Alas, poor Yorick!

I've always been a fan of the "obits" and I have a few favourite places to read them. One being the New York Times which prides itself on journalistic excellence in all facets of the newspaper, from copy writing ads, through breaking world news to the obituary column. This is not a morbid fascination, as nobody I know, least of all myself is ever likely to find themselves in the hallowed halls of the NYT obits section. What I am fascinated by, are the legacies left behind, sometimes ground breaking, sometimes inspiring, sometimes so trite as to be hilarious in context, showing some people use lives on things insignificant to 99% of the population but important enough for them to carry on, hoping to make them famous or celebrated within their own circle.

Sometimes people get to write their own obituary and the single person prose lends acuteness not gained by third person journalistic intervention. Sometimes, as is the case for very famous people, common practice for news organisations is to write the obit way before they kick the proverbial. Sometimes an obit does not do justice to the life lived.

I mention the above because in a small way, maybe in a big way, everyone is getting a chance at their own version of the NYT obit. In the past, a funeral was a place of discovery, as family and friends celebrated achievements, successes and little known insights of the person heading south that members of the audience would discuss later over a whiskey, noting their surprise that so and so had done such and such.

The legacies I find so absorbing in the NYT are today multiplied by the millions, for the millions, who will use the vast amount of personal knowledge we have of each other to hopefully flesh out lives well lived. For today everyone has the chance to be heard, to be seen, to be appreciated, sometimes celebrated by their corner of the world long before, as Shakespeare so eloquently put it, they shuffle off this mortal coil.

Maybe it's an old fashioned view that the last words said about you, show meaning, show you in the way you would have chosen yourself and show you have contributed and made a difference. Maybe the next generations won't even have funerals and instead have online gatherings, chats, forums as they discuss a life lived openly on the net. Becoming acquainted with unknown facts, uncovering truths and encountering an appreciation of people's lives is today no longer the realm of the final say, be it obits or the knees up celebratory wake.

Today the self aggrandisement common on many social platforms leaves little discovery for a later summation of life but maybe it's better we have the chance to recognise and appreciate now, rather than later, when it's too late to say something worthwhile. So every photo, every comment, every like and every posting made online becomes part of your legacy, your NYT obit and isn't it time to consider the future because your past is written everywhere. Does your online life do you justice?