Nick and Legacies

I had to run into Evanston, Wyoming today to pick up a couple of things for my office. I had to stop to show my receipt to the the "greeter" (a euphemism for "gonna try and catch you stealing our crap") because a couple of the things were too big and heavy to put into bags, and so were just in my cart. He was very nice about it. I've seen this guy around before. We've exchanged light pleasantries on other occasions.



Once cleared, I dug in and started moving the heavy cart when the standard, parting "have a nice day" went from the mundane to the personal. As I was leaving he said "you look like the sort of guy who has nice days." Interesting. I had thought the same thing about him but just hadn't bothered to find a rhetorical formulation, so I told him so. We chatted a bit

He told me he'd been diagnosed with congestive heart failure some time before, and it had gotten pretty bad. But he'd survived, and since that time he'd had lots of good days. I couldn't help but feel that the quality of the days he'd had lately had more to do with his spirit than the way his body felt.

Nick (we shared names officially) told me that it was important to him that he leave some sort of legacy, in his children, with people he knew, maybe even with a stranger impressed by an act of kindness, so that when he was finally gone he wasn't really gone. And so Nick has ended up in this humble blog, for however long it lasts.

And a little bit of him has ended up in me.