How to live forever

:(

One day, we will all be dead.

I have an ancestor who made it into the local newspaper for climbing a mountain and then falling down it.

And then climbing it again.

And falling down a second time.

It reminds me a bit of my journey in crypto, lmao.

But it got me thinking. This person from a few generations back had a whole life, decades' worth of thoughts, learnings, feelings, emotions, and experiences.

And all I know about her is that she wasn’t very good at climbing mountains.

I’d imagine every family has someone like this in their history—the oddball that they only know about because their story was weird enough to be told at family gatherings, and that soundbite got passed down through the generations.

But what about all the family members who had more normal lives?

There is a huge amount of wisdom and experience hidden within even the most mundane-looking life.

Most people who have existed have experienced some kind of heartbreak, immense joy, true love, the feeling you get when you see your child walk for the first time. The stresses of work and relationship troubles, and, sadly, of dealing with the death of someone they love.

I think there would be some comfort in reading about your ancestors' most important moments.

Even if the achievements aren’t big enough to make the local news.

Wouldn’t it be interesting to ask your great-great-grandad how he felt when he learned the war had ended?

Like, I know he was in a war, but I have no idea how he felt during or after it.

Wouldn’t it be great to learn from their mistakes?

I remember seeing a video of my grandfather holding me as a baby. He died when I was five, so I don’t really have any real memory of him. But it made me immensely sad that I didn’t know more about his life.

And then when I had a child of my own, I saw my dad doing the same thing with my baby. You see the pure joy in his face as he holds this tiny human in his arms.

And then it hit me that maybe my daughter, when she’s my age, won’t know much about her grandfather either.

And then I got really sad.

So, in some weird, possibly creepy, maybe dystopian way, this is why I try to write stuff down on the internet.

So one day, maybe for a brief moment, someone will get that weird feeling of regret that they don’t know me very well.

But because there will be this random history of articles I've written on the internet, they can still get to know the real me, even long after I’m gone.

I mean, they’d probably get three paragraphs in and get distracted by TikTok or something, but still, they might briefly take some comfort in it for a few moments.

But anyway, I guess I’m writing this as a call to action for myself, but also for others.

If you’re lucky enough to still have your parents in your life, encourage them to write. Take photos. Record videos. Ask them questions, even about the most mundane things, and record them somewhere.

The days are long, but the years are short.

One day, you may have a question, but you cannot get the answer.