All We Are and Shall Be

Today was one of those winter days when it's still and the high clouds are a sign of a weather change. These type of days seem to give me long moments of introspection, which led to thoughts about legacies.

I was thinking of a great-grandfather. He was probably born after the end of the Civil War, so his father lived during the war. He had a farm in Illinois that was considered huge at the time. At 180 acres, it required the entire family to help with the chores. My grandfather, for whatever reason, left to fight the first World War and eventually ended up on the Gulf Coast. He didn't stay to inherit the farm. I never knew the reason he chose the path he chose. He never said and I never asked. He's gone, so the question will remain unanswered forever.

Anyway, back to legacies: my great-grandfather's final legacy was his farm was sold after his death and the house that held so many memories was bulldozed. All that is left of him and his children are a few pieces of furniture and memories that will become substantially thinner after my demise. Time will progress and only dust will remain. The summation of generations will be as inconsequential as a limb falling from a tree on a windy afternoon.

In a way, it all fits, but in another, it makes me realize that I need to pass something on to future generations. I don't want to fade away forever after a short conversation at a future family gathering. I don't exactly know what to do, but I'm thinking writing will be the path. Maybe a book, or a collection of memories to give to heirs. Who knows, but it's time to get started.