I Want to Be Someone You Remember in Stillness

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about presence, what we leave in people’s lives long after we’re gone from the room. Not in the big, loud, legacy-making sense, but in the quiet ways that linger.

Today’s piece is a small part of a larger conversation I’ll be sharing soon, one that invites more voices, more reflections, more truths about what remains after the noise fades…

I Want to Be Someone You Remember in Stillness

I don’t need to be the loudest room you've ever walked into. I don’t need to be the headline or the hand you clap for. But I do want to be the moment you exhale and think, yeah… that felt like peace.

I want to be someone you remember in stillness. When the noise dies down. When your phone’s on silent. When it’s just you and whatever’s left. 

Maybe that looks like the way I listened or how I showed up without being asked. Maybe it’s a sentence I said that you still turn over in your mind now and then. Maybe it’s how I made space for you to feel all the way human.

I used to think legacy was what you leave behind. Now I think it’s what you leave within. So if I’ve done anything right in this life, it’s that I loved you in a way that doesn’t rush to be remembered…

it just stays,

O.B. TramueL