This week, my husband pointed out that our kousa dogwood had its first ever blossoms. Several years ago my mother-in-law, knowing that I really wanted one, came to visit and presented me with a long stick with a root ball that she had placed in her trunk. When I asked her what it was, she said, “it’s your dogwood.” 

I squealed with delight when I saw them, and have been walking past it every day so I can enjoy them for as long as possible. 

It made me think a lot about how people who are makers and doers leave a very tangible legacy behind. My mother-in-law was a gardener, and a fiber artist. Our yard is full of flowers and plants she gave us, and we have more quilts, sweaters, scarves, hats, and bags than you could imagine. Her legacy will be one of beauty, warmth and comfort because of these items that will outlast her, and probably outlast any of their current wearers. 

My father on the other hand was a storyteller, and a music lover. He enjoyed art more than he made it. I talked before about how his stories and his pastimes have been touchstones for remembering him, but I was thinking about how legacies are tangible and intangible. And really even if they are connected to “stuff” or not, they are a bit more fluid than we realize.  

Many years from now, someone may still be using Martha’s quilt, but maybe they never will have met her or seen her in her house, laboring over a piece, and sharing the story of the fabric or the design with whoever was around while she was working on it. 

My Dad’s stories and jokes may also be told, in whole or in part, to people who haven’t met him, and will never hear them in his voice. 

Of all the songs my Dad loved, I remember one in particular was Israelites by Desmond Dekker, which came out during the Vietnam War, and he associated it with that time in his life and the years he spent serving in the Army. It was a favorite with him and the men he served with, and they saw themselves in that song, working hard, beat up and dirty, far away from family. (also, just enjoy this video – Desmond’s dancing, facial expressions, voice like butter and tremendous style is just a gift). 

I know that most people listening to that song won’t know my father’s story. And most people seeing the dogwood blooms in my yard won’t have met my mother-in-law. But I wonder if, when new people come into contact with these things, they hear a whisper of the spirits of the people who loved them. 

Art leaves its mark on us, and we, in turn make our marks on it, changing its meaning and relevance from viewer to viewer. In that way I think that tangible and intangible legacies are the same, evolving past the maker, the storyteller, the fan, and changing the world in ways big and small.