How to live forever

What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.

This past weekend, I rented a house with some family friends. We had 14 people packed into a home a few blocks from Lake Geneva.

We spent the weekend skiing, laughing, and playing. But at one point, our friend’s 9-year-old daughter was upstairs in her room crying. Her mom came up to the bedroom to console her, and said, ‘Abby, you have to tell me what’s wrong’.

Between sobs, Abby said, “I’m just jealous. I’m jealous that they all have a dad, and I don’t”.

11 months ago, Abby's father, Ryan, collapsed in front of her and unexpectedly died at 35 years old. Leaving behind a wife, and three young children.

I’ve thought about this moment every day. My heart is broken for these beautiful little kids. It’s unfair.

And in some small way, I understand Abby’s tears. Both of my parents died of cancer before I was 26.

I’ve felt jealous at every one of my friends’ weddings. My wife’s knowledge of my parents are only stories. She says she sometimes imagines their voices because she will never hear them.

It feels unfair when my neighbors take their kids to visit their grandparents. Because Fiona and Peter will never feel the warmth and love of my mom’s hug.  

I get angry when people complain about having to spend a holiday with their parents, and I would trade anything for one hour with mine.

But I’ve learned a few valuable lessons from this pain.

The first is that we are all going to die. For some of us, it will be in decades from now. For others, our time will be shorter. If I live as long as my dad, I have less than 8 years left.

But that’s not news. We all know our time is limited.

The most important thing I’ve learned is- if someone is carrying out our legacy, we never really die.

Let me explain:

There was one night that I was feeling bad for myself. I was crying, like Abby, in my bedroom. And I remember thinking, “It’s not fair that my mom is dead. I just wish she could have met Anna (my wife)”. And then something hit me. Anna can meet her- through me.

If I love with the heart of my mother, she still lives.

If I am compassionate like my father, he stays alive.

Instead of crying about it, I can fill that void that I feel in the world.

I am their legacy.

And it’s my responsibility to live that out every day. To make the world a better place. To take the attributes of them that I admire and replicate them.

If I fail, they truly die. But if I succeed, they live through me. They live through my kids. And it spreads.

Ancient Greek politician Pericles said, "What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others".    

Legacies are bigger than just us- they connect and weave us with all of the people that have given us the opportunities that we have today. If we invest in it, its growth is exponential. 

We all need to ask ourselves: after I’m gone, what am I leaving behind? What is my legacy?

Abby came out to her room. She walked back into the living room as we were all playing music. She said, “can any of you play ‘Swing and Turn Jubilee?” Out of this small 9-year-old girl came the voice of an angel. As she sang- I looked at her and I didn’t see a 9-year-old girl. I saw her dad.

He was alive. Through her. And it was a beautiful legacy.