A few weeks ago, a stranger inquired about my paternal grandfather, who was a chess master back in the home country. My father filled in a few paragraphs of information, all priceless information heirlooms.

There is a problem though. All of that information came from living memory, which by its very nature is of limited fidelity, capacity, and duration. For someone interested in researching the old man, there seem to be no primary artifacts left behind.

Perhaps there were diaries, but they were not preserved. Perhaps he never found the time to record his thoughts.
It would be most tragic if it was because he deemed himself insignificant.

While the vast majority of people don’t reach fame with the world at large, anyone with descendants also has an future audience. Some day, at least one of them will want to contemplate their own history; to learn something beyond the topology of a family tree; to find some local majesty in the continuity of generations. Even little people have interesting lives, as far as the little people’s little people are concerned.

One’s stories need not have to be for the public. They need not be shared contemporaneously. They need not be belaboured. But there should be something: pictures, captions, stories, advice, explanations, apologies, whatever. It will be important to someone someday. Write it down & keep it safe. Pass it on.