When I think of legacy, I think of two parts, something that “lasts”; and something of “purpose”. One of the definitions on the web for legacy is “Something handed down from an ancestor or a predecessor or from the past”
Paula and I would sometimes discuss this idea of “what will be my legacy”? We both have gravitated to older, sicker people who have a habit of dying before we do. When the people who you have shared so much with leave before you do, there is a valid question “what will be my legacy”? “Who will be around to care that I existed?” “Who will care about the people in the photos that I have kept.”
Things that last:
One of my hang-ups as a kid was the thought that everything should last; nobody should die; nothing should be discarded or thrown away (I guess I still feel that way). The thought that friends of mine who I cared about very deeply are gone saddens me (“they were important to me!!”).
I have been known to get emotionally attached to many inanimate objects. My parents drove us across country from San Diego to Groton, CT in a ten-year old Renault (I was two years old at the time). About seven years later, Dad told me that he was going to sell the car, (the car that he taught me and a neighbor, both of us eight years old girls, how to drive). I pleaded with him not to get rid of it (too much sentimental value). He ended up giving it to a troubled teenage boy up the street. (Ours was the only house in the neighborhood that was not “egged” that Halloween. We always thought the two events were related.)
When Ola, our first dog died, Clark picked what seemed like the most “high end” monument retailer. They happened to be almost an hour away. We made an appointment and the sales man helped us pick out a stone that was appropriate for a dog (dogwood flowers on the corners). I bought the insurance policy on the stone that guaranteed it for perpetuity. (The stone cost more than double what I spent on my Mom’s stone). When I shared this story with my friend Frank, he laughed and said: “they saw you coming”. I can smile now because I don’t even know where the perpetuity policy is.
In New Hampshire we often visited the “man on the mountain” which was a rock formation on the side of a mountain that looked like the profile of a man. This rock formation should have lasted forever (or at least my life time), but it fell off the mountain a few years ago (acid rain may have accelerated the process).
Things of purpose:
My parents instilled in us a very strong work ethic: “work hard and makes us proud”. I have had many accomplishments in my professional life. But it has been my experience that nothing in the business world is truly lasting. Many of the companies that I have worked for got to a certain size and “got greedy” and decided to “cash out”. An example is the building, (where a picture of a former RI Governor and me was taken), sits idle without any tenants other than an occasional graduate student. I have good memories of mentoring people and helping young people find a career that fit their abilities and desires, however, any good that I may have done is “lost in the wind” once the company is gone. Even though I have been very successful, I don’t think I will have much of a legacy professionally. The environmental laboratory business is too volatile to build a lasting legacy.
Saturday Night: Paula would often tell people that Saturday night exists because of me. This may be an exaggeration (but not much of one). I help newcomers take on responsibilities in the group and if they falter, I pick up the slack. I have made more pots of coffee than I can begin to count and I have rarely missed a Saturday night (can’t remember the last one that I missed). Having said this, I am certain that when I am gone, someone else will fill that role (Paula called me a “benevolent dictator”), or like so many groups, the Saturday night group will disband from lack of interest. Again this will not be my legacy.
It appears that the adage “nothing of this world lasts” is true.
So I think maybe “legacies” may only be for famous people, and I suspect that the legacies that we build for our public figures have more to do with our wants and aspirations than the actual accomplishments of the people involved.
The spiritual angle
I smile each time I think back to what Hughie would say if a newcomer said that he/she wasn’t fond of the spiritual part of the program, He would say: “It is a spiritual program; there is no part to it.”
I think that this is true of all life, but we sometimes get muddled in self-centered thoughts (I know I do).
Paula and I would talk often, especially during her last illness, about many different topics from a spiritual angle. (In one of her journal entries, she had described some of her spiritual journey and then made the comment – “that Higher Power is as real as the breath I breathe and closer than my hands and feet”).
Some of our conversations went in the direction that scientific theories can also be spiritual theories (if you believe that all things come from God). I especially enjoy linking things that I learned in church to things that I learned in school.
Michelangelo’s Sistine chapel painting of God creating Adam:
I was drawn to biochemistry in college. I am fascinated by the fact that DNA are made from four bases: adenine (A), cytosine (C), guanine (G), and thymine (T); that DNA instructs the cells to make the proteins that drive life as we know it; and that proteins are built from amino acids, and some amino acids aren’t made by our bodies (essential). I was watching a show on PBS that was trying to recreate life by “making” an amino acid in a “test tube”. They weren’t able to do it; but the show went in the direction that the essential amino acids that started life on our planet probably came from a passing asteroid. I immediately thought of the Michelangelo’s painting of God with an outstretched hand “touching” the outstretched hand of Adam. The two images tie together in my head beautifully.
The string theory and the “word of God”
I have an easier time grasping science than religion (even though I would really like to be a “good” person). Sometimes science allows me to bridge the gap. The string theory is one of those cases. Einstein’s theories are “true” only when the object that is being observed has sufficient mass. When you get down to the molecular level, the theories fall apart. The string theory basically says that yes, matter is made of molecules; and molecules are made of atoms; and atoms are made of protons and electrons (and other small bits); but at the base tying everything together are strings (vibrations that are not made of matter). These vibrations have a frequency, and frequency is what makes sound. Therefore the universe is constantly making a sound; for me this is “the word of God”.
The thought that brings me the most comfort is that:
The part of the person that matters most never dies.
I am especially fond of the following verse of Amazing Grace:
“When we’ve been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’ve first begun”.
On the day that I wrote this essay a smiling face shown from the clouds over Paula’s grave (the picture above). I find it very easy to imagine Paula “bright shining as the sun”; and maybe this is the best legacy of all.
All Are Welcome in my Father's House 