Note: I originally wrote this in my weekly letter – Fident Friday – a year and a half ago. This resonates so deeply within me I wanted to bring it to the public.
A friend of mine died this week, rather unexpectedly. His name is David, and even though we only saw each other a few times a year, the news hit me hard. Bear with me for a few minutes to give some context.
…..
Every year my family takes at least one week-long trip to the Outer Banks, NC. We’ve been doing this on my side of the family for over a decade, and more recently started going with my wife’s side as well.
In the summer of 2013 while vacationing with her side of the family, my wife and I, along with our two kids at the time, left the vacation house and drove to see the sunset across the sound on Tuesday evening. While at a day beach parking lot area, our then-year-and-a-half old son began obsessing with two motorcycles that were parked near us. As I somewhat embarrassingly apologized to the couple who owned them, they laughed and said it was absolutely fine and even invited our son to sit on the seats.
This was David, and his wife, Dana.
We struck up a conversation and discovered they’ve both lived most of their lives in the Outer Banks, and so I asked them what was one thing that locals like themselves think that non-locals like us should do to fully experience the OBX. Fishing obviously came up, and I said I hadn’t done it because we have young kids – and that chartering a boat was both time intensive and expensive. David completely agreed it was crazy expensive and tough with kids – and then asked how long we were going to be staying down there. I told him a week, and he then offered to take us out on his own boat, free of charge.
Just wanted to bless us.
Somewhat shocked, we exchanged phone numbers as a thunderstorm rolled in and he said he’d call me later with more details. I fully expected never to hear from him again.
On Thursday he called – and said tomorrow was going to be great weather and we should go out. I told him there’d be 4 of us guys, if that’s ok – and he said great, to meet him at the local marina.
I hopped online to gauge how much a chartered boat would cost us, planning on giving David at least a portion of that for his time, and then my brothers-in-law and I stopped for cash at an ATM and grabbed our North Carolina fishing licenses. We met up with David, and went clamming, caught some bait fish, waded in the sound, and went fishing for Puppy Drum. It was amazing. We were probably on the water for 5 hours, maybe more. As we pulled back into the marina I started to say how we wanted to compensate David for his time – or for the very least his fuel. He flatly said no, he just wanted to show us a good, local, OBX time on the water.
While the others were helping to secure the boat to the trailer, I secretly stashed the cash we brought with us in David’s truck while he wasn’t looking.
He called me shortly after we departed and he had found it – saying that he wished I hadn’t had done that, wished that I hadn’t “Robbed me of my future heavenly blessing” and that the next time we’re down in the OBX he wants to take us out again and refuse any payment. I told him we’re actually coming back down in a few months, and we’ll connect again but that I indeed want to pay. Sure enough, later that summer he took us out again.
Over the years we ended up meeting with David most of the trips that we’ve gone down to the Outer Banks. And each time he reminded me that he won’t accept any payment. He’s taken my kids, my dad, my brothers-in-law, and my wife out on that boat. My wife and I celebrated my 30th birthday in the boat, cruising in the sound watching the sunset with David and Dana. Our conversations deepened beyond small talk – to faith, family, vocation, philosophy of living simply, of living rightly. We had him and Dana over for dinner on different occasions and heard their life story and how they approach and live life.
I could continue this story for pages, but I’ll get to my point: David left a profound, deep impact on my life in a very limited amount of total engagement. He modeled generosity in practical ways that I’ll never forget. He modeled contentment, forfeiting working hours to show us a good time. He struck up conversation with complete strangers – tourists, even! – and simply wanted to bless people.
And now he’s passed from this life – quickly and unexpectedly. But his Legacy – to me, let alone his family and those even closer to him – lives on.
Forever.
How he lived his life, lives on past his life.
…..
Most of the times when we talk about leaving a “Legacy” we mean some type of financial inheritance. And there’s nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but of infinite more importance is the Legacy we’ll leave behind of who we were to those around us.
Generous, or greedy.
Selfish, or selfless.
Faithful, or faithless.
Friendly, or hardhearted.
Content, or ever-wanting.
Family-first, or career-first.
What do you want to be known for after you’re gone, since human beings currently have a 100% mortality rate? Are you projecting those values now – or are you, like me sometimes, “waiting until ________” to start demonstrating them?
Life is short, and it’s unpredictable.
Our resources, our money, our assets, our time are all tools that demonstrate what we value most highly. How we use them shows others – positively or negatively – what’s important to us. And that’s what they’ll remember.
Craft your Legacy carefully, because you don’t know when it’s going to start.