Episode Details

On this week’s installment of Monday Matters, Will Parker and Jen Schwanke have a conversation about leaving your legacy and making your mark. Some topics covered in the conversation are:

• Remembering that you will always be treasured by someone
• Treating other with dignity and respect – because they will remember that for a long time
• Knowing that our influence continues long after we are gone

Listen in to hear the full conversation! Below is a piece written by William D. Parker about the topics discussed in this episode:

Remembering Faces

by William D. Parker

The other day, I was in a thrift store in Stillwater, Oklahoma. My wife was looking for vinyl records, and I was perusing. Thrift stores are such fascinating places to discover antiques, trinkets, or little treasures—once beloved by someone else and now on the display table, surrounded by coffee mugs and hand-sewn quilts.

As I rounded a corner to step into another booth, I was struck by two portraits: framed paintings of two separate boys who looked like they could have posed sometime in the 1940s or 1950s. They were obviously brothers, and no description or writing explained who they were. The older boy looked like a teenager—his square jaw just beginning to take shape. His tightly cropped haircut, bow tie, and tan jacket gave his boyish look a certain elegance. But it was the expression on his face that captivated me. He wore a Mona Lisa-like expression—half grin, half nervous. His eyes peered into the artist’s face with probity and intelligence. At the same time, there was a hint of shyness and wonder.

His younger brother’s portrait was equally compelling but more haunting. He was a beautiful, blond-haired boy of seven or eight years old, dressed in a blue suit coat and a thin gray tie. His rosy cheeks and cleft chin gave him the look of a little man. It was his eyes, however, that pulled me into the painting—round, brown ovals with a riveting gaze that made you believe he would grow up to be successful, content, and loved.

The moment was uncomfortable for me because both paintings were obviously commissioned—the artist’s name was nowhere to be seen—yet these beloved boys, whose portraits once hung proudly on the walls of some grand home, were now sitting on the floor of an old thrift store in Stillwater, Oklahoma.

How many times had a mother or father peered at these portraits with affection? How many times had visitors to their home stopped to look with admiration? Had the boys grown up to go to war? Had they enrolled in a university or found meaningful work? Did they find love, have children, and leave a legacy for others to remember them by? Or were they tragically lost to illness, war, or heartbreak?

I’ll never know the answers to these questions. I think what made me feel sad was knowing that these once-treasured portraits were now forgotten. And this made me think about myself and the people whom I love.

How many years before my own face is no longer known? Will my own photos find their way to the trash heap or surprise some wanderer in a thrift store? Who will treasure the faces of my own children once I’m gone?

These kinds of thoughts would make me sad if I believed the value of those boys—or my own—was determined by the fate of where my memory lies after I’m dead. Instead, I have to take comfort in the following:

1. Like those boys, someone is treasuring you in the moment you are in. Whether it’s a close friend, a family member, or someone whose life you’ve influenced—today is the day to remember you are loved.
2. Each person deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. Just as you appreciate the kind words or gestures of others, someone needs to hear from you today and be reminded they are valued, ado