Our legacies are passed down from one generation to another. The world is connected by stories, memories, traditions, dreams and hopes. Waxing philosophical I reflect on the legacies of my parents, grandparents, and other family members. What have I learned from the past? My feeling of security and continuity comes from knowing there were caring adults in my life. My legacy means developing and passing on a timeless part of me.
My love of music and languages are part of the legacies I inherited, and I passed on to my children. Also the love of travel and experiencing other cultures and countries. My father dabbled in woodworking as his hobby for most of his adult life. We still have and enjoy the various pieces of furniture which he carefully inscribed and dedicated to particular family members. Also with his name, John Niemczura, he added his title artisan and included the type of wood and stain he used. The fastidiousness and attention to detail are two qualities I learned early. He gifted many of his creations to various community groups in and around Pueblo, Colorado.
My mother’s talents besides music and writing beautiful poetry and prose included her beautiful sewing and garments she made us. One of her last gifts was a hand knit sweater with intricate roses knitted into the pattern. She encouraged us to read, write and create. Leaving a legacy does not have to have a fixed monetary amount. More personal and meaningful are handmade articles which we pass down from one generation to another.
During my college years in the US and in Germany, I was unaware that my parents saved all my letters I had written them. Each daughter had a large sized plastic trash bin brimming with our correspondence and photos we had sent them. As Goethe said, “Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.” After our parents had passed, one of my sisters destroyed all the letters our parents had saved. Someday I will open that plastic bin and peruse the letters written during my formative years. As I take stock of what I have done in the past and start thinking more of legacies, I realize the entire spectrum of human emotions which come into play: hope, fear, love, sense of accomplishment, disappointment, pride, joy, gratitude, and contentment. In the same spirit, we purchased a metal foot locker for each of our children and saved everything from newspapers and magazines on the day they were born to all sorts of school projects and report cards.
The memoir I wrote, A Past Worth Telling, the gifts of music and foreign languages and travel to many countries are included in my legacy. As part of a larger community, I am mindful of the history before me and after me. We all have shared wisdom to learn from one another. A large portion of my legacy was imparted to my students as I taught German over the years including video conferences and projects with schools in Germany.
Said Goethe, “Every day we should hear at least one little song, read one good poem, see one exquisite picture, and, if possible, speak a few sensible words.” What will your legacy be?
Who is that neat fellow at the piano? I think writing in any format-letters, poetry, blog posts, etc.- are memorials we leave behind for ourselves and others. It’s fascinating to read something we wrote years ago; it’s like reading an author that we know more about than any other.
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Oh, I believe you know the little guy playing his beautiful music. The written word can be very powerful and serves to convey many thoughts and emotions. You are also a great writer. I hope to see more of you in the future.
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That was interesting. You’re parents sounded very talented. I’m impressed by anybody who can make anything out of wood. My limit is hammering a nail into a wooden beam as a coat hanger. Can I just check one thing, though. When you say your sister destroyed all the letters, do you mean just the letters in her plastic trash bin? You still have your plastic trash bin, it seems from what you say next. Incidentally, why did your sister want to destroy the letters? I know people are all very different, but personally photographs and personal letters are things I can’t imagine ever destroying. Did she do it accidentally?
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Thanks for clarifying what I should have. The one sister chose to destroy HER letters only. That’s a story for another time. It was not by accident.
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I must say, I’m relieved that she didn’t destroy the lot. I’m sure I’d find looking at my old letters a bittersweet experience — funny, sad, surprising, probably embarrassing when I noticed all my typos in the days before spellcheck. It’s still something I would definitely want to do, though. 🙂
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Your comments are lively and make me smile. I think I will find some surprises in my letters sent from Germany and Europe years ago. Those were written in cursive and fountain pen! Lost arts today.
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It sounds like they’re probably works of arts to look at, never mind to read!
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You are most kind. Works of art come in all shapes and sizes. Time will tell what reveals itself in my plastic bin. I suppose you have given me impetus to open it and find the treasures inside. That will give rise to another book! 🙂
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Good luck! It sounds like an interesting project.
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One of many…:)
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I too could never imagine destroying personal letters and photographs which portray my own history. The written word is an important legacy to leave behind. I enjoy reading your blog as well.
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At some point of his retirement, my father decided he needed a work studio with tools to create his pieces of furniture, etc., so he made a plan for his work space and built it himself from the ground up! He had a ton of sand dumped in the driveway which he then loaded onto a wheelbarrow and wheeled to the backyard to pour the cement foundation. These were 14 hour days of back-breaking work. He also did the wiring. In his later retirement years, the Cub Scouts would come by his workshop and ask for wood scraps which my father loved to give them. He simply said to take what they wanted. Generous to a fault.
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If civilization ever collapses, it will be people like your father who rebuild it again. If it were left up to me, we’d all be living in caves for a very long time.
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Why how kind of you to say so. My father would smile and laugh with approval at your comment. A good, kind and strong man he was…
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Some lovely links to your past. The photos really help and find the Goethe quote amusing, blogging can help do that quite quickly!
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I’m glad you enjoyed the blog and photos. Blogging about themes from my book has turned into a fascinating hobby. I love the feedback from all over. Thanks for writing.
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