There isn’t a person alive or dead who hasn’t wanted to leave their mark in this world. It pains us in those quiet dark moments of our lives that we might not be remembered beyond some cold incisings on a granite monument. What we don’t understand, is that we are trying to protect footprints we’ve made across a beach. The people who have lived on this earth number in the billions now, like the individual grains of sand on that proverbial beach.
Earlier today, I was discussing our family genealogy with my son-in-law, and I was sad that we know so little about our family’s history and the people who came before us. If we cannot find even the name of a great-great-grandmother, who represents only four generations or about 80 years before, how can we expect to make a lasting impression with anything we do? My guess is that there are less than a thousand people who have made such a mark on civilization that it lasts beyond 100 years. Hollywood, with all its stars and megastars of screen screaming for our adulation, has not even begun to withstand the weathering effects of serious time. But even there, can you name two legends of the silent pictures era?
It’s not to depress you that I bring up this topic. It’s to turn you from your frenzy to be remembered in a Capital Letters way. I don’t know what my great-grandmother’s favorite flower was, nor what she thought of Shakespeare, but I knew her well enough from a child’s perspective, to know she was a loving person, neat in her appearance, hard working, and God-fearing. I remember her sweet smile and how her thinning white hair braid wove around her head like a tiara. It was her spirit that warmly filled my great-grandparents’ home until the day she died. When I pass on, there will be one less person who remembers my great-grandmother, maybe even one of the last. But her example showed me at a visceral level of understanding what it is to lead a good life. It’s been 50 years since she passed, and although I have to look at a photograph to refresh my memory on her features, the lessons she taught me are as clear as this morning: be generous with those who are less fortunate than you, be patient with the old, young, and infirm, take the time to say a kind word or give a smile or hug where it’s needed, work hard without complaint, and be content with the life you have been given. If I can distill her life into one single footprint, it would be “contentment.” She had strong faith and lived it every day. That gave her a centering and joy I strive for, to this day. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a great-grandchild or anyone, for that matter, be able to say that about yourself in 50 years? Mr. Shakespeare had the right of it when he talked about the world as a stage and men and women players with a part in the play, As You Like It. I disagree, however, with his term “merely” players, because each person’s life is a precious unique item, and it only takes one’s first brush with death to understand that. If you truly want to be remembered, give of yourself in a thousand little ways, and you will have made deep footprints indeed in the lives you leave behind.