Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
I suspect I've already left my impact in a half century of radio broadcasting. Whenever I thought my job was meaningless I'd realize that if just one person smiled and felt better because I played one record, I'd done something good. Now I impact the lawn when it needs mowing.
A little late for that. I hope I have made an impact on my children and grandchildren.
ReplyDeleteThat's my desire also. I just hope the impact I've left them is a promising one.
DeleteI would just like those who survive me, to smile when they think of me.
ReplyDeleteMe Too! And I hope that the ones that I don't get to meet we'll hear about me.
DeleteNone. I hope to leave a memory of kindness.
ReplyDeleteThere is not a question in my mind but what you will do just that.
DeleteI believe you can probably say that Sandee.
ReplyDeleteI just would like family and other people to remember me as a good person.
ReplyDeleteDesign one building that will stand the test of time!
ReplyDeleteI suspect I've already left my impact in a half century of radio broadcasting. Whenever I thought my job was meaningless I'd realize that if just one person smiled and felt better because I played one record, I'd done something good. Now I impact the lawn when it needs mowing.
ReplyDelete