Legacy

A number of years ago I did some work for a gentleman who was actually one of my dad's teachers in the early 40's. He was quite old, but still very interested in studying and writing. He had a library in his home that was filled with his writings and notes. He was well versed in many subjects and always interesting to talk to. Being such a scholarly man, I knew he had a head full of knowledge and observations from his whole life and thought it was so very good that he wrote everything down. What a legacy for his four children and his grandchildren.
He passed away after a stroke and his wife called me in to work in his den, as she was cleaning it out so she could use the room for some of her hobbies. All the written work was piled high throughout their home and her task for the next while was to sort through it all and catalogue it. It was only a few years later that I heard she was not well and had to go into an extended care home. I got a call from her daughter one day and she wanted me to 'fix up' her mom and dad's place because it was being sold. As I met her at the home, I noticed that almost all the contents were gone. I asked her what had become of her dad's writing.
She told me, with a sadness in her voice, that nobody in the family had room for all the material, neither, did it seem, that anyone was interested in saving anything that had belonged to the old gentleman. Each child and grandchild was invited to go through the pile and take a memento. The rest went to the re-cyclers or the dump.
I have thought of that many times, about how a man's entire work can be disposed of so casually. The daughter's parting words to me were the only thing that helped me make sense of it. She said that her dad lived what he wrote. There would be not much there to surprise anyone, and his entire family knew him very well. His legacy was not in what he wrote or left behind, but in how he lived.
Cont'd tomorrow.