A few weeks ago, I received an email from my cousin, Donna. My dear, 93 year-old Uncle Don was on his final days, heading into hospice. In her email, she shared that she’d just had a special morning with my uncle, talking about his life, and that in his final message to the family, he wished us all the best and much success.
True to his character, I thought. He died the way that he lived, true to his values, with care, class and thoughtfulness and, as always, having the last word.
The best legacy that we can leave behind is that of a life well-lived. To set an example for those left behind that aging doesn’t mean fading into oblivion—it means rising to the top of our game and living the best life that we possibly can.
Instead of measuring success in achievements, bank accounts, status, all the traditional standards, what if we measured it in adventures lived, passions pursued, risks taken, boundaries broken or impact made?
What if our later years were the ones in which we felt the most alive? What if our goal was to leave no part of ourselves behind and no part of our lives unlived or unfulfilled? What if success meant being able to lie on our deathbed and feel deeply satisfied with the life we had lived?
I know that my uncle felt that way.
It’s a goal that we need to be be thinking about long before the end of our days, as my uncle clearly had. The path of his life has left a trail of breadcrumbs and clues as to how to reach the same end.
My uncle’s obituary speaks eloquently of his life and character, of a man who lived true to the values of his small town roots, was actively engaged in helping his community and clients and deeply devoted to his family. He reveled in the outdoors, particularly puttering and adventuring around the beloved family cottage in northern Ontario. He worked hard, building a flourishing and well-respected law firm in Markham, ON that still bears his name. He played just as hard too - skiing, traveling, boating, golfing, playing tennis and, most essentially, stopping the day at 5 pm for cocktail hour.
He knew his priorities and he lived them every day. He liked to live large and he had a ton of fun along the way.
When my Aunt Chris, his wife, died in 2022, I flew to ON for her Celebration of Life. My brother, sister and I were seated at a table with a man who’d been a client of my uncle…for more than 60 years! We listened attentively with pride, respect and admiration as this man spoke fondly and highly of our uncle. He’d been a client for the duration of my uncle’s career, which ended when my uncle finally retired at the age of 88.
He loved his work and, in turn, he was loved, valued and well-respected for giving it his all.
When my sister Ann passed away two years ago, Uncle Don, then 90 years old, flew from his home in Collingwood, ON to Calgary, AB to attend her Celebration of Life. The inevitable slowing down that comes with age wasn’t going to stop him from paying his respects.
My uncle was an accomplished orator. A great storyteller with a sharp wit, he could masterfully string together stories, jokes and anecdotes. A maestro of words.
I would be giving a tribute at my sister’s Celebration of Life. Even after years of Toastmasters, I felt nervous speaking in front of my esteemed uncle.
Afterwards, he took me aside. “Heather, that was a beautiful tribute that you gave your sister. It was touching and I was very impressed.”
His kind words lifted my heart on that most difficult of days. He always had something good to say and his compliment will forever remain one of the most cherished of my lifetime.
In my reply to my cousin’s email, I assured her that I’d raise a glass at 5 pm, in her dad’s honour, with gratitude for the inspiring and exemplary life he lived and the impact that he made.
His life was very well-lived and he left the world knowing, deep in his heart, that he’d lived the best life that he possibly could.
That’s the end game that I want to shoot for too, to leave a well-lived life behind.
I think we should all be aiming for that, every day of our lives. It’s not too late, there’s still plenty of time to bring your A-game, rise to the top and make these next years the best yet.
I’m sorry for the loss of your uncle—what a role model, though!