Summer Hours

What will my legacy ultimately be when I drift in to the quiet silence of non-existence?  As a father of three I can only assume that if I live long enough I will become a patriarchal figure for a network of families with their own motivations and passions and  I’m sure a few of them will be caught up in the triviality of short-sighted needs that will trump their sense of family history.  The guitar that I was playing when my future wife first realized that she was in love with me might be worth a few quick bucks despite the pricelessness of its sentimental value and someone might decide it would be best to sell it rather than let it rot away in an attic somewhere.  I wouldn’t be able to fault them as I know precisely the kind of pressures that drive this type of myopia as I am weighed down by them every day.  Only those lucky enough to get through the spiritual compromise needed to ensure the stability of a young family are afforded the license to seek noble truths and pursuits more enriching than the acquisition of money.

It isn’t as though I don’t recognize the ignoble nature of grinding through daily life trying to secure the next dollar at the cost of my ability to properly express my love and appreciation to all of those that brought me in to this world.  I am driven by the internal sense of duty to my wife and children and ensuring their well-being is the overarching focal point of my existence.  Combine this all encompassing motivation with my introverted nature and it makes it difficult to stop and appreciate the legacy of those before me.  Despite their faults and deeply human flaws they did bring me in to this world and brought me far enough along to be able to raise a family of my own and for that I am deeply indebted.

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