Ripples

A few weeks ago, I went back to my boyhood stomping grounds of Western Massachusetts for a visit. It was a gorgeous weekend--crisp and clear, and the fall colors were on full display. I borrowed a kayak for an afternoon, and I spent it fishing on a quiet little lake, with not another soul in sight.

Among me and my brothers, I was the one who most shared my father’s passion for fishing, and it was one of the very few chances I had to spend time with him alone. He died nine years ago, right around this time of year, and I find my thoughts returning to him often, these days.

Recently, I saw a picture of myself leaning over a just-caught fish with my reading glasses on, and if I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn it was a photo of my dad. It made me think of all the ways he lives on in me, and in his other children and grandkids. The ripples of his life are still reverberating, and they’ve spread even wider since he died.

When a loved one passes on from this life, we go through a passage of a different kind. They leave behind a void, and we have to figure out how to fill it. My memories of my father are almost all positive, but some legacies are much more complicated.

The hardest losses are the ones that leave us with unfinished business. Still, we always have a choice. When someone we love dies, it’s up to us to decide which parts of them we carry forward and which parts we leave behind. In that way, we’re responsible for the way they live on.