Will I Be Remembered?

Dear journal  
 
My thoughts are troubled. The clear truth is that one day, I will face the same ending that meets all humans. I cannot escape death.
 
Will anyone remember me when I am ash? Will there be any record of past loves in the ruins of what once was? Will the beauty of nature, the rustling leaves, the chorus of the ocean still sing to me in the darkness that awaits? And the kindness I've known, the gentle touches, the warm smiles – will they carry any weight in that land of nothingness?
 
These were my thoughts as I lay in my bed missing my daughter. My hands trace the contours of my soft, animal self as to confirm my existence. My fingers are practiced in pleasing myself. There is comfort in knowing that even when my body ceases, I will live on in the memories of those I’ve loved.  
 
For now, that is enough.