What we leave behind

I caught this title from the ending of the Deep Space Nine series.
I liked the idea that we always leave something behind.
Maybe in everyday of our lives, we are constantly choosing what we take and what we leave.
Granted that everyday, life seems more like a string of choices that can be rewritten if we just go back and redo a bit of the past in the continuous present. Today, if I call a friend, I am choosing to grant attention to that one person in particular, leaving a series of other possible encounters behind. But tomorrow, I may call another and thus instill the illusion that I am not leaving anything behind, but instead make conscious choices by will, keeping day by day what matters close.
A poem, a music, a film, a play, a painting, all these expressions of art are continuously undergoing selection by what stays and what moves one. Every now and again we revisit some old favourites, to keep them fresh in our memory.
Alas, with living entities we often are faced with the painstaking fact that some things that are left behind, do stay beyond our reach. We often invoke them by memory but that is a fickle trick, one tapestry that almost immediately loses grasp of the original moment. For a fainting moment it allows us to recall the highlights of a particular event, but without actually experience the full spectrum of nuances that the whole extract of life had right there and then.

Personally, there are many things I miss.
I do dwell on recollections to preserve a fresh sense that what I have left behind is not so far gone that I cannot somehow feel it as being some echo from yesterday. My memories will eventually fade away to oblivion as my faculties start withering and ultimately, when death leaves my body and memory behind there will be nothing left.

There is a constant hope, some comfort notion of an afterlife existence, albeit unproven, whether by reincarnation, spiritual evolution, transmutation, you name it... Religions of different sorts hold its believers hoping for a life after death, where somehow we can reencounter all of those that has left us behind so long ago.
There is no proof that it may be so. For now, the marks we leave, each of our living days til we die, are in fact all that we can be certain that we actually are leaving something behind. Hopefully those that survive us will carry on the tale of our existence for generations to come. Plus, if the deeds he made in life were worthy, those too will carry on.

I leave this entry, one of many, behind. Hopefully, this text will outlast me in the physical world and might hold some meaning for someone I will leave behind.