Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I was talking more about the futility of life than the actual paperwork.
I felt something similar going through my mom's stuff.
Objects that she has used and treasured...none of us wanted. We had no room for it. And most of it had no meaning to us, let alone our kids.
It made me kind of depressed, like how quickly you are forgotten. Your mark is stamped out. I assumed it took a few generations...but it seems to be like one.
Anonymous wrote:I was talking more about the futility of life than the actual paperwork.
Anonymous wrote:People don’t keep paper copies of things anymore…
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I was talking more about the futility of life than the actual paperwork.
Try to reframe it. It isn't the futility of life, it's collecting the detritus of life that is futile.
But I get your point.
So it’s not really about the paperwork, more the actions behind it. We spend so much time setting up homes, getting cars, going to school, working. And then it’s done and so what? Maybe I’ve been to too many funerals lately.
Anonymous wrote:People don’t keep paper copies of things anymore…
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I was talking more about the futility of life than the actual paperwork.
Try to reframe it. It isn't the futility of life, it's collecting the detritus of life that is futile.
But I get your point.
Anonymous wrote:I was talking more about the futility of life than the actual paperwork.