Cemetery thoughts

Today I spent my afternoon at a cemetery.
No I didn't know anyone lain there, I had never even been there before.
But something about its silent rock testaments to life lived and lost called to me.
As I wandered through this place of solitude I came upon a monument where names written in stone were lined on a wall, as opposed to the hundreds planted in the grass. As i walked up and down those aisles I came to one where all were blank. and then another. And another. Over a hundred blank stone tablets. hung and waiting. Waiting for one to die, to give them purpose. The living know that they shall die. It is an inescapable yet haunting fact.
As I causally strolled among the hundreds of white stones in the grass, and amidst the tall, more general and impersonal monuments I pondered. : All of these had died for a specific purpose, or at least all were said to have died for a specific purpose. War.
I wondered what each individual would think of that. As far as a general umbrella reason as to why they died I suppose they may not bicker or gripe. But if I were they, I think I would want a comma instead of a period. War, family, Love. etc. I would want my own individual  reasons to be mentioned. Individualism, such an american cultured concept.
Yet in the very end where is this flare of personal color, this individualism? We all die. It's the same ending for all.
Dying is as much of a natural part of life as blinking, it just happens. Its the living bit that makes us into who we are remembered for and defines our individual natures.
Honestly I don't know what I will be remembered for. As much as the next person I want to be remembered for something positive, writer perhaps? Or lover of the people of the world?
I don't know, but this I do know.  What I will be remembered for starts today. What I choose to do in my day today (not because it is special, rather just because it is, it exists) will determine what I am remembered for.