A while back, I recall holding my grandad’s tasbih (equivalent to rosemary beads). It used to hang in my grandma’s house in the kitchen until she gave it to us. To me, it was just really dusty, I remember thinking about whether anyone actually touched it since his passing. I didn’t really have any connection to it because my grandad passed away a long time go, when I was too young to form memories. But to my mum, just holding it reminded her of everything about her father. I know immortality is non-existent (in this life anyway), but even though my grandad was gone, he wasn’t gone in the minds of those who loved him.
There was this realisation that whenever people recall their loved ones, rarely are facts about their lives remembered. Maybe the odd description here and there. But what is reminisced most is the character they radiated: how much they loved, how much they hurt, how people felt around them, the qualities they had as a person. A reminder to me that it isn’t wealth nor status which is defines the legacy we leave but who we are and how we lived.
If there’s one certainty in life, it’s death. No one likes talking about it. Even I find it uncomfortable. But it’s true. No one can determine how long we live. But what we can determined is what we do with every single second of which we are blessed to take another breath. Those seconds themselves are finite but the impact and the legacy – they’re infinite.
Your legacy is yours to make so make those moments count.