How will you be remembered, precious?
I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about my legacy, about how I’ll be remembered, about the good I will have done that will outlive me.
It’s a really useful exercise, from time to time, to meditate on this very thing, to review your values (and compare them to your actions!), so that in each now moment you can choose what you do, what you say, even what you feel and think, so that everything you choose to do, say, feel and think is in alignment with your best and highest values.
The last time I spent some time on this topic, this is what I wrote:
I want to leave a legacy of:
- spreading generosity
- having been generous and loving
- having been funny and smart and interesting
- having been a good friend and a great mother, daughter and sister
Last week I invited my daughter, my sister and some other cherished friends over for my world-famous matzo brei
I do this every year. I’ll confess, this is the only Jewish food I have learned to make. The Jewish food I was brought up with is heavy, and doughy and made of lots of things I no longer eat. Matzo brei is all of that, and it’s also incredibly delicious. It’s traditional to make matzo brei during Passover season (which just ended), and I’ve been doing this, with and for my daughter, for many years.
My daughter drove 100 miles to join in the feast and fun. I sent her home with all the leftovers (that was all the wheat and dairy and sugar I needed to put in my body). The next day she texted and asked for the recipe. (More about this, including the recipe, in last week’s blogpost here.) Rose made her first matzo brei, sending me pictures along the way. It came out great, she said. And you know what made me kvell* with joy the most? She told me how squeezing the water out of the matzo brought back memories of standing by my side, as a little kid, and helping me make the batter.