An elderly client told me years ago: "When I was a boy my mother said to me, 'Son, everything in this life matters... just not very much." Your life matters. It's a one shot around this amazing spinning globe. Life is precious and rare in our end of the galaxy. Make the most of it. Enjoy it. Do good. Make the world and someone's life a little better for your passing. Just don't let your ego fool you into thinking you're so darn important. Shelley wrote the following famous poem reminding us of just this very thing:
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear --
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'
—Percy Bysshe Shelley
A more modern version might be "all we are is dust in the wind..." by Kansas
Anyway, as we ponder the transience of life, there are a few folks who've left their final mark on their headstones as follows: