Rethinking What it Means to Leave a Legacy
The simplicity of immortality.
Working in philanthropy has given me a front-row seat to how others plan on leaving a lasting legacy. Sometimes, that involves grand gestures and public acknowledgments, like names etched on buildings, plaques, or park benches. My attempt at publishing a novel could be considered my version of securing a spot in history.
But as time passes, my perspective continues to evolve. I’m beginning to see the true essence of a legacy as something different — more subtle and intimate but still highly significant.
In less than a year, I’ve overcome the desperation I once felt about seeing my work on a bookstore shelf. The urgency to achieve this long-sought-after milestone has surrendered to a more flexible goal: an objective less about recognition and validation and more about the potential message I could send to my children.
One reason for the sudden shift: attending a funeral for a friend.
Last week, I attended a celebration of life for someone I’ve known for over a decade. I got to know him and his wife through their daughters, who went to school and played sports with mine. Less than four years ago, he was diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), and he finally succumbed…
