‘Legacy’ - what others see when they no longer see you.
It was a fruitful conversation to have and it went like this. That when you are 20 something you are pretty much absorbed in life and living it to the full with no thought for the future and certainly Sister Death is non-existent. Sure, like she happens, but only to really old people.
But now that we are a little closer to our dotage, Sister Death is peeking from around the corner and casting alluring, knowing looks. How do I/we prepare to greet her?
I think I have begun the process by doing the pragmatic stuff. My favourite undertaker knows exactly what vestments to put on my body. There is a file with hymns, readings etc. Cremation is the order of the day. I have a will and I have a nifty purple organ donation card which takes pride of place in my wallet.
Other people will arrange their inevitable interview with Sister Death in other ways and that is right and good and proper and appropriate.
But there was another word lying latent in this conversation. This other word was ‘Legacy’. Someone defined it this way. Legacy is what others see when they no longer see you. So the question that is in my face and will not let me shy away is this.
‘What will others see when they no longer see me?’ What legacy will remain? Here are my pious, naive wishes.
That something I have said, written or done, will have enabled just one person, at one point in time, to glimpse the unconditional love of You Know Who. Pretty much pie in the sky, but it's a good thing to aim for. So having had a go at answering these questions, it’s now your turn.