Sunday Sermonizing: What A Father (or a Mother) Leaves Behind
My friend is a ghostwriter.
He is writing the story of a man who lived through a bygone time and era that would be forgotten — but for this book.
This is something I think about often these days. Probably because of crossing the far-side of 50. My grandfather lived through the second world war and actually fought in the Korean conflict. My mom and dad would remember Vietnam. My parent’s experiences during a tumultuous time in the world are set in the northern portions of the US. Renee’s parents have their stories to tell having lived through them in the South.
Both have different stories to tell of the same period. Both with different perspectives, but important stories to pass on.
We would do well to listen better.
We don’t think about the history connected to our own lives all that much. I don't. In 2012 Florence Green of England died at 110. She was the last surviving World War 1 veteran in the world. World War 2 veterans are dying off at something like 360+ per day.
My generation has experienced our own wars, but not at the scale of previous ones. We have seen is the global technology revolution. When I was a kid we had a rotary dial telephone and black and white TV. The next generation has no idea. We now complain if we find ourselves in an old 4G network.
Today, I’m publishing to a globally connected database of information from my a handheld phone that has more computing power than the machines that put people on the moon.
Times, they are a-changing. Times, they have indeed changed.
Legacy is important. Everyone leaves physical assets. Whether a billion dollar estate or hoarded piles of Sports Illustrated magazines (or, in some cases, both).
But maybe the most important legacies for any of us are the stories. Each of us is a bit of history. A legacy of character, courage, and faith. I know this is what I've received.