Today I stopped by the cemetery on my way home to Baltimore to visit a dear friend. I’d spent the weekend celebrating his life with his friends and family members, working to replenish a scholarship fund our high school created in his name when he was killed in Afghanistan three years ago.
Per usual, I walked through the section, reading the headstones of Nick’s permanent neighbors. I stopped a few rows away and one of the phrases caught my eye. In the spaces where families typically declare each person a “loving grandfather” or joke that the deceased airman would “rather be flying,” or in Nick’s case, where it says “Actions not words matter,” someone had simply written “someone wonderful.”
I pictured the loved one of this individual, overcome with grief at the loss of their husband/father/brother, just wanted passers-by to know that this particular patch of earth contained someone wonderful.
This humble tribute has turned into my new mission statement - live my life so I’m remembered as someone wonderful.