The Legacy We Miss

Two milestone moments in one day, a graduation and a wedding. Both held lessons about legacy, letting go, and the echoes we leave behind in the lives we’ve touched, especially our kids.

This past Saturday, I attended a high school graduation, and later that day, the wedding of a former player I had the privilege of coaching through her high school years, a player and a family I hold dear.

The day was full of metaphors, about time, seasons, chapters, and full of calls toward curiosity, opportunity, and growth.

I decided to attend the graduation at the last minute. My wife was already planning to go, she works at the school, and we’ve known so many kids in this class since they were in early elementary. Our kids grew up together. Still, I was hesitant. I wasn’t sure my social battery could handle two big events in one day.

Rocco (right) with one of his best friends at graduation. It's his turn next year.

It came as no surprise that the graduation sparked reflection. That’s what these moments are for: a clean, visible transition from one chapter to the next. Still, I found myself unexpectedly awash in emotion as the graduates spoke, encouraging their classmates to seize the day (yeah, Dead Poets Society).

What truly struck me was the commencement speaker, a 2009 graduate of the school (which somehow doesn’t feel that long ago), who has already accomplished more in her 30-something years than many do in a lifetime. Her words invited us toward the undiscovered, the new, and the adventurous. As I listened, I glanced over at my son and realized he was standing at the edge of his own open door. His next chapter is coming, whatever it may be.

At the wedding, the messages came from every direction—a new marriage, a new beginning for the bride and groom, and a quiet sense of peace from her parents. Her father, one of my closest friends, was going to hold on for as long as he could before letting go of his little girl.

As I listened to his speech, I couldn’t help but notice a group of little girls I recognized, a full soccer team, dressed up and full of energy. The bride is their coach, and they had all come to celebrate her big day. At the same time, I saw several other players I had coached over the years. I knew them when they were even younger than this little team of firecrackers.

Watching that team of little girls, full of joy and in awe of their coach, I couldn’t help seeing a version of the bride herself at that age. And in the players who had once been those enthusiastic and wide-eyed little girls themselves, now young adults all entering new chapters of their own, I found time caving in upon itself.

This is often the legacy we miss. It’s not the victories or the trophies; it’s something much simpler: a connection, a relationship, a sense of being part of each other’s story.

In coaching, leading, and parenting, the core messages aren’t always delivered at volume, and they’re rarely acknowledged right away. They’re more like an echo, carrying forward long after the moment has passed.

Along the way, we offer pieces of ourselves, never quite knowing what will land or when. Sometimes years later, we hear it come back to us in the way our kids choose to lead, to live, to love.

I saw the beginning, the middle, and the after on Saturday. The transitions, the letting go, and the holding on. And I was reminded: legacy isn’t something we build at the end. It’s something we live, hour by hour, day by day, year by year.

That evening, upon arriving home, I looked at my sons, each on the edge of their own new chapters. And I realized they’re starting to echo back pieces that we’ve poured into them. Not just in what they do, but who they are. 

I hope they both know that I see them. And I’m proud of who they’re becoming. 

And I’ll keep showing up. Consistently. Steadily. Because that’s the kind of legacy I wish for them to carry forward.