How Do You Want to Be Remembered?

The Question of Legacy

The same day that I had my heart attack, I also received a peer-generated award for my writing on Substack. To say the least, it was a day that began and ended with emotions and thoughts on totally opposite ends of the spectrum. What started with surprise and gratitude ended with a mixed concoction of fear, confusion, and disbelief. What began with me announcing to my wife,”Wow, this is pretty cool! C.J., one of the writers I follow on Substack, nominated me for an award for my writing!” ended with a grim faced doctor announcing,”You have had what we call a silent heart attack. They will be doing a procedure on you tomorrow.”

There was, however, a thread of continuity lacing it all together. Upon receiving the award, there were a few “follow ups”: nominate your own set of writers for the award and answer some personal questions for the readers. One of my questions from C.J. was “What do you want to be remembered for?” I was off to work that morning so I had filed my follow ups for later in the day but the questions of who I would nominate and how I would answer the questions, especially that one, bounced around in my head the rest of the morning.

That evening, laying in the darkness of my hospital room, while I reflected on my near death experience and wrestled with the uncertainties of the coming day, the question of “What do you want to be remembered for?” held much deeper implications and meaning than it had mere hours before. Everybody wants to be remembered by their friends and family for playing your designated role whether that be parent, grandparent, son, uncle, aunt, or simply “best friend.” Having a few of those carved into your headstone in loving remembrance would never be a bad thing.

Then there is the life story, the “highlight” reel as it could be. There were successful projects, great teams, awards, trophies, and wall plaques. When I think of those, I always think of Johnny Cash’s last music video, for the song “Hurt”. There are a few scenes in that video of Cash’s awards laying shattered on the floor, along with some of the original records and other memorabilia. That video has always left an impression on me, probably because I was already reaching an age where you realize that most of those things really don’t mean that much. Perhaps, they trigger memories but they really don’t mean that much to you, personally. Unless you had achieved success in the realm of Cash, your individual work accomplishments aren’t even notes in a company almanac anymore. Life goes on and the world continues to turn. In terms of professional accomplishments, you are likely forgotten long before the end of your days. Even in my office or den, I stopped displaying those sorts of things a long time ago.

Perhaps, what you will be remembered for is what hasn’t been done yet. For me, maybe I will write that book and see it published. For someone who has always wanted to write, that would be a fitting last milestone, a final accomplishment to cap off a normal of life of highs, lows, victories, defeats, laughter, and tears. Lying there in the hospital that night, I prayed for the opportunity and drive to write that book but I also did not feel like that was really what I wanted to be remembered for. Even if it was completed, published, and became a New York Times best seller, it would only be a marker for one part of life, one chapter in a life long saga.

Due to my time in the hospital and subsequent days of recovery, I really did not get back to responding to the nomination for almost a week. When I got to that question, I kind of punted. I wrote that I really never thought about legacy or those types of things. It really hasn’t been how I lived my life. For better or worse, there never was a game plan or mentors. There had never been a planned sequence of events. Quite honestly, it was not how I was raised. The message in my upbringing was, “Show up, stand strong, do the right thing, and work hard.” There wasn’t a lot about strategic planning, career paths, finding mentors, or any of that. Advice about relationships was even scarcer. I guess relationships were more about the examples and by-products of the career advice. “Put yourself in the right places and do the right things, the rest will take care of itself.” When I switched jobs, it rarely was about money or a better position. It was about the new challenge, the new mountain to climb. There have been a lot of highlights and successes along the way but they were scattered among industries and varied responsibilities so there really wasn’t a progression of wins to cheer – rather just a scattering of triumphs in a sea of changing directions. Nothing in there that I would consider Legacy material…..

There were a lot of embraces and warm wishes over the last week, gestures and words that helped me heal and filled my heart with joy. As I basked in the love of friends and family, I celebrated second chances and the beautiful sense of community I felt with my fellow writers on Substack and my church family. Some of things that were said to me, helped my put the legacy question in perspective. I don’t know how it fits on a headstone exactly but these are the things I would like to be remembered for:

“You’re an easy going all around nice guy.”

“You are a kind soul and a good friend.”

“You have much to do and more love to offer.”

And this from my good friend Dave Williams on Substack:

“He’s that guy—the perfect next-door neighbor whose daily appearance puttering in his yard makes me feel happy to be home. Kevin expresses his love of family and life itself with heartfelt simplicity and a sense of gratitude that defines Substack. His kindness and depth fill my spirit. I’m so happy he’s here. He keeps me grounded.”

I guess that is a pretty good way to be remembered. I will go with that…...