‘Exquisitely painful’ is the description I’d give for my memories of those no longer here. Those who have touched me deeply, inexorably, powerfully. What more meaningful offering can a being hope to leave as a legacy?
I am amazed at the clarity with which I can remember certain details: lyrics by famous and not so famous artists, dimples, deep conversations, laughs, smells. Sideways glances, smiles, tears, advice, kindness.
What do we choose to leave as a reminder of ourselves? How do we nourish ourselves and others? Who are we? What do we stand for?
My parents were freedom fighters – brave, opinionated, and committed to (what they considered) right action. They were fearless, loving, proud, and responsible. They are the people I would and have modeled my life after.
When individuals have passed you may think of them differently. More generously perhaps because they are missed, or perhaps because their better attributes are remembered.
I choose to grow into a better version of me, with a wider angle slanting toward loving kindness in thought and action, so that my children can see me as generously as I see my parents.
Legacies of love are legacies that bear repeating.