When I’m gone, you’ll need love

Legacy. An interesting word, yes? A gift left in a will, a bequest; something handed down from the past, such as the legacy of ancient Egypt.

I was taken in finding a crafted box with a clasp, in my china hutch as I was cleaning things out. I opened the box, to find it lined with a silky fabric, and therein a thick book with a warm brown leather cover. In opening the cover, I see my grandmother’s name, M. Dessein, embossed in gold on the page and the date of 28 Mai 1908. It is a prayer book, in French.

Beautiful pictures, a ribbon marking a page, small prayer cards in various pages. Also in the crafted box, two hand-written letters. Neither had dates, however, they referenced a trip to France. One written in French from my grandmother’s sister and one in English from my grandfather. My grandfather Alfred, who died seventeen years before I was born. Grandpa Alfred. He signed the letter ‘your lover.’ Grandmere made a trip from Seattle to her birthplace in Langres, France in 1927 with her firstborn child, my mother, Josette. Grandmere was anxious to see her family again and introduce them to her beautiful three-year-old daughter. There is much to be said there, however, back to my topic.

Grandmere’s prayer book. Photo MDessein

Do you think about the legacy you are leaving and will leave? And to who?

“So lately, been wonderin’, who will be there to take my place? When I’m gone, you’ll need love, To light the shadows on your face.”

So in my going through my little hall closet, which a water leak in the wall has forced me to do, I find the Wedding Anniversary memory album of my parents’ 40th anniversary in 1984. Quite the shindig, to be sure. It was at my house, I made a triple-decker wedding cake for them, a soft orange with deep orange trim. Twas a beaut, if I say so myself.

Do I throw that album away? A lot of the people in the pictures are long passed away. My two children live in other states, my son was two at this event and my daughter wasn’t born yet. Is it part of their legacy?

Ah, when I am gone, my children in their 60’s (!) looking back – at memorabilia, their lives, their children, perhaps grandchildren. What am I leaving them? Is it already a done deal?

“If a great wave should fall, It would fall upon us all. And between the sand and stone, Could you make it on your own?”

I wish I could ask my mom questions, ask my dad what he would do differently. Ask my grandparents what they think I ought to do next. Ask my great-grandparents how they would approach a huge life change.
Have you had similar wishes?

“And maybe, I’ll find out, The way to make it back someday. To watch you, to guide you, through the darkest of your days.”

Is my legacy a combination of what was left to me to now pass on? Is it how I raised my kids and therefore all done? Is it how I have moved through the world and helped others? Made a difference? Protected someone? Or simply when I held the door for that family at the Post Office?

“Runaway with my Heart. Runaway with my Hope. Runaway with my Love. I know now, just quite how, My life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind, I’ll stay with you for all of time.”

This song I’ve been singing to you is “Wherever You Will Go” written in 2001 by Aaron Kamin, guitarist and co-founder of the band, The Calling. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlMLzg7ZKYw. A great song
It speaks to me of legacy, love, and support.

My mortality has been brought to mind by finding all kinds of family artifacts and the people who once used and lived with them. I haven’t got this figured out. Yet I know my father loved roses and Mom loved raspberries. So do I.