What It Means to Live Well

(Saying goodbye to my Grandpa)

I buried my grandpa a few weeks ago.

He lived to 98, and spent 70 years married to my Grandma. He was healthy and vibrant until the end of his life, and he passed away surrounded by love. There’s a lot to envy about my Grandpa’s life.

And there’s a lot to admire, too. He saved a boy from drowning when he was just in high school, and he served in World War 2. He founded an engineering company that helped make bridges safer all over Illinois, and he helped design the Dixon arch¹. He traveled the world, and had albums stuffed with photos from his adventures. Along with my Grandma, he helped organize a social group of lifelong friends. And of course, he helped raised three great kids and modeled to them how to raise their grandkids.

In some ways, it’s sad to reflect on everything he did in his life, because so much has faded over time. The boy he saved in high school passed away twenty years ago. The engineering company he founded has been sold.

But the parts that faded don’t really matter, compared to all that has endured.

The boy he saved grew to be a man with a family of his own. His kids and grandkids never met my Grandpa, might have never heard his name. But they got to live because of him.

So did the people who drove over bridges that didn’t fail, because Grandpa’s inspections made sure they were safe.

So do I, of course. And not just in the sense where my Dad created me, and my Grandpa created him. But in the sense where my Dad shaped me, in the way that my Grandpa shaped him.

During the funeral, people talked about the traits they admired in my Grandpa - how he was always there when you needed him, how he was a calm and patient teacher, how he was devoted to his wife. These are traits I see in my Dad. And these are traits that I want others to see in me.

My Grandpa never knew the total impact he had on the world. None of us do.

If we did, it would stagger us.

Every gift you gave to the world - every act of love, every moment of connection, every use of our talents - every single one matters. Every one has the chance to change someone’s life.

And I’m not talking about big impressive things like saving a life. Every time you show up for someone else, you change their life.

Grandpa did a lot of big, impressive things. But he never focused on that. Instead, he focused on the people in his life. He wanted to make memories with his friends. He wanted to love and guide his kids.

Most of all, he wanted to be with Grandma, and make her happy.

And he did.

Together, they filled countless moments with love. And each happy moment Grandpa spent with Grandma changed her life, and each happy moment Grandma spent with Grandpa changed his life.

It’s true that those moments are over now. That’s sad, but it’s okay. All moments end. What matters is what we do with the moments that we have.

We might not have the opportunity to save a life like Grandpa did. But we all have the opportunity to live our lives like Grandpa did.

Grandpa lived a life of love. He chose to give the people around him as many moments of happiness and connection as he could. That, more than anything else, is his legacy.

May it be ours, too.

1. https://www.landmarks.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Dixon-MemorialArch-7432.jpg