It’s funny how one word like legacy can bring to mind so many different pictures. There’s a musical ability passed down from one generation to the next. There’s an affinity and gift with plants that can be shared by individuals. Then there’s the kind of legacy someone leaves behind with a life well lived.
Last Friday and Saturday a young man’s life was celebrated. People from his past — high school, college, work colleagues, members of committees he was on (and started) family and friends along the highway of life — came to show his wife and three children how much he meant to them.
In the weeks and months leading up to his death people shared their thoughts and emotions about David with his wife and the rest of us on his Caring Bridge site. Even if you only knew him from one facet of his diamond-shaped life, you felt lucky enough to have gotten that AND this glimpse into the rest of it, to include the incredible faith-filled marriage he and his lovely bride shared.
It is these things which are a legacy left behind for his children and the rest of God’s children to benefit from and learn to become better people by. He had a worry of not being remembered. How can this be? This man, whom people I asked to pray for him have changed their lives and habits because of, thought we might forget him. It doesn’t work that way, though, you see. The one’s who get it really right are sometimes the ones that are plucked to leave a big, open, gaping, sucking hole behind and the rest of us have to honor his memory by doing the right thing and loving one another and being kind and seeing those who might otherwise go unnoticed and sprinkling smiles in our wake like a flower girl dribbling petals at a wedding.
David, you are gone from this world, but will not be forgotten and we are all better for having known you and getting to know your wonderful family. Prayers abound for their ability to miss and grieve you in their own way and time while remembering your gift for wit and humor. I hope someday to have as much grace and courage as you and Janet showed along your journey. Forever a Friar, my friend.