Have you ever thought about what your legacy will be? Two, ten, twenty years after you are gone, when someone says your name, what will be the first thought people have of you?
I faced the reality of my legacy this weekend:
Saturday, while at my son’s wrestling tournament, I thought I would be funny and run to the concession stand to cut off one of the wrestlers that we have known for years. What I failed to realize was that every Gatorade, water, or soda, carried away from the concession counter leaves a trail of ice water in its wake.
The moment my foot hit the wet tile, I plunged to the ground, completed a horizontal slide across the floor, and crashed into the wall directly below the concession stand counter. Now, in my mind, all of this was executed with as much grace and dignity as a grown woman careening out of control and slamming into a wall could achieve.
Then, I made the mistake of looking up and came face to face with the poor boy I had run in front of. Seeing the massive 230 pound wrestler, who moments ago dropped a man on his head and pinned him to the ground without batting an eye, look down at me with an utterly horrified expression on his face, quickly dispelled any residual dignity I was clinging to.
Now, after telling this story to one of my friends, her immediate response was: “My goodness! You fall more than anyone I know”. There it is, folks. Long after I’m gone, when my name is whispered in reverent hushed tones, it will be followed with: “she fell more than anyone I knew.”
Furthermore, I realized that there is nothing I can do to change my fate. I could give this world the cure to cancer, or the next technological superpower and it would not alter my course. Because, let’s face it, even a brilliant man like Steven Jobs would be remembered as that klutzy guy, if he couldn’t walk across a stage without eating it.
wifemotherwonderwoman 