Sometimes I wonder what I'll be remembered for, if I'm remembered at all. Last week I received a message on Facebook asking if I was the tiny kid he remembered from the vaccination lines in elementary school in Iowa.
Yes, I was the tiny kid who screamed. He also remembered something that I have no memory of. He remembered that I got in line a 2nd time. If this happened, I must have been in shock. There is no way I would voluntarily get a 2nd vaccination. I was the sort of kid who screamed when I was forced into lines. I didn't want to be in line for the drinking fountain, let alone for a needle!
And what's even weirder -- while I do remember that there were boys at my elementary school, I do not remember any of them. I only paid attention to the girls. The fact that this boy remembered my screaming, when I don't even remember him does not bode well. I will not be remembered for my science teaching, my poetry, my essays, my novels, my screenplays and stage plays, or even my ability to repair computers. I will be remembered as the little girl who screamed when she got a vaccination and who did not remember her male classmates.
And there's nothing I can do about it.