Within seven weeks almost to the day that my father passed away last November, my mother followed. In some ways it was a surprise, and in other ways, it made complete sense. They were both 91 years old and had been married 62 years. An image that remains ingrained in my mind is a time after I had taken them to dinner and was driving them home. The weather was nice, so instead of dropping them in front of their house, they asked to be let out at the corner to walk the rest of the way home. They exited the car and I watched as my father gently took my mother‘s hand and they walked slowly together up the slight incline of the block to their house; she walking with the aid of a cane and he, always a fast walker, slowing down to keep pace with her.
For the past two months, I have been going through their belongings and papers and yesterday, my brother and I, with significant help, emptied much of their home to get it ready to go on the market. Today is probably the first day that the grief hit me hard. There has been so much to do since they each passed, there has been barely any time to be and to feel and to reflect. Now that my parents have made their transition, I am left face-to-face with my own mortality and a realization that there are certain questions that will now remain forever unanswered because there is no one alive who can answer them. I keep finding myself thinking of asking one of them something only to realize, yet again, that neither of them is there to answer my question.
Nonetheless, my parents left a clear legacy. They left a legacy in the way they lived their lives; from the community activities, organizing, and demonstrating they engaged in (my mother was involved in Women’s Strike for Peace, an organization created in the 60’s in opposition to nuclear weapons and war, and both were involved in early work with the NAACP, the Vietnam Anti-War movement and other political activism), to the books they read, to the friends they had (their friends included a man who was a member of the Lincoln Brigade who went to Spain in the 1930’s to fight fascism), to the values they held and passed on to us (most importantly, the responsibility to leave the world a better place).
They left a clear legacy in other ways as well. My mother, whom everyone at their joint memorial described as stylish, and who was a gifted artist, left her sense of style and artistic talent to my daughter. My father had served in the Army Infantry in WW II. I was delighted and proud to give the medals he earned to my son who recently joined the Army Reserves.
It’s daunting to realize that my brother and I are now the repository of the family history and it is up to us to leave a legacy. What legacy do you want to leave?
Deb,
Thank you for sharing this. I will now take pause and think about not only what legacy I want to leave, but the questions I have for my parents that are often on my mind, but usually left for another occasion.
Often people think that leaving a legacy refers to material things, like cars, money, and homes; but it’s so touching to see your thoughts about leaving more meaningful and perhaps longer lasting legacies. I’m a strong believer in, “each one touch one.” To me that means its our relationships, and how we treat one another that has long reaching ripple affects and can generate the best type of legacy.
Hello Deb,
This is very touching and thought provoking at the same time.
More than anything else, I feel that our generation and the future generations become more compassionate and think about what impact their actions will have on their fellow humans.
I think if we all start to think about this one simple yet vital elementary school teaching, a lot of our problems will be resolved and the world will become a more happy place for everyone.
Regards,
Anshul
Dearest Deb,
Thank you so much for sharing your legacy. You are clearly carrying on the work and the commitment of your mother and your father. They sound like good people–and they remind me of my own parents and the legacy they left for me.
Your image of your parents walking up the hill together is a wonderful one for you to treasure. Thank you for sharing that.
You challenged me to think about my own legacy and so I paused for a minute or two in my day–and realised that doing the T Group next week will be my next step in continuing to create my own legacy. Thank you for helping me frame it that way.
And, as always, a big virtual hug from Scotland: (((Deb)))
Love,
Walt
Deb, this is a lovely reflection…
Deb
I am so sorry for your loss. At the same time, you are integrating those memories into part of who you are – and that is what our parents do. They shape us, and guide us and leave us with a piece of themselves. My Mom will be gone 10 years on Friday. I still feel her love and nurturance..
Julie
Deb, so sorry to hear about your loss. While you have much to be said about at this time, the memories you have to celebrate and pass on to the rest of us are invaluable. Peace and Love be with you, your daughter and your brother. Wonderful reflection!
Thanks for sharing this insight, Deb. It is a part of life that I dread, as both of
my parents are alive and active in their 80s. I’m feeling the separation of years living a thousand miles apart. When we go to visit I’m torn between asking for all the stories they care to tell about their lives and the lives of our family now passed, and just being with them naturally through a day. Both ways seem right, and yet neither seems to be enough.
I’ll use your remembrance, and those responses left here as well, as a perspective as life goes on.
Dear Deb:
Your parents have left a legacy in you that radiates to all the individuals you touch in a positive way every day.
Peace,
Gary
Thank you for this reflection. It is a transition to be on the “front line” after ones parents pass. I made that transition almost 30 years ago; having a daughter gives me the sense of being part of a larger picture. Now this week I am about to have my first grandchild. – I appreciate what it means to you to pass on symbols of your parents to your children.
Deb: This is a beautiful reflection. So sorry about your double loss. I knew about your father but hadn’t heard about your mother. My condolences and best wishes to you and your family.
Deborah, Kim, Anshul, Walt, Yvette, Julie, Ruby, Mike, Gary and Claire,
It was delightful and comforting to get online this morning and be greeted with these lovely messages. I know that each of you is leaving a compassionate, loving legacy in your wake.
Thank you for your kind and loving words.
Much love,
Deb
Deb,
Thank you for sharing the lovely memory of your parents walking together toward their house. Of all you’ve written in your very moving piece, this image stands out for me as an indelible expression of their many, many years together. I felt their presence, I knew who they were — all of it, just in that image.
May you feel peaceful and comforted in that legacy of love.
My best wishes to you and your family,
Juliet Bruce
Deb:
Grieving is so complicated and forever. Sharing your story opens up so much of my own reflection – as a daughter of my 96 year old Mom who is losing her memory and thinking of what I am doing with the time I have here on earth – my own legacy. Daughters and grandsons are important but making a difference in each person’s life that you come in contact with – like you do in this blog – is an impactful legacy to remember.
Rose, Juliet and Elena,
Thank you for adding your voices here. It is a great comfort. Thank you.
Love,
Deb
Deb,
You’re parents sound like beautiful people. No wonder you are as you are.
Peace and love to you.
Deb,
This reflection is a powerful summary of the dynamics of family. We didn’t choose our parents, but we can choose to respect and emulate their achievments and legacy. As it happens, my parents are where yours were recently-in the final period of their lives. At almost 95, my dad is failing and is struggling to remain himself. At 92, my mother is his constant caretaker, and is only now accepting some occasional help. I will be in the mode you have entered quite soon. Thanks for the guidance and insight. I will lean on them.
Dear Deb,
Thank you so much for this deep and thoughtful reflection. It helps me to stay in the grief of losing my mom – your mom’s friend – so long ago. It is a difficult place to be but also an integral part of living life fully.
What our parents teach us by their courageous actions and also through their unspoken fears is the legacy that we bear, that shapes our humanity. I am so deeply grateful for the transmission of those ideals, despite their weight.
Your work in clearing the path towards a more empathic civilization – a clearer, kinder, more vibrant present – has been an inspiration and a guide star. Your parents live on in you.
with love always,
Pia
Karen, Peter and Pia,
It is lovely to hear from you.
Peter, please lean on me in whatever way is useful for you – I am happy to share my experience.
Pia, I wish I had had a chance to meet your Mom having known her only through you and my mother. I can see her in you.
Much love,
Deb
Their greatest legacy is the remarkable daughter they raised. This was a beautiful memorial. Thank you.
Deb, this is a moving “post”–may your moments of grief gently turn into thanksgiving…these moments pop up at the strangest of times. Peace to you….
Jim and Barbara,
Thank you both.
Love,
Deb
Dear Deb,
This is a lovely reflection on your parent’s legacy – a legacy that I can clearly see living in you! Know that you have influenced my life, and I imagine many, many others; this too is part of your parents’ legacy.
much love,
Marguerite
Marguerite,
Thank you so much.
Much love and a hug.
Deb
Legacy!?
Being that I do not have human children of my own, to live beyond my time… the legacy I am attempting to leave is that of SROH and SROL.
Horses have been at our sides for thousands of years, and while we built that bond with them pulling our carts, they have always been working (self-less-ly) on healing our hearts.
It is my aim to help bring this connection back into our lives – in honor, in respect and in true connection and healing. This is what I hope to accomplish to say that… “I was here…and it mattered”!
Thank you Deb for sharing this private lesson with us.
Deb – this was so powerful and moving I had to send to others who are close to
us. Wish I had gotten a chance to get to know your parents but through them I met one very special friend who keeps me so grounded, so real, and reminds me whenever she can to take care of myself. You are a very important person in my life and I thank you for that. Legacy, yes, I will think more carefully of that “dash” between birth and eternity. Keep writing. Your writing is a gift to us all.
Warmly
Sharon
Christianna,
The work you do with horses is a blessing to many.
Please keep it up.
Deb
Sharon,
I am grateful for your being in my life as well. Thank you.
Love,
Deb
Hi Deb – I believe we are linked through our AU/NTL experience, though I don’t recall ever meeting you in person. I am very moved and appreciative of your recent post about the loss of your parents, and about the legacy they have left for you and your brother. Especially poignant to me was your statement about some questions that will now go unanswered because there is no one left alive who knows the answer.
For the last few months I’ve been engaged in some end-of-life planning (nothing imminent, just preparatory) for my kids. Although I’ve been attending to the practical aspects of not being here, I’ve given only cursory attention to the legacy elements I’d like to leave behind. Your article prompts me to pay more attention to that – inviting my four children to directly ask me about things they would like to know.
Thank you for prompting me to do this, and for sharing your grief and loving thoughts with us all.
Marianne
Marianne,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. i am delighted you found the post useful and support you in being intentional about sharing with your children and leaving them a legacy of your values.
All the best,
Deb
Dear Deb
I look forward to each Moment of Reflection that you post because each one provides for me exactly what your title indicates–a moment to pause and reflect on something that takes me beyond my particular space and time, if only for a moment. This particular post concerning the recent passing of your parents is universal, and the poignant images that you paint and the simple elegance with you convey them speak so much to what makes us all human and what makes you special. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thank you for sharing your parents with us, if only for a moment, and thank you for reminding us that we each have been given a legacy to cherish and have a legacy to give.
Ben
Ben,
What a delight to hear from you – it has been absolute ages.
Thank you for your kind words.
All the best,
Deb
Deb,
so sorry to hear about the passing of your parents. And you are the legacy of beauty truth and clarity. And we are all wrestling.
Thanks Sam,
Sending you a big hug. :)
Deb