Legacy

A little time

“I’m afraid it's terminal...” Lucas stared at the white wall, dread overcoming his being as he was forced to filter what the doctor had just told him. For a moment panic set in, and he faintly hoped that any minute now he would wake safe in his bed looking forward to yet another casual Sunday. However, This was not merely a nightmare. This was real life, and unfortunately he could not wake from reality. “How long?” He asked, not a shred of emotion gracing his tone. He was far to invested in the thoughts in his mind. The doctor did not frown nor falter as he answered him, a question he undoubtedly had had to answer before. “A year...Maybe more with treatment.”

Lucas scoffed at that. “Treatment.” He mocked. “You mean a drug that will drain every bit of life from me, and only manage to give me a fifty fifty chance at life.” The doctor was silent as he picked his words carefully. “I’m afraid, for you it would only lengthen what little time you have. It would not give you another chance at life.” The doctor paused studying his patient, almost uncertain what more he could say. Lucas found the silence unbearable. “I’m truly sorry Mr. Grant.” Standing from the chair Lucas grabbed his suit jacket and forced it on quickly not wanting to show an ounce of the fear he felt within. He placed his hat on his head, tipped it towards the doctor and headed out of the facility as fast as possible. A year....That was all he had left in his life, and what did he have to show for it? Money, long hours working for a company that would replace him shortly after his demise...What did he have to leave behind that was meaningful? What even was meaningful in this world? The questions were daunting and he was exhausted. All he wanted now was a drink, and to return home as fast as possible.

Life of the broken

Francis Marks had never had the best of luck. Even as a child misfortune seemed to follow him. When he was seven, his father became the neighborhood drunk. At eight he broke his arm riding his favorite bike a year later, and almost always hurt himself every summer from one accident or another. One summer his dog Charlie ran away and didn’t return home, yet somehow despite all the turmoil he always managed to remain optimistic. Finding the light in even the darkest of circumstances.

When his wife Annabelle, and son Ben died in a car crash Francis had lost his optimism. He had spiraled into a deep depression, and refused to leave his house. He couldn’t work, he could barely go out to buy his own groceries. Everything reminded him too much of what he had lost. Over time, he had lost his home, his car, and all of his belongings. Neighbors had offered to help him in what little ways they could, but Francis couldn’t bring himself to rely on their sympathy. Instead he packed a small bag of belongings which contained a photo of his little family, a pen, and a little black notebook. Francis took one last glance at his former home which housed so many memories, then took to the streets of San Francisco with nothing but a small sliver of hope that someday his pain would end. Little did he realize, this was the path that would lead him to abundance.

His optimism was strange...

Lucas stared straight ahead unable to break the thoughts of his limited time here. He had slept very little, and could almost feel the cancer eating away at him. Had he been foolish to deny treatment? Should he have lengthened what time he had left? No. That would only mean he would have to survive longer with the raving anxiety which set heavily in his heart each day. He didn’t want to live in fear any longer, he wanted to enjoy his time left but every activity he did which once brought him joy now left him feeling hollow. The realization these days were limited was far too depressing for him to continue in. Still, he longed for more time. For more experiences, and for more peace of mind. He just hadn’t any idea where he could find such things.

“Excuse me sir” a faint voice of a man interrupted his thoughts, green eyes peered down to the small lump which huddled in torn clothes. A beggar, someone he once looked down upon. Normally he would not have stopped, or even glanced at the man but death has a way of changing someone, it is a cruel yet humble reminder that in the end we are all the same. Destined for one fate. “Yes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he waited for him to speak. “I was wondering if you have any change you could spare.” The man's voice was weak. His body was beaten, bruised and in great need of a shower. He owned little to nothing yet his smile beamed as if he had everything he ever needed. “Sure.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the remainder of his cash. Twenty in ones, and handed it to him. The man's face beamed brighter, and he gave a half toothless smile. “Thank you sir! This truly makes my day.” Lucas nodded in response and was about to head off when he noticed a small worn notebook in the man's possession. Giving into his curiosity he asked “What you got there?”

The man's smile widened as he picked up the small notebook. “Just an old notebook to write, or draw into when I have the time. Unfortunately my pen has run out of ink, but perhaps I will pick one up now that I’m able.” Lucas was silent for a moment as he pondered over his words. “You’d spend money on a pen when you could get more food...Why?” He did not mean to sound so gruff, but it did not seem to phase the beggar. “Yes sir, I would.” Lucas frowned “Call me Lucas.” He paused, “and you are?” The man smiled again. “My name is Francis, it’s nice to meet you Lucas.” Francis had a peculiar way about him. He was on the streets, yet seemed perfectly content with life. Even was grateful for a measly twenty dollars in ones.

“Why do you plan to buy a pen? Is the notebook that important?” Francis gave a cheeky grin “It is.This notebook houses some of my greatest memories...I figure if I was ever to pass on, I would want to leave something behind. I figure why not leave a notebook filled with some of my grandest adventures, realizations, and wisdom that life has granted me.” Lucas hesitated before saying anything more. The thought process which Francis had both baffled, and inspired him. Slowly a grin rose on his lips and he let out a soft chuckle. “That’s a good idea...Tell me, what puts you in high spirits?”

High Spirits

“Well Lucas, to be honest with you I've had a hard life. I have many reasons not to smile. However...” He paused, his eyes staring down at his tattered black notebook slowly giving a soft smile. “Life is far more than my troubles. It is far grander, and in the end I am responsible for how I live it. I don’t like feeling sad, or angry. It’s never been my way despite the hardships life has thrown at me. This optimism was my late wife’s favorite thing about me. It was the reason my son smiled when he felt like he had failed. It put smiles on the faces of those I care for, and lifted their spirits so I figured...If I have the power to do that for others, why not do that for myself?”

Lucas looked over the man studying him for a moment. “I lost my wife, and boy you see...I let my life crumble apart then found myself here. Before, I thought I needed a house, money, and people to make me happy and though I miss them dearly, I am trying hard everyday to cultivate happiness in myself, and perhaps if I can do that others can too.” He stopped for a moment, shrugging before speaking again. “I know it must sound silly, but I just want to live a happy life even if that means going without from time to time.” Lucas didn’t have much to say. He had spent his life chasing success, business and luxuries. Hell, he was currently spending what was left of his time in self pity, wallowing and unhappy that he never made corporate. Here was a man who lost everything he loved, and yet he took responsibility for his emotions, and fought to create his own happiness.

It inspired him, though it was bitter to admit he had not had the mindset to do that for himself. It left a feeling of envy in him as well. Giving one last small smile he nodded at Francis, took out his small checkbook and wrote down some numbers. “You’re a strange man Francis, but I suppose that’s part of your charm.” Francis chuckled. “I suppose it is!” He said beaming as he wiped the snot from his nose. Lucas folded the twenty thousand dollar check then handed it to him. Francis was reluctant at first “Take it, and go to the nearest bank. You shouldn’t have any issues...” and without muttering another word, or waiting for his reply he tipped his hat to Francis, the man who inspired him, and continued on down the old road in the middle of San Francisco. In that moment he decided that for the remainder of his life if he could be or do anything, he’d work on being kind. To himself, and to others. Perhaps that too could be his legacy.