epitaphs

Our travels around the North Country brought us to the church parking lot an hour early. (We were there for Sergi's pizza and our annual Missions Night.) #1 Son had slide-shows to cue up, and #1 Daughter begged to visit the local library. Oh yeah, she loves books and all, but the real draw was the knowledge that three of her best friends were hanging out there. About library-visits, my kids know this: no begging necessary. Never mind that we had just spent a few hours in the local museum and their archive center; books lure me. Anytime, anywhere.

I hoisted a few old volumes over to an oak table. The thickest, most monastary-ish one was full of musty brittle pages and contained entry after entry of biographical sketches. Their dates spanned from 1870 to 1900, and these entries spouted the accomplishments of esteemed North Country men and their families. This one was a statesman, this one was a successful farmer. Their surnames were researched, their real estate holdings and names of spouses and children were listed, and even their church attendance noted. Occasionally, a character trait was pointed out: honest, chaste, compassionate, fair in business, devoted to family, or hard-working. Some of the items were very personal. This one saved two children from drowning. This one lost all his children to infuenza. Another fought bravely in the Civil War. I wondered about all these good folk -are they remembered at all? Or are the traces of their lives hidden only in forgotten books and in tumble-down cemeteries?

This musing inevitably led me down that neglected path....the one we ponder usually only at funerals or memorial services: What will I leave behind? What will be my legacy? Hmmm.

Can I chew on that for a day or so, and get back to y'all?