I’ve been thinking a lot about legacy these past few days. More specifically, what does legacy mean for people who don’t become parents?
Ten years ago, I visited one of my oldest friends, Lauren (aka Scully), to meet her new baby boy, Joshua. He was the youngest, tiniest infant I’d ever held. I’ll never forget that terrifying, breathtaking feeling.
I snapped an impromptu portrait of them, in awe of Scully and the magical human she created. I thought, perhaps, that would be me someday. When I was ready. Life… had other plans.
Yesterday, I had the honor of photographing Scully’s wedding. The tiny baby is now in 5th grade. He immediately gravitated towards my small backup camera and told me he wanted to learn photography. I quickly adjusted a few dials and handed it to him. “You’re going to be my second shooter,” I said.
In the car, on our way to dinner, he told me that he was going to be a photographer someday. As I later scrolled through these unedited photos, I smiled knowing he just might be.
“Free” time appears differently for those of us without children. Maybe it looks like spending hours outside of work on frivolous pastimes, passions, or hobbies. Inconsequential.
But they are all part of my legacy. This is how I leave traces of myself behind. Sharing what I love with people I love. Hoping one day Josh will look at these photos and remember me. The way he felt holding the camera for the first time, like I felt holding him those years ago.