Sunday, October 5, 2014

Legacy

 
 

 
"Every now and again, we come face to face with the nagging question of "What am I here for?"



John didn't need an alarm clock anymore. Heck, he was retired. He could go to bed and get up when he wanted to. As he stumbled out of bed, he had to think for a minute. "What day is it today?" Like many retired folk, the old adage of "every day is a Saturday" really does come true. You lose track of days.

Once he remembered it was Sunday, a wry smile appeared on his face. He loved Sunday mornings. The neighborhood was peaceful, and the Sunday paper was the only one during the week worth reading. John ground up some beans and started the coffee brewing. He knew that once he came inside with the Sunday paper, the kitchen would already have that rich, enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

After John returned with the paper, the coffee pot almost had enough for one small, very strong cup of coffee. And that is the way John liked it. He would start to read the paper while drinking what was almost espresso. By the time he was done reading the first section, the pot would be done brewing, just waiting to be enjoyed.

As much as John dreaded it, he started off with the local section of the paper. The reason for the dread was simple - it is where the obituaries are. John strongly disliked reading them. He read them for one reason only. It started about three years ago after he found out his old friend Charlie, died suddenly. He almost heard about it too late. In fact, he barely made the funeral.

Never one to go to church, John was a bit uncomfortable. He remembered sitting in a hard pew, listening to a pastor talk about Charlie's life. The pastor was trying to sum up in fifteen minutes, sixty-two years of a life well lived by Charlie. Now that it is over, now what? Of all the things that Charlie did, all the people he met, the people he loved, what did it now matter? After the service, John walked the long way home, thinking over and over about his friend Charlie.

John made a promise to himself he would never again get caught by surprise when a friend passes. That is why he reads the obituaries every Sunday. Even if someone dies during the week, it is likely the obituary will appear in the widely read Sunday paper. So every Sunday, John pours over each and every obituary.

On this particular Sunday, John was about a third of the way through the obituaries when he came across one which was very short. He was always fascinated that some obituaries were almost a column long, many were much shorter, and others were somewhere in between. This one however, was one of the shortest he had ever seen. It said:

 
Thomas Goodwin
Husband, father, grandfather, child of God
He lived, he loved, he served.
Those he touched, he changed.
He now lives in Heaven,
but our lasting gift is this -
his legacy, which is ours to keep.
 
 
John stopped reading for a minute and put the paper aside. "I don't get it" he thought. "No birth date, no death date, no cause of death, no memorials requested." Then he thought deeper. There was nothing in the obituary about what he did for a living. Heck - that is what really matters! You get up, get yourself ready, go to work and "punch the clock", and then come home. That is what we are all supposed to do, day after day, year after year. John just could not understand why that was not mentioned.
 
After he was done reading the paper and the coffee was finished, John went for a long walk. That is where he was able to do his best thinking. He thought about his friend Charlie, dying suddenly. He thought about the hundreds upon hundreds of obituaries he had read since Charlie's death. He thought about Charlie's fifteen minute homily at the funeral service. Then John thought about his own life.
 
"What have I done that really matters? I know, I know. I worked for the same company for just shy of forty years. I never married, never had kids. How will people remember me when I am gone? What will my obituary say? What will my fifteen minute homily say?"

Questions, questions - many tough questions were going through John's head. Then he thought about the very short obituary for Thomas Goodwin. He could have been a bank president or a bum. It did not say. All the obituary said was this - Thomas mattered. He did something important to change lives. In other words, he left his mark on the world.
 
John is typical of many of us as we age. The old and nagging question comes up more and more often - "What am I here for?" Pastor Rick Warren wrote an excellent book years ago titled The Purpose Driven Life. In that book, this question is addressed from both a secular and spiritual perspective.
 
We all, each and every one of us, matter. We were all created for a purpose. It is not what we do for a living, it is not how much money we make, it is not leaving a nice house or cabin for our heirs. No our life on this planet, our legacy, is how we live our lives.
 
As short as Thomas Goodwin's obituary is, it could have been even shorter. He lived, he loved, he served. Not much more needs to be said. His legacy lives on.   
 
 

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