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We have always been obsessed with last words, the final utterances of the human mind right before death. Some have religious significance, such as Jesus saying "It is finished" from the cross. (In the original Greek it is "Tetelestai," a legal term which translates more accurately into "Paid in full.")
Julius Caesar looked at one of his murderers and said, "Et tu, Brute?" ("And you, Brutus?") while Oscar Wilde's last coherent words were a bit more droll, looking around his deathbed and saying, "This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. Either it goes or I do."
In fiction, the movie Citizen Kane begins with the ending, Charles Foster Kane, snow globe falling to the floor, whispers "Rosebud." An hour and 53 minutes later, the audience's final words were, "That's it?!?"
Today, the final words for you and I might be remembered differently by different people. They are more likely to remember you by the last text you sent them on their phone. My wife texts me every day before heading home from her place of business. She's not a big or prolific texter, so the phrase "Leaving now" would certainly be devoid of emotion but filled with accuracy.
As I thought on this subject, I checked the last messages I had sent to my four children. Tuesday night after a good thrashing at the hands of Cincinnati, I texted my youngest, "The Mets suck." Accurate, but not necessarily what one wants to leave as a legacy.
This is graduation week, and we were texting again last night, talking about various and sundry things leading up to the big event Monday morning. With the above in mind, I made a conscious effort to end. "I love you. Proud as hell, too."
I am going to try to develop that into a habit.
Discussion (17)
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My final txt will likely be "FYI - I'm leaving the office now."
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Well done - I think you’re right. Much like saying good night to family. Loveyoubest is a family classic when tucking in children. When leaving grandchildren we always say See you soon. Loveyoubye.
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Egad, this is a morbid thread.
Many years ago a friend who was preparing for a career as an air traffic controller said that his class spent hours listening to cockpit voice recorder tapes from crashes. On every single one of them, the last words were, "Aw, [REDACTED]." Not screaming, not even spoken with any kind of passion. Just resignation. The overwhelming knowledge that this was it, and there was nothing more they could do about it. Pilots are accustomed to being able to do something about any given situation; in the old days they could control a plane by grabbing handfuls of wires and pulling them. They are supremely self-confident. They have to be, since so many lives are riding on their skills. When faced with the end, they are contemplating the fact that, as good as they are, they can't fly out of this one. So you hear a resigned "Aw, [REDACTED]." Then silence.
If I happen to realize what's happening when the time comes, I suspect I will say the same. So I'd prefer that no one try to memorialize me with my last words. I've put some thought into an epitaph but I'm not there yet.
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Hoping always that the words "I love you" are not outliers I must make an effort to remember to use towards those I do (love), in case they are my last ever, but that I liberally, randomly, and quite honestly, sprinkle them around as I go about my business through the years, and that that is what they remember about me. That I was there when it counted, and that I loved them without limits, and said so often.
As for remembering a text message as my last words, I don't think this last would be such a bad epitaph (from just a bit ago):
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Not exactly what you are talking about, but related:
My dad died a few months ago. My mom and sister and I have since heard hundreds of fun, poignant, hilarious anecdotes about him from family, friends, colleagues, and former students (he was a college professor). My main takeaway from all this (other than that he was awesome, which I already knew) is that it would be nice to say wonderful things to and about people while they are still alive. My dad would have loved to hear these stories.
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