Somebody asked me about a year ago what they thought my legacy would be if I died today.
My answer, perhaps particularly telling, was essentially that, had I lived longer, I really could have done something or in essence, a legacy of truncated potential. I suppose this is a work and/or worldly oriented way to look at things, what with so many of the things I want to do with my life as yet unaccomplished, but as I’ve been ruminating on the word and thinking on some recent experiences I’ve had, I think that my understanding of legacy has been changing.
First, in that as I get older and start thinking about the things I want to pass on to my nephew or perhaps even one day kids of my own, I’ve been noticing more of the things that those around me have passed down to me. I think most pointedly of my love for Peanuts from my mother, my growing appreciation of trains from my father (stay off the tracks, folks), and the thoughts I have of a grandfather I never met that come when I hear somebody whistling, especially at Christmas. These are all things that, given my own doings, I’m not entirely sure I would have loved as much as I do. Peanuts perhaps (who doesn’t love Peanuts?), trains, maybe not. But now, with the memories and traditions I have from my parents, I see them in a kinder light. I think of them fondly and often, and am reminded of my love for those people when those passions come into play.
I guess this ultimately isn’t a very specific post, certainly not as directed as most of them usually are. There is no theme here, no moral, no point. I think it’s just a post about remembering and thinking, and that, I think, is enough. Remember your family, make the memories and traditions and enjoy them as time goes by.
Merry Christmas everybody. I love you guys.