Natalia Naman Temesgen: The foundation of a life

Earlier this month, my grandfather passed away.

Amidst shock and grief, our family began to prepare the arrangements for his funeral and burial. My role was to compile biographical facts and a multitude of memories into a heartfelt obituary.

Memories were relayed to me by a number of relatives in a state of emotional flux. Details that seemed to matter most were missing: Specific years in which things occurred or the real name, not nickname, of important family friends.

Smaller details were in abundance: The beauty of gifts given decades ago or the exact way he answered the phone at his job of more than 40 years. I found myself struggling to compose a cohesive, brief encapsulation of Grandpa's life.

His life was measured in the memories of those who knew him, and a compilation of those memories began to show a pattern. That pattern became the key to the obituary. Generous. Creative. Skilled with his hands. Loving father. Man of faith.

These recurring elements were my foundation. The seemingly trivial memories were in fact the mortar holding the bricks together.

Grandpa was laid to rest this weekend in his hometown in Jamaica. No longer occupied with my assignment, I am now left to consider legacy.

I began to think seriously about my legacy around the time I became married. How would I explain certain behavior to my kids one day? Would I teach them to spend little, waste little and become miserly? Or to take little, but give lots, and be extravagantly generous? Would they see me worry and complain on a daily basis? Would they learn the language of despair or of hope by listening to me speak?

Then rather quickly, I became a mother. And I realized that my best efforts as a parent would always fall short of my ideal.

My kids watch me try, fail and try again as I strive to be a better me. They're seeing patterns in my behavior -- some exemplary, and some worth forgetting.

Grandpa wasn't perfect. His errors taught me just as well as his successes.

But he didn't allow past mistakes or present circumstances to shackle him.

He migrated to the United States as a young father. He made a long, successful career as the supervisor of a garage in New York City. ("If you can make it there, you'll make it anywhere.")

Even in his sick bed, he asked my sister to edit one of his novels because he hoped to publish it once he was feeling better.

He knew he wouldn't live forever, but he wasn't waiting for death. He was living each day, flaws and all.

If I can adopt some of Grandpa's legacy, it is his ability to strive and persevere. Life is a mysterious, beautiful and arduous journey. Sometimes the greatest achievement is to simply walk its road until you can't anymore.

He walked with vitality to the very end.

May he rest in peace.

Natalia Naman Temesgen is an independent contractor. Contact her at nntemesgen@gmail.com.

This story was originally published November 28, 2015 at 10:27 PM with the headline "Natalia Naman Temesgen: The foundation of a life."