[image is of Haley and her puppy, Lily]
[plucky music plays in the background, looping as our host speaks]
Haley: How will you be remembered? Big question, I know. If you’re listening to this, chances are you’re freshly in your twenties or about to be in your twenties. You probably haven’t really thought about it yet. Me, I’m only nineteen, but I think about it all the time. It’s not always related to death, although I’m sure that’s where your head goes. It’s more about the ending of something. When I’m spending time with my friends or family, I find myself wondering: Will this be the last thing I say to you? Before I fall asleep at night I wonder: Will this be the last thing I do? The answer is never clear. But I conclude each instance trying to give some semblance of a happy ending, make it a moment that I can look back on without regrets. Because what if something happened? What if that really was the end?
[beat]
Haley cont: In the beloved sitcom How I Met Your Mother, we watch as Marshall grapples with the sudden death of his father, trying to find closure in the supposed last words his dad said to him. There are a few instances of what that final thing might be. None of them are meaningful in the way that he wants them to be, something that he struggles with, especially after his family shares their picturesque, almost poetic final moments. It feels cruel to have “Rent Crocodile Dundee 3“ be those last words for him. But Marshall has a choice. You see, his dad left him a voicemail on his phone. One which he, of course, simply has to listen to. But when he goes to listen to it his discovers something. The message was a pocket dial.
[beat]
Haley cont: When it came to summing myself up in of these bios, I began thinking about all of the possibilities. I could talk about this, but how would that sound? Is this idea even good enough? What would they think of that? I don’t want to be forgotten. But I don’t know if I wanted to be remembered either.
Not for a single instance anyway. We’re all so much more than that, aren’t we?
When I was younger, I used to live more freely. I’ve been a creative my whole life, but I was much more open then. I would share my work with anyone who would listen, in fact, I would go out of my way to find people to share things with, even if they weren’t the most enthused about it… It was such a huge part of me. In some ways it still is. Only now, I’m so concerned with what I put out there, the way it’ll impact people, the way it’ll be tied to me.
I place so much emphasis on the importance of the end that I try to curate the way that I’ll remember things. When I reflect on today, ten, fifteen years from now, will this be what I think about? Isn’t there something else, something worth remembering?
Someone smarter than me once said that I’m trying to live in the future. It’s true. I worry so much about the permanence of things that I hesitate to do anything at all.
While listening to the static of his father’s message, Marshall grows more and more upset with the world around him. Why bother giving him hope? How could this be the end? But then, the phone is picked up and his father speaks to him for the last time. The words change. The memory shifts. The final thing his dad truly said to him was “I Love You”.
That’s why people say that, at the end of phone calls, isn’t it? So that it’ll always be the ending.
But we don’t always get a voicemail. We don’t always get the chance to choose what the ending will be. As much as I try to, it’s completely out of my control. What you take away, what you think of, it’s not up to me to decide. This might be the only time you hear from me. What will you remember? Will you remember me at all? I don’t know.
[beat]
This episode was hosted, written, edited, and produced by Haley Seitz. Backing music is Theme in G by Podington Bear from the Free Music Archive and is used under CC BY-NC. For any questions or further information please visit our website me-us-uorg.
[music continues briefly, then stops.]