Heritage

I want to write something about my father out of respect and love for him. It isn’t easy to do so without feeling somewhat hypocritical because I have not been very close to him, geographically speaking, since leaving home in 1965. This estrangement puzzles me because my father had always set an example of an honest, loving and kind, integrity that was never a reason for me to stay at such a distance my whole adult life. Frankly, I left home to find my fortune… and when I failed at that again and again… time rolled out and away the years.

When we pass, we leave a heritage of a life well lived or one of no consequence whatsoever. There are those who would have mausoleums built in their honor to secure a place marking their spot here for as long as possible. Life is a pissing game for some… marking territory… and death is but an extension of the pissing game played all of our lives. Libraries, foundations, endowments, pyramids (great and small)… all left to live on. Folks like my father left a heritage without having to go through all of that nonsense. It is a heritage of the simplicity of love that is passed on through his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and so on and on… so much greater than any monument of stone. I am most certainly blessed to live and to do my best to pass on his wealth of virtue… our family’s inheritance.

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