Can you believe we just got back (to a messy house and dear friends who stayed as guests), and now in less than a week we’re off again?
My dad and his wife just arrived today so we have decided to go to Normandy and visit Mont St Michel, and then to all the World War II beaches, complete with museums about D-Day. My grandfather fought in the war and was a history professor, and my father and his two brothers are huge history buffs. So this trip is right up his alley. (Plus, we plan to eat well).
We booked a luxury hotel and paid for it in advance months ago, so we needed only go and enjoy the trip. But then on Tuesday we received an e-mail asking how we had enjoyed our stay, which was how I discovered that I had booked it for the wrong weekend. So I spent an entire day trying to create a new emergency itinerary with hotel bookings paid for during peak season. And then I went over to the window and threw large wads of cash into the gutter because apparently that’s what I like to do.
Sir and I have been catching up on pop culture by watching “How I Met Your Mother” on DVD. We’re currently on Season Three. Canned laughter aside, it’s mildly entertaining, even though last we checked, the show had already fizzled out to a grizzly end.
And just like it’s forerunner Grey’s Anatomy, the most lovable character of the show is not destined to be its star. In this case, it’s Barney – the annoyingly shallow, deeply vulnerable, always funny sidekick played by Neil Patrick Harris, who steals the show. I’m seeing his absolutely legen (wait for it …) dary quotes tweeted and replicated everywhere.
Somewhat beside the point is that what he considers to be legendary, I find to be a bit pathetic and meaningless as it usually involves scoring women and hooking up. And I should certainly hope that as a staid and true (and married) lady of a certain age, hooking up would hold no interest for me. (It doesn’t. Happily).
No, for me, my quest for all things legendary is of infinite more value than that of Barney’s. My quest – my true life’s ambition, my destiny marked out for me before I was even born – is (wait for it) to become a superstar in the blogging world.
Oh yeah I did.
(That’s what Barney would say).
Well, at least it seems good to me since I never got my big break in acting. And I’m not sure I’m good at anything else. So to that end, I chase the kids out of the room and I put my life on a shelf and I throw bones of attention (contention?) at poor Sir through gritted teeth as I struggle to get the perfect post out. I strive for something legendary.
Okay, I’m exaggerating just a little. I blog because it’s still loads of fun for me to do. But I must confess that I actually do hope to create something that will be recognized as worthy – great even. I want to be remembered after I’m gone and so I do it in my own way, writing and sharing about my life.
But if you really think about it, the amount of people who have actually left behind something legendary is a needle in a haystack compared to how many people who have ever lived. A few come to mind in no particular order (and here you’ll get an inkling of my interests as this is somewhat subjective): Caesar, Socrates, Dickens, Austen, Kennedy, Rachmaninoff, Monet, Mozart, Van Gogh, Lincoln, Roosevelt, Michael Jackson … the list goes on, but not for very long. It doesn’t take much before you start on the names that not everyone can recognize. And then they become a legend to few.
I may speak for myself, but honestly, realistically, the chances of you or I being on that list is slim. Quite slim. We might achieve fleeting fame (even winning best overall blog or whatever other prestigious award we strive for in our field of interest), but it really is short-lived. Once we’re out of the public eye, they’ve already moved on to something else and we’ll be forgotten. Just take a look at what some of the stars do to stay in the public eye. It is a universal fear that no one will really remember us when we’re gone.
But the solution to that fear, my friends, is in our relationships. It is here that we leave behind something … if not legendary, then at least cherished.
It is …
* fitting another piece in the puzzle that is my son, just by listening and answering gently instead of having more important things to do…
* exchanging tired grins with my husband over spilled milk (or wads of cash) because it really is a small worry in the grand scheme of things …
* crying with a friend when she shares her story of the abuse she endured as a child (while you quietly swear to protect your own children) …
* laughing over wisecracks with a group of people, where you are heard – not because you are funny – but because you are friends…
* breathing in deeply the scent of your newborn, your toddler, your 4 year old, your 5 year old, your 7 year old, your …
* madly whipping up a batch of brownies for last minute guests because you know they love it and you always want people to feel cherished when they come over.
It is here that we become a legend to the few that matter.
But if you keep working on that next masterpiece that will reveal your “true genius inside” while pushing off life and love and relationships in your quest, you might end up not creating anything legendary.
You might just end up waiting for it.
Becoming legend to the few that matter.
I love that phrase. I hope I can accomplish that in my life.
Yes me too. Let me not forget to enjoy the small things and love in the small ways that count.
I see your true genius 🙂
You sweet thing! 🙂
Live your life in whatever form makes you happy and is necessary. Most legends didn’t become so until after they passed away. So there is always still that chance . . .
Hey! I never thought of that. But I think – hope – that I will be remembered for how I loved, not for what I did.
This post gave me so much to think about.
I remember in one of her movies, Bette Davis said, “The only way you can become a legend is in your coffin.” That’s not too appealing so my plan is to do the best I can with what I’ve been given. 🙂
I hope that you enjoy your trip to Normandy even with the mix up in your reservations. I would like to go there someday and see the D-Day sites.
Yeah, definitely much more appealing to savor life on a small scale than to make it big when you’re dead.
I too used to struggle with wanting to be legendary, now I strive for feeling full, full of feelings (good and bad), full of the sounds of my children, the love of my husband, the voices of my friends, the taste of a soft stinky cheese, the smell of bread…..
It’s very hard for me to feel anything, much less the bad. I am trying to work on that.
Now stinky cheese I can provide for you on the 5th!
I see your true genius in every.single.post you write! And I bet your family does too!
And Normandy?! I would LOVE to go there! My husband’s grandfather was at the 2nd wave of Normandy during the invasion & survived! AMAZING!
You are a darling – thank you.
For Normandy, all I can say is, you must come with your family. (And contact me when you do!) 🙂
Your list of Things Cherished is enviable and one to which I can relate (besides perhaps the brownies…but I would instead spend time selecting just the right bottle of wine to share with dear visitors. I simply cannot bake!)
Still, your place here is on the short list of blogs that, to me, is indescribably special. I know having me for a fan may seem faint praise, but I do think you are simply wonderful.
And I know you are loved.
And I hope that you all do indeed eat well and are moved by the trip to Normandy. I look forward to reading about your travels.
(I am fascinated by such sites – haunted, even. Not in a bad way. In a legendary way.)
So cheers to legends.
And to being cherished.
Always.
No, having you for a fan is high praise indeed because I love your blog too. So we’re mutual fans!! 😉
Plus, I have to say, your comments are as good as your posts!
Oh, I just loved this, Jennie. But then, you knew I would.
It’s because we’re soul sistas.
I love this line: It is here that we become a legend to the few that matter.
Thanks dearie. I have to see if your sequel is out.
Now I just want to go sniff my napping baby. Because that sweet smell is legendary indeed! And all too fleeting. Sigh.
PS: I heart NPH.
Yes he’s a cutie. Of anyone I think he’ll go on to make it big.
I choose to think we are remembered for how we cared for others and the kindness we put out into the world. At least I hope that is the case! I loved this post, and must tell you I think How I Met Your Mother… is still going strong here!
PS Following you now, can’t believe I wasn’t before??
Ohhh, sorry about the reservation. I did that too, once. Now I check and re-check the dates.
The thing about legends is that they don’t spend a lot of time with family. They’re spread way too thin. I like the idea of being legendary to only those who really matter.