Remembering People For What They Did, Not What They Became

We all age. Some more than others. Some less. Some get a surgical makeover. That works until the paint starts to peel and blister. Some people don’t know when to stop even with the makeovers- like Joan Rivers, yet she went so far over the top she’s been able to exploit it as an asset. Aging can be graceful or not. I enjoy the quiet wisdom of an elderly person who’s lived a long and interesting life. A life of hard work or intellectual work- they all have a quiet wisdom and so much to offer.

Aging can also lack grace. Life may have dealt them a tough hand, or they may have set their own bar too high and acted too harshly as their own referee and judge. Some people grow sour with their disappointments; some grow sour with their successes. Aging asks us to be forgiving of the past. Some do. Some don’t.

Few subjects are more written about than reflections on life. I won’t even attempt to add to it. . People write about their successes and failures. We can learn from both if we choose to. We prefer successful people. We want to emulate their path, their choices, and their judgment. Who would want to emulate a failure? Yet both can offer good advice. We need both, like yin and yang, to understand them fully.

People who do remarkable things and leave at the top their game are immortalized forever. A few are fortunate to leave of their own choosing. That list is short- George Washington, Bobby Orr, Mohammed Ali… Most leave not of their choosing, and they’re immortalized because they’re at or near the peak of their achievements. This list is long and sad- Jesus, JFK, Elvis, Martin Luther King, Buddy Holly, Abe Lincoln to name a few.

In either case, our image of their achievements is locked in time, undiminished and unblemished in the absence of failures that never occur later in life. We remember them only for what they were, not what they would’ve become. That’s what makes them so memorable.

Gail Collins pointed out in her OpEd today how many contemporary people would be held in higher esteem if they bowed out when their image was at a peak. She pointed out Joe Lieberman, Rudy Giuliani, and Ralph Nader, among others. Joe would’ve been revered if he walked away from politics after running for VP, instead of the incoherent egocentric limelighter he’s become. If Rudy retired from politics after being Mayor of New York, he’d be remembered as the greatest mayor who ever lived in the worst of times, instead of the worst presidential candidate of modern times. Ralph Nader, the consumer’s crusader, spoiled Al Gore’s bid for President and eversince seems destined to fall into the same bucket as Lyndon Larouche and other fringe politicians, rather than being remembered for all the good things he did. George Bush should have retired after being Governor of Texas, or earlier, after graduating from Yale.

Maybe it happens because few people can sense when they’re at the top of their game. Like rushing to buy overpriced stock when the price is still rising, there’s a wishful expectation that the ceiling is yet to be found, and in the end we remember them for what they became, not for what they were at that fleeting moment when they were at the top of their game.