just saved Deckard (Harrison Ford), delivers that amazing soliloquy, essentially explaining what it means to be human:   

”I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”