Legacy

Legacy: 1 : a gift by will especially of money or other personal property ; 2 : something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past.

Until recently I thought of it in the realm of the public domain. We remember a certain person for their community works, dedication to a cause, or service. We are reminded of what important citizens have done for our countries as we read their names on parks, university buildings, or roads. We honor outstanding people by erecting statues. In short, legacy to me, evoked the notion of noble public figures.

But three weeks ago my understanding of legacy shifted dramatically. It happened when attending the funeral of a friend’s mother. This friend and I met in the Fall of 2020 in Loudoun County. She and her husband had just moved back to northern Virginia at the same time that my husband and I decided to move out of DC and settle in Leesburg. She had moved home to help her father care for her ailing mother. Over the last 20 months, I have observed at a great distance my friend’s devotion to her parents. I could relate in the smallest way as I had witnessed my own mother’s devotion to her ailing mother and knew how heavy a burden it had weighed on her.

I never met my friend’s mother. Yet, when she passed away this November, it really affected me: the possibility of my own mother’s death at a young age. The countless small moments with our son she would miss. The loneliness it would engender in my father. With this very heavy heart, I attended her mother’s funeral, in support to my friend.

Never would I have imagined that I would be so touched and inspired by a funeral, by the celebration of this woman’s great life. But that is what happened that day. And that is what shifted dramatically my understanding of legacy.

Have you ever really given thought to how your children will remember you? Seems like a slightly morbid question. But sitting that day in the sanctuary, the reality of impressions, of what we impart or imprint on the lives of our children, became all too clear. The simplest way I can imagine this is: if your children were to deliver your eulogy, what would they say?

In my friend’s mother’s case, her children spoke of 4 Ws: “She was warm. She was welcoming. She was witty. She was wise.” They shared their childhood recollections of growing up in a house where there was always a house guest, someone in need of refuge or shelter. They spoke of holiday meals around their dining table which always had an extra seat set for a stranger who might knock at the door. They spoke of an open door to children in the neighborhood. Of music always playing. Of love being expressed every day as they went off to school. They spoke of a woman dedicated to youth and family causes. Of a person of conviction and deep faith.

As I listened to their words, and those of the congregation who chose to speak during the open mic, a picture impossible to describe here emerged. The more I listened the more I also realized that many of these defining traits they were honoring in their mother I had witnessed in her daughter, my friend. Without even knowing it, we influence and dramatically shape our children’s outlook on life, their behaviors towards others, and their interest to be a part of shaping a better society. This mother, and her daily intentional actions, were a testimony to that.

I left her funeral inspired. To be a better wife, mother, friend, and stranger.

For those of us who have professional lives, it is easy sometimes to get caught up thinking of our legacy in that realm. But as I have heard all too often from colleagues, it is the time with your family and friends that will be remembered. It is those moments of human connection and influence that will matter most. For those like me who place a certain value on what you produce in the outside world, I challenge you, as I am challenging myself, to reorient our notion of legacy. To make that coffee date with a friend you’ve been meaning to catch up with for a while. To repeat every day to your children the things that you believe matter most in a life well-lived and served. To reinforce through affection and hugs your love for your little ones.

Take time over this weekend to consider how you want your children to remember you, and what you want to influence them. Write it down in a journal, on a piece of paper, the back of an envelope. Tuck it somewhere safe. Return to it every now and then to see how your legacy is taking shape.