This is the End

I went to a retirement party last night. It was the real deal: drink tickets, wood-fired pizza, and a good band playing a little too loud for the space. When you're self-employed, you have to throw this kind of party for yourself. There’s no company to gift you an engraved watch and thank you for your time. Amy was the company. Her retirement party was also a wake for Pretty Flowers.

I’m in the same boat. I am Norton Stoneworks. I’m building things with stone, not a company that will live on after me. It’s a deliberate choice, one that I’m okay with. Still, I can’t help but wonder: What will I leave behind?

Legacy is a funny thing to worry about. By definition, we’ll never get to experience our own. But I think, deep down, we all want to live on forever in the hearts and minds of humanity. We want tangible evidence that we lived good lives. We paint our hands on cave walls. We carve our names into trees and the bottoms of desks. We try to leave proof that we were here, that it all mattered.

When Amy gave her speech last night, she didn’t dwell on her favorite clients or projects. Instead, she thanked all the people she’d worked with over the years—the ones she’d laughed and cried with, gotten mad at and been grateful for, and dug in the dirt with. In the end, that’s what matters most. The people.

There’s a lesson here we need to pay attention to.