A legacy

What makes us real?

How is it that we know we really exist in this life? Is it what we are or what we do or what we have or what we say or who we love or what we give or all of that and some more? Or do we not become real until we leave and then what we left behind in the hearts and minds of others that makes us real because it's the evidence that we lived?

I work every day with people who fight battles, mainly battles with cancer. Either they have cancer or they had cancer or they love someone who has cancer or they've lost someone who they love who died from cancer. In any case, most of these people have been through a tremendous experience and I've noticed that no matter what, each one of them is trying to make sense of this life and somehow create a legacy that will live on. Whether they are striving to share their own story or the story of a loved one, it amazes me what poignant lessons people learn and then share for the world to have.

Here's one beautiful example that I just came across today:

Life of a Feather

Her name is Stacy and she died ten days after her last blog, which by the way, was full of hope, optimism and plans for a future. She talked about being able to read again and visiting Machu Picchu. Although she's now free of a cancerous body, those who knew and loved her are left wondering why and how they are going to reshape their lives without her. Does the fact that she's gone from this life make her existence in it all that more real?

There's so much to learn from absences. People joke about not knowing what you have till it's gone. It's true, for sure. But how sad, really. How many times have I wasted what I had because of ignorance or impatience? I want to know what I have while I have it so I can have joy and savor rare moments of bliss. I've all but wasted so many of those moments that no matter what, I won't be able to have again.

I suppose I could get really angry at myself, since I'm such a pro at that. I could probably spend the better part of every day being really pissed off because there's so much I've missed and given up without even knowing. But what good does that do, really? It just wastes more precious time, time that moves on no matter what.

Somehow I've got to find a way to turn that anger and discontent into action and commitment. Do and say the things that enhance and bless the lives of those around me and commit to give all I have to making each moment count. I feel like those are the kinds of things that create a legacy for others to have once we are gone. Those that I admire and miss the most (whether they have passed away or just left my life) were all pros at making moments count. It's with those high hopes, I have to begin to approach every day like it's a gift and live it to the fullest. Then, when I'm gone or when I'm left (because both of those things have and will happen), I'll have fewer regrets and more room in my heart for whatever comes next.

I think about Stacy, a girl I never met who died of cancer a week ago. Her blog tells of the ways in which she was striving to live life to the fullest even until the end. I'm sure her family and loved ones are glad that she lived and loved them and now has left them with a legacy of bravery and hope.

What legacy will I leave when I go? Will people's lives have been bettered because of me or in spite of me? I guess I'll just have to do my best and then wait until I'm not here to find out.