Leaving a Legacy?

Our community lost a friend. I lost a friend, one who was much closer to others than he was to me. I still remember his laugh. His smile, his stories, his conversations when he was a little too loud talking to my neighbors.  Walls can be pretty thin in a tract-building community where houses are spitting distance apart.  Our friend was always a good host, too, when the gatherings moved across the street to where he lived. 

In late 2022, I met a couple who would change my outlook on what I leave behind and how I interact with those on this earth while I live. The couple had a good estate plan, doing what most people do —naming their spouse as Power of Attorney and the executor of the estate.  While most people name a child or a sibling as the successor executor or power of attorney, this couple had no children, and their siblings and family members lived "away," and none seemed particularly "close" to the couple.  For whatever reason, each named their attorney as successor in power of attorney and executor.  As the attorney was older than both members of the couple, I don't think he anticipated being called upon. Unfortunately, the world deals with us in its own way.  The man became terminally ill. The woman did too, essentially, as dementia took over her life. 

One of the man's siblings came down after being notified that he was not doing well.   She went through his belongings, found the power of attorney, and contacted the attorney.  The attorney contacted someone else to help plan their care and coordinate other matters.  Unfortunately, the man passed away only a few days later.  Plans continued for the wife's care until she succumbed to her illness only days later.  The sibling had already gone home. I can't say the sibling wasn't sad, but it all seemed very transactional. 

The attorney set about trying to plan for the burial of the man first and set up a time for the wife to come say goodbye. I am not sure she even made it for the final good-bye.  After the remains for both were dealt with, no one seemed interested in having them brought "home" to be buried in a place closer to family. Both parties were cremated, and no one asked for any of the remains or made any plan to come here to spread ashes.  No service was conducted. No death notice was published. No obituary was published.  They were just gone.  No record of their existence or demise existed, save for their death certificates.  No one was able to mourn their loss. Did anyone even want to mourn the loss? Did anyone even care?  A few months later, the family contacted us to ask where their remains had been buried so that a family member could stop by the location on their way to somewhere else to pay respects.  There was NOTHING but a grave marker with a number on it.  There isn't even an inscription with their name. Just a little marker on the lot/plot. 

As a couple who lives "away" from family and doesn't have children, what are the odds that my demise will be the same?  No one will know or care?  I mean, I guess it won't matter. I will be dead and won't know.  It is sad to realize that someone has lived a life, and no one seems to care that they are gone.  I didn't know them, but now every time I am in the vicinity of their burial plot, I stop by just to remember that they existed. 

There is no reason anyone would be interested when I pass, either, and I remain sad that maybe no one will even know I am gone.  Maybe my family will just drive by the cemetery as they drive down the interstate on their way to somewhere else, and look over, and perhaps they too will say, "She's buried somewhere over there."  I can only hope that someone will come and wipe away the weeds and, every once in a while, look down and be reminded that I did once exist.