Legacy

"The measure of a life, after all, is not it's duration, but it's donation." - Corrie Ten Boom.

The word legacy has been floating around in my head all week. It first popped up when I said to Ken, in a moment of deep grief and tears, that I wanted to somehow find my way out of this grief and trauma, because I didn't want my dad's legacy to be that he left behind pain and sorrow. That just wasn't my dad and not at all what I want myself or others to remember about him. So I've been going over in my mind about what is his true legacy. I looked up the definition of legacy in the Merriam-Webster dictionary and found this:

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.
Also, a special footnote that said "...often a substantial gift that needs to be properly managed."

The footnote really struck a cord with me, as I'm currently feeling like the gifts that Dad left us, and there were many, need to be properly managed. Not only do I not want any of us to forget him, but I don't want us to forget his legacy, the important things he passed on to us.

The first of his legacies to register in my mind was LOVE. As I have done almost daily since his death, this morning I listened to the last voicemail that he left for me the week before he died. While it is painful to hear his voice, it also brings me joy, as it was a typical Dad message, full of his quirky sense of humor. As a definite gift from God, I have about 8 or so of these still on my phone (and now safely downloaded to my computer). After crying and laughing at the first one, I listened to a few more. As he always did, each message ended with the words "I love you". Every conversation that we every had, whether in person or by phone, ended with those words.

I can remember having a conversation with him about this once. I guess some friend of his had questioned him about why he said it at the end of every single conversation. Dad said that you just never know what's going to happen in life and he wanted to make sure that we knew how he felt. Each and every time. Although I do this a lot with my family, I can't say that I do it at the end of every conversation. But I want to now. Because these last few weeks have shown me that Dad was right, again. You just never know what's going to happen in life. And I do find comfort in knowing that they were some of the last words that we shared, even in the chaos of that day.

Dad didn't just use his words to show his love, but he constantly used his actions. As I said before, there was not a day of my 49 years that he wasn't beside me, and then my family, showing us that he loved us in a million different ways. I don't have enough space to do him justice right now, but maybe someday I can set some of that to words.

Another legacy of Dad's was JOY, as all who knew him will attest. Dad loved to laugh, he loved to joke and he loved for others to do the same. He was known for his good hearted pranks. Talk to Lauren about the year she was expecting a laptop computer for Christmas, especially after her sister had just opened a really nice camera from Pop, and she opened her box to find a smoked ham! After several minutes of Dad trying to act like that was her actual gift, he finally gave her the second box, the laptop. When I was in school, Dad loved to tell tall tales to my always gullible friends, to see just how much he could get them to believe before he finally told the truth.

FAITH was an important part of my father and one of his legacies that I pray is carried on like unending ripples through the family and friends that he was in contact with. He came to know Jesus as his Lord and Savior when he was a young boy, thanks to my grandmother and lots of what I'm sure were very patient Sunday School teachers. Yesterday we found what I can only guess was his first personal bible, given to him by a Sunday school teacher when he was about 9 years old. Dad, like many people, had times when he wasn't as close to the Lord and times when he really struggled through hard times. He and I had talked about how angry he was at God after my baby brother died. But he never stopped believing and after many years was able to reconcile his feelings and grew back in step with his Savior. Dad was not one to share his faith with many people, but I know that he and I had many long talks about our beliefs and that from time to time he talked to different friends and family members about how God had worked in his life and could work in theirs.

Dad had many many more legacies that will be carried on by the family. Like his need, over the last few years, to wear obscenely bright neon shirts. Everywhere. He came marching out of his house in a neon yellow shirt to wear to the hospital on that last day. I remember laughing out loud as I saw him come out of his house and he joked that it was the uniform that they now give to old people, so if he got lost he would be easy to find. My crew now seems to gravitate towards those bright shirts and I have taken over Dad's collection.

But the things that matter the most, LOVE, JOY and FAITH, those are his legacy. And I am doing my best to get past the pain and trauma and sorrow, so that I can work on managing these substantial gifts. Because that's what he would want.

**Man, God really shows up to get his message through! I had to take a break to go run an errand before doing my last proofread and hitting publish. As I drove down the expressway, there was a church with a sign that simply said "What is your legacy?" I realized then that God was not just asking me to think about preserving Dad's legacy, but also analyzing my own. Am I living a life that is leaving substantial gifts to the world? Are the things that I want to be my legacy actually the things that are taking priority in my life? More to think about...