Beaven bought the video years ago when he went through a brief interest in fishing. Along
with the video he bought out the fishing department of the store and amassed a great collection of fishing gear without ever once doing any actual fishing. But that’s neither here or there. I’m talking about the video now.
The How to Catch Bass
video has earned the award within our family as The Most Boring video on
earth. I used to take it to lock-ins at
the church and never had anyone stay awake past the frog lure.
But while I was looking through the videos I found a couple
of home movies I had converted to VHS from old movie film.
Now, of course, I wish I had ALL of them converted. It would have
been great to review so many of the scenes I remember from my childhood. I think it only cost $10 a pop, which seems
so nominal today but astronomical 30 years ago when you consider that Beaven and
my Daddy made a LOT of home movies and I could barely find $20 to convert two
tapes.
The grands enjoyed watching their mom toddle around when she
was little. Emily accused us of
negligent parenting now that she runs a day care and is an expert on child
safety. She claims the slide she enjoyed so much as a child was entirely TOO
high and TOO dangerous. I think that might
have been to cover up the point that at age five she couldn’t master the
concept of speaking into a microphone.
She kept sticking it into her eye. This might have been our first clue
she had a touch of dyslexia.
Then we showed home movies of when I was a kid. That one was more fun for me to watch. I saw my mother and father, cousins, aunts
and uncles, and my grandparents. I kept
trying to get the girls interested in seeing their great-great-grandparents. And a cold reality set
in. Unless you are into genealogy,
people lose interest in their ancestors about three generations back.
Oh, yes, there is the occasional heroic figure in family
trees, the outlaw here and there or maybe even a silly outlandish aunt who left
stories behind; but for the most part we fade away in memories within three
generations.
Three generations.
That’s about all we have.
And what do we want to leave behind after we’re
gone? If we’ve got only three
generations, who will listen to us? What will we say to them and how?
The Stuart family had a farm on the outside of
Lancaster. I think E.G. Stuart was the
one to buy it or it might have been his father Elisha Stuart, the guy who
somehow managed to “resign” from the
northern army during the Civil War and move to Texas with all his Southern
sympathies.
Whenever my father and I went to the old farm
property Daddy always took me to the grove of pecan trees. And he told me the story of the day he helped
his grandfather plant the trees. “Ed,” my great-grandfather would say, “I’m not
planting these trees for myself. I will
never live to see them bear fruit. I’m
planting them for you and your children.”
With that story we span four generations. If I ever get a chance to take my
grandchildren to see the pecan trees (assuming they’re still alive) we will
have spanned six generations. We will
have doubled the amount of interest my home movies garnered.
There is another way to pass along our essence to the
future—an ethical will. Yes, dear ones, there is such a thing and the idea has been around for a long time. I have a book on the subject. It's called "Ethical Wills and How to Prepare Them" It's written by Jack Riemer and Nathaniel Stampfer.
An Ethical Will is a written document you leave behind after you die, just like a regular will except that instead of leaving real estate or money to relatives it explains the ethics you tried to live by in life and hope to pass along to your children. Instead of money you're leaving a reputation. You can’t guarantee anyone will actually pay attention but it’s worth a try.
An Ethical Will is a written document you leave behind after you die, just like a regular will except that instead of leaving real estate or money to relatives it explains the ethics you tried to live by in life and hope to pass along to your children. Instead of money you're leaving a reputation. You can’t guarantee anyone will actually pay attention but it’s worth a try.
What ethics would I leave my great-great-grandchildren? Off the top of my head here's a short list:
·
* Be honest to others. Pay your taxes. Pay your bills.
·
* Be honest with yourself. You’re not perfect, admit it. Change things you need to change. Get therapy
if you need it.
* Be humble.
* Be dependable
* Be humble.
* Be dependable
· * Love yourself even in the light of all your
imperfections·
* Be nice to others
* Pray often
*Listen for God to speak
* Be strong in adversity. Keep on keeping on.
I would leave them photos of my own grandparents with stories of how these ethics worked for them.
The photos of my grandmother, Bertha Kolb Kuhn on her 18th birthday doesn't give a clue that she would be widowed early, leaving her with two children to support and no money.
And finally, I would tell my great grandchildren to enjoy life. Here is Tom and Fannie Stuart on an outing with friends when they were young. It's my favorite photo of them because it looks like Granddaddy is about to grab her bottom.
Generations past, generations yet to come, meet each other every day in your life and mine. It is up to us to leave a legacy worth passing along. Plant a tree.
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