Footprints in Concrete: What is Left Behind

Our legacies will be forever cemented in more ways than one

We may be long gone, but our legacy will live on, unalterably. Photo credit: iStock

Part of my soiree with middle age has been the very real understanding that tomorrow is never, ever promised. We place our heads on the pillow each night with the assumption that we will open our eyes again the next morning with another day splayed out before our eyes. Through a rather stealthy, yet detailed observation of the world around me, supplanted with very real events, I have realized that the next day could be stolen from anyone, including little ol’ me, in less time than a blink of an eye.

In the event of my sudden cessation of being, there would be obvious wheels that would begin to turn, carrying the process of dealing with my quietus along what would hopefully be a straight and narrow path. My personal effects would be disseminated, sold, or trashed, and as the grieving process abates- those who knew me would continue their own walks of life, possibly with something that was once mine in hand, but all would have memories of me bestowed upon them, tucked neatly away for retrospection at some later point along the way.

There would be my professional legacy, with many co-workers of past and present possibly having some nugatory drivel to say about me as a teacher, or maybe it would be something a bit more substantial. While my co-workers who were simply professional colleagues might have something canned to say, there would be those who knew me a bit better who delve into their minds for some kind words. The thing about teaching and nearing a point in my career where the number of students I’ve instructed is nearing a thousand, is that my sudden passing might be felt by some of them- while some might struggle to recall my name or simply remember me as the little bearded guy who raved about Fahrenheit 451.

With our professional legacy comes the needed reminder that while it’s wonderful to be respected at work, it’s far from the most important place in the world. Should something happen to any of us who work for someone else, it’s a near certainty that before the final mourners drove away from the cemetery, the position we once held would be posted, and someone from Human Resources, or a benevolent member of the custodial staff would have collected our belongings from the desks at which we once sat and worked.

More important is our personal legacy- the way in which our family, friends, and members of society at large remember us should our name come up in conversation anywhere between sixty minutes and sixty years after our departure from the world. Did we show kindness to others at all times, or only when we decided that they deserved it? Were we a ray of sunshine in the lives of others? Did we try to pick people up when they were down after a mistake, or did we place a knee upon their necks to rub their faces in the mess they made? Did we let bygones be bygones, or was a mistake from several years ago ripe for the picking when we felt it could hurt the most? Was criticism of others or their actions meant to gently correct, or was it simply a moment of self-aggrandizement in which we merely needed to prove a point?

Your answer to those questions (as long as it is honest) is a good indication of how you’ll be remembered once you’re no longer here to defend your actions.

This would seem like a logical end to this piece, and as recently as twenty-five or so years ago, the plane could have landed, tray tables up, and the plane being cleaned for its next flight, but I would be remiss not to mention the Internet, where much of our legacy will live on, possibly for decades after each and every person we knew is long gone. Our words, pictures, and thoughts will be forever embossed within the milky web that strengthens with every passing second- anyone in the world with the ability to realize what we had to say about anything on which we chose to speak.

Were our online words a true reflection of us? Was there a dual personage at play, in which we showed one side to those in person, but spewed something different from within the confines of anonymity? If we attempted to be a beacon of light within our physical worlds, was the same done for those we’ve never met?

The legal system allows us to leave clear instructions for our possessions, such as among whom they should be divided, and what should be done with other things. Yet we will be completely and unequivocally be unable to change the perception of us held by others once we have passed on. Oh sure, there may be those who defend us, but without our voice entering the chat to explain things, opinions will be difficult to change. We will be remembered by how we treated others in all situations. Our words will be remembered, our deeds will be remembered, but our greatest legacy will be our interactions with others, no matter the importance of those with whom they were had.

Once of the greatest things to come from writing is its ability to serve as therapy. As the final paragraphs left my fingers, there were words trailing behind a cursor, but the inner workings of my mind were a chaotic storm of realizing my own shortcomings, my own faults, and my occasional ignorance of the very words written mere moments ago.

It’s never too late to change, improve, or become the better version of yourself that God intended you to be. Whether you do it right this very minute, or work on it slowly over time, just get it done. In a world in which the existence of tomorrow is never set in stone, allow yourself to imprint the very best of yourself in the concrete that has yet to dry.