2012

Okay, so I have spent some time the past few days reflecting. I think we all do. One year ends, another one starts. What have we learned from the past year? What do we have to look forward to in the next year? What do we "resolve" to do differently, better? What should we leave behind?

Mix in to that some feelings I have been having about legacy. What is my legacy? What should it be? Maybe 38 is too young to think about my legacy. Maybe its too late? I dont think I know yet. I was driving the other day when two songs came on. It just so happened they came on after I had talked to my wife about how it is usually easier to do the wrong thing than the right thing. She is right after all. Think about it. How much easier would it be to do the wrong thing then by trying to live your life doing the right thing?

So in that frame of mind, I heard "Good Life" by One Republic. Its a good song. Anyway, one line goes "Sometimes there's bullshit that don't work now." That pretty much sums up my 2011. But the song ends "What there is to complain about." And they are right. 2011 was full of bullshit. I put up with what felt like more than my fair share. But, despite the mess, the problems, the idiots, the people who think their shit doesn't stink, I feel like there is little to complain about. I am healthy - relatively. I have a family that is mostly healthy. I have a little girl who has me wrapped around her finger. I have three boys who, despite all of their issues, are good kids who are growing up in a time that I don't know we fully understand. I have a wife who loves me despite all of the nonsense I put her through. I have friends who have been supportive and understanding. I have a house, a job, and transportation. I have food. I know that puts me somewhere above the bottom 50% of people in socio-economic terms. I know I have friends with wives who are sick, jobs that are not guaranteed, and homes that they have lost.

So after that, Evanescence came on. I know people discuss the meanings of songs all the time. This song, to me, makes me think of my dad. There isn't a line I can point to, but a general sense that makes me think of the loss of my dad. I think its this "And I held your hand through all of these years." For years, I would hold my dad's hand to steady him, to help him stand up, to walk him through some place. Now, I can't hold his hand anymore. I can't steady him, I can't help him stand up. I don't have that option. And, it sucks. It makes me sad. It makes me cry.

Where does that leave me? Whats my legacy? What was my parents legacy? Did they leave one? Is it me? Is it my brother? I don't know. I think my dad would tell you that his legacy was raising three kids who turned out to be decent people. Even if I don't talk to my brother, even if we don't see eye to eye, I think my dad would tell you he is a decent person. But I don't really know. We never got a chance to talk about it.

I think my mom would tell you that her legacy was my brother. Yep, I am pretty sure of it. He had the option of moving himself to San Diego when she got sick. I didn't. He had the ability to take her to her doctor's appointments. From my mom's perspective, he was the good son. Hell, not just from her perspective. Her sister, her sister's husband, my dad's brother and his wife, my brother, my cousins, the Rabbi who presided over the funeral. Hell, some of her friends probably think that. I know they do. Of course, none of those people know that while she was sick and needed her strength to fight cancer (by the way, Dear Cancer, still fuck you, Sincerely, me), I protected her from things that would have distracted her. I didn't tell her the details of my family's life that would have made things more difficult for her. I didn't tell her all of the bullshit I had going on. Why? Because that was the decision I made. And whether right or wrong, whether anyone agrees with me or not, that was my decision. And I don't regret it at all. Not one single bit. So, she may be right and her legacy may be my brother. But I know she would have done the same thing in my position.

But what is their legacy? My dad did a lot of good in his professional life. But at what price? It probably contributed to his Parkinsons - or maybe its easier for me to think that way then think of the alternative. It sure made it so he took more medication. He traveled and missed events, maybe not the major ones, but lots of other life events. He provided financially for his family. But I don't think that is it. My mom, who didn't work most of my life, provided a stable home. She took care of the 3 of us.

I just don't know the answer. I do know that all of this thinking has left me wondering what my legacy would be. If I died tomorrow, would anyone remember me for anything beyond my family and friends? And what would they think of me? Good dad? Good husband? Loudmouth who talked more than most people? I don't know. I have never asked and don't plan on it. (And no, don't post a comment telling me what you think. I don't really want to know that badly.)

So, I want to leave a legacy. I want something to leave behind that one day someone will say "He left the world just a little bit better than it was when he found it." I think I know what it is too.

Ever read those feel good articles in Sports Illustrated or Time or some other magazine? You know, once a year or twice a year they will write a story about some kid who avoided gangs while playing football or a girl who inspired her teammates before dying. Its always a feel good piece, a tear jerker. We all like those stories, but do we hear enough about them? Probably not.

So, my goal for 2012, is a 64 feel good stories about real people. Stories you don't hear anywhere else. Stories that aren't being told by NBC or ABC or Time or Sports Illustrated or your local newspaper. 64? How did I come up with that? One story a week for 52 weeks plus a longer one per month for 12 months. That's right. 64 stories. I need your help. Email me or post a comment and tell me about someone whose story should be told. Who has inspired you or made a difference? Who has overcome an obstacle, not cutting off an arm to live while rock climbing, but some other obstacle? What stories do you want to hear? That will be my legacy.