Legacies

My grandfather died on June 23, 1943 about 12 years before my birth. By profession, he was a dentist; by hobby he enjoyed his 'white lightning' on a regular basis. Other than a few bent photographs and an abandoned dental office, there was very little I knew of the man.

However, I was reminded today through chance meeting that the things we do on any given day shape the opinions of those we impact in a way that may extend well beyond our lifetime. While eating lunch today, I caught a glimpse of a person who had visited my life group class at church a few weeks ago. Leaving the restaurant I stopped by her table to say hello and was introduced to her parents. Her parents, as it turned out, lived in a small town just south of where my grandfather lived and worked in his dental practice. As it often done in the south, our initial conversation explored who our relatives were looking to establish 'kinfolk' relationships or at least a shared basis of relations. After tossing out the name of my grandmother and a couple of aunts without any recognition, I paused for a moment, then told the older gentleman that my grandfather had been a dentist. He immediately asked for my last name again and was surprised to know that Alfred was both my grandfather and his mother's dentist. As I stood there thinking how interesting it was to always find common acquaintances in the south, he began relay the story of the last time his mother saw the dentist (my grandfather). Alfred pulled the wrong tooth. So, for 65 years his legacy, at least in the mind of this one person, is captured in that single event - pulling the wrong tooth.

Moral of the story is simply this, be kind, be fair, and be gentle to everyone you meet. You never know who may be telling your life's story after you're gone.