What's left when you die

What's your legacy? Who do you want to be? How do you want to live?

A therapist once asked me these questions, and I wrote them down where I would see them every day. At the time I didn't have answers, but I didn't want to forget them, didn't want to lose sight of them, or let myself off the hook for their answers.

Today marks one year since the passing of my dear friend Omar. Omar Brown. Thirty-one years old, Jamaican, a hater of snow (I use the word "hater" lightly because Omar didn't hate anyone or anything), a lover of music and laughter and quality, low-key times with friends, a teacher down to his core. Omar was one of the most chill people I know, but when he spoke with you, he was fully present and in that way he was very intense. There are many parts to who he was but... what is his legacy? What did he leave behind?

What he left me was the way he walked with Jesus Christ. Although I am a cradle Catholic, born and bred in a family of cradle Catholics, I confess that I have raised more than one eyebrow when confronted with Omar's level of faith. I always loved him and wanted to believe him, but there was also always a fraction of cynicism, of doubt, of judgment that I immediately tried to stamp out (because we're supposed to believe). Even in my skepticism, he impressed me. The way he reached people regardless of beliefs, the way he redirected his life over and over because he felt called, moving forwards without certainty, the way he lived faithfully. Now I honor his memory by trying to answer my own call more faithfully, trying to redirect myself more willingly, to let things fall away in the service of a future. I ask Omar to help me do it. That is his legacy. Not bad, huh?

What will mine be? And yours?

We get one life, and none of us know the time of our final curtain call. What is your legacy?

Love you, O

#redoutfitlife #legacy #death #purpose #yolo #inmemoriam #mementomori #faith