A few weeks ago, my husband and I visited some family that live out of town. While we were there, my nephew was working on writing a story and I got to transcribe it for him. As I sat there typing on his iPad, I had to hold back tears. Happy sentimental ones. My head took me back to the times I sat at my computer, typing my own stories to send to my nieces and nephews to read. Stories about animals, like the one he had written. And I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders, one I’m not sure I knew I had.
I think that most of us subconsciously worry about what our legacy will be. What will your children remember when they are grown and gone? What lessons will they hold on to? These questions are normal for any parent to wonder to themselves, but when you aren’t a parent, what then? “What” becomes “Who”. Who will remember the songs I sang? Will anyone take Carl’s lessons into adulthood? Will anyone remember us?
My nephew showed me something very important. That my life is my legacy. You don’t have to be a parent for someone to learn something from you. You don’t need to bear children to be remembered. When you pour yourself out to the people around you, your life becomes your legacy. You never know who will remember that you always said “Oh peanut butter cups” when you dropped something or that your jacket smelled like tobacco. You might see your sister pick up cake baking because you inspired her or you might see your brother start budgeting because of your advice. Or you might see your nephew write a story like you used to. Time to live life like it’s your legacy.
Casey Watkins has been married for eight years to her IT handyman. Together, they live in an old house on the east side of Indianapolis with their cat, Charlie. In their seven years of infertility, they’ve renovated their house, visited Iceland and baked a lot of cake. You can read more about Casey over on her blog, Chasing Cozy.