“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.” ~ Pericles (sorta)*
When my brother died, one of my coping mechanisms (after 1. red wine and 2. blowing out the speakers in my minivan listening to very angry music) was digging into our family genealogy.
One of my favorite discoveries was that, near as we can tell, Herald founder Mr. Lyttle came from the same part of Ireland as our family, around the same time. In the words of “Miss Congeniality” Gracie Hart, aka Gracie Lou Freebush, “How bizarro is that?!”
My several-times-great-grandfather, a flax farmer, died unexpectedly, leaving his wife and eight—eight!—children to fend for themselves.
From what we can piece together, they came to America in two groups: first, some of the older children with the little ones, and then their mother with the rest.
It always blows my mind to think that those decisions, and that exact chain of events, led me to this very spot—eating entirely too much chocolate and crying about things that probably don’t matter, like a wiener dog being rescued from a storm drain by a group of Meekerites working together.
Then again, the fact that any of us exists at all is pretty amazing. Every one of us is the product of an almost impossible sequence of people meeting, leaving, staying, loving, surviving and carrying on.
In another season of death, dying and change in my personal life, I have once again found myself reflecting on all those who came before us—people whose actions, in one way or another, shaped our present reality in ways we cannot begin to fully understand.
This week, I am grateful not only for my family ancestors, but for my Herald ancestors as well, including Mrs. Leota Cook. I only met her a few times, but she was always encouraging and kind and motivated us to keep going, week in and week out.
From the Lyttles, to the Cooks, to the Bettises, to my mom Niki, and to everyone else who has done their part, however large or small: Thank you from the bottom of my ink-stained little heart.
I hope our generation gets the chance to leave a legacy, too.
*“Sorta” because Pericles expressed the idea, but probably not in these exact, highly quotable words.