You Are.

Our Uber driver told me which suburb he resided.

He happened to live in the city my Grandma had lived my whole life (until her death over 20 years ago).

In one moment, a rush of emotions and wonder came.

I thought about how few people know my Grandma, how much her neighborhood had changed, how my kid’s childhood differs vastly from my own. I pondered posterity, legacy, death, life, dreams, and preserving stories.

My experience of my Grandma’s condo differed greatly from her own upbringing (wherever she lived).

I became jealous of the Shaman I met overseas a few years back. He can pinpoint the precise landmarks his ancestors performed such and such a thing. He possessed stories and identity because of a geographic location.

Back to the concrete…

Sitting in the Uber, I realize I am in real time making a memory with my son.

Eugene Peterson’s son asked his dad, "Dad, what do you want your legacy to be?”

Eugene replied, “you are.”