I’ve spent many years researching my family history. I can lose hours exploring old documents, finding evidence of my ancestors; their names, where they lived and when, what work they did and perhaps even a photo. The joy of putting a long-gone face to a name never diminishes.
When a branch of the tree ends, with no record of a marriage or children, I consciously look for my female ancestors who seem to be childless, making sure I notice them. I find out what I can about them, although it can be difficult when most historical records are of births and marriages. I wonder if they wanted to have children or if they chose to remain childless. I hope they found happiness and fulfilment in their lives and didn’t live with shame or sadness.
Does the fact that I have “found” them and added them to my tree mean they now have a legacy? Maybe that places too much significance on my attempts to identify my ancient relatives, but I like to think they might have been pleased to know that their name is recognised a few hundred years after they lived.
But go back two generations or more and there is not much to show for these lives, apart from a few faded photos and some handwritten documents. There are a few letters, which give a picture of a moment in time: some wedding cards and funeral notices: a couple of newspaper articles. Do these count as legacy? Not really.
Whether they had children or not, no-one now remembers what most of these people did, but that doesn’t suggest that they didn’t live worthwhile, interesting, meaningful lives. Or perhaps they didn’t. In fact, the most clearly defined legacies of any of my ancestors are the documents that record one as a murderer who was transported to Australia and another who was fined for battering his wife! Surely not a legacy anyone would choose to leave!
I guess what I’m saying, is that I’m not sure leaving a legacy actually matters. My ancestors lived, worked, loved, celebrated, survived, struggled and died. They no doubt had values and strengths, flaws and weaknesses; Their lives mattered, yet a couple of generations down the line, no one knows or remembers them.
So, when we worry about leaving a legacy – or not, because we are childless – does it really matter? Does this worry come from our fear that no one will care when we die rather than what people will remember about us in years to come.
Perhaps the most useful thing about considering legacy is that it might encourage us to be reflective, to build positive relationships, to live according to our values and to find meaning and purpose. Children or no children, these things are all attainable and will make us happy and fulfilled in the here and now.
So, I’m going to create a legacy by being the person I want to be while I’m alive. Once I’m dead, it won’t concern me anymore!