Legacy?

I've been mulling the now of me? A consideration without clear answers. The now demands darting back and forth between past and future.

This shallow as a cookie sheet life reflection comes on the heels of recent physical and mental popups. Nah, not fun shops to while away the time buying cool shirts. Just the argh what the hell is this poking at me from the inside. Not just the aches and pains. It's a voice whispering softly take a beat to look and listen. Take a measure because what is not measured cannot be understood. (I've not forgotten that when something is viewed it's changed) Feet firmly planted in the today. My forward looking vista is through a pin hole. My past is IMAX. That IMAX past with Dolby Sound offers memories, joys, regrets, love and more. What it does not show is legacy. What have I left behind? Behind not as something lost or forgotten. Just me.

I really don't have much of legacy. Scratching my head thinking, no hair just head. I have been posting stuff since forever. That can be a bit of a legacy. I went back to the first web Site bioc.net Goes back to 2012 a year post Donna's death. Some of the posts there were just ramblings of things that were at one time relevant. Like: "Healthcare Cost, Patients, Social Media and You and I", "Is Your Wallet Ready for a Scorpion Bite?", "Sea Change or Out at Sea with Healthcare in America", You Want a Knee Replacement? I've Got a Deal for You." Those were from 2013. They were ramblings on articles I read with links. Most of what I put up there were these shares about healthcare since that was my business and well the center of my world. Member "Occupy Wall Street". I was part of at the time "Occupy Healthcare". Where I was included. I still have friends from then.

Posts on a blog does not a legacy make. There is the Memoir "Donna, A Photo Memoir of Love and Loss". Not so sure that is legacy worthy since it never went anywhere. Self-publishing is the low hanging fruit of ersatz writers. Still it exists. So a legacy lite. Can you see me grasping at straws. Ha There's a novel sitting on my hard drive. Sitting like a latke left over from a long ago Hanukkah. I do have a play written. Working on getting it produced. Hope is such a surrogate marker for reality denial. Still, maybe it can be something that can put legs into legacy.

Beyond the self indulgent tortured prose strewn all over the place is the volunteer crisis intervention work I do. There I can say I've done what those of us who do this work do. Connect with others to bring them calm. I've been told I saved a life or two. My real pride is dialing down the pain, hurt, and fear of those struggling with family, friends, school, and life in general. Getting them to see themselves as a firefly in a jar that can light the world around them. Those moments feel like a legacy. They happen unseen. One and done. More legacy that perhaps I've left behind. Is any of this real legacy?

There are the friends who have children that are growing and becoming amazing adults. The children of friends I witnessed doing things that would bring any parent pride. Those parents have created a legacy that thrives forever. Then there are the posts of books published, art created, homes built, companies created, deeply meaningful writing, newsletters of great importance, and more. Those are legacies. I know I know comparison is the thief of joy. I just need to try harder. Be smarter. Insert shrug emoji.

I will humble brag. Back in '82 a friend had a daughter. She was a single parent. The daughter was teen and headed to camp. I wrote her a camp letter. Rereading it I was doing the validating and supporting her. What is surprising is that then I'm doing the same supporting I do as a crisis counselor. The teen who is now a very successful international banker sent me the letter i wrote. She messaged me to tell me how at that time she had no male in her life. I was that male she needed as a teen girl and will not forget how important that was. Okay legacy.

I guess all of this is just what we do as we age. Reflect, measure, doubt, scratch our heads, and loose motivation.

My take on my legacy? It would be easy to yell sour grapes. The harder exercise is to not chase for the sake of having it. Accept the small measures of things I do for others. What I will leave behind is okay enough. No grand eulogy. Just small individual memories woven into the fabric of those paths I crossed.