Loss and Legacy

Last Thursday, September 6, the great Madeleine L'Engle passed on at age 88. Her books figured in my childhood and rather more prominently in my adulthood. Her writing reflected her depth of contemplation and thought, which is what I most enjoyed. The plots were fun enough, some more than others, the characters were usually relatable, sometimes more fully-fleshed than others, but the real reason for reading her works is to enter into her thought processes. Reading the thoughts of someone who is thoughtful helps me to think and dream and contemplate. I'm glad that she left a great legacy that will not be lost.

Another hero of mine passed away this summer. Tommy Makem died on August 1 at age 74. I grew up listening to his music; my first instrument was the penny-whistle, inspired by the combination of his recordings and my parents' provision of the instrument. I had always looked on him as my own personal property in some way. He blended, in my childish mind, with the musicians that my father knew. I considered him a friend of the family, though I never met him; imagine my surprise when I discovered that he was a legend in the realm of Irish folk music! He inspired thousands and revived a dying art-form. That was a life worth living.

When I die, will my legacy be worth my years? I can't plan my days around making a lasting impact on generations to come; that's the wrong motivation. And I doubt that is how either of the folks began. The trick is to find what I must do today and do it; what I have trouble grasping with my finite mind is how I can do it for another fifty years. I have been told that I'm a "marathon runner," persistent, "in for the long haul." Hopefully, this indicates that my recurring desire to quit is buried well beneath my determination to finish the job. I wonder if other people share this battle between winning and running.