In the wake of the recent news about Kobe Bryant and his daughter, one cannot help but feel utter sadness and loss for that innocent child. And yet, my feelings about the outpouring of sympathy and sorrow for Kobe himself are mixed. Obviously, it is always a tragedy when someone dies, but have we all forgotten the sexual assault allegations from 2003? Why do we, as human, sweep the bad under the rug, and focus on the good, when a person dies? Is that the human thing to do? Is it the right thing to do?

Take Michael Jackson as another example. Venerated in death, we heard little posthumously about his predilections towards young children and questionable behavior as a parent dangling his son off a balcony.

I am torn by focusing on the actions we take throughout the entirety of our lives, and the legacy we leave behind upon our death. Of course, we would all like to be remembered as a good person, but if one has committed heinous acts against others, should we ignore those in our remembrance after we die?

Taking a step back: how does one sum up the total of their thoughts and actions after one has passed? Do we look at the breadth of deeds, or edit to just those parts we wish to bring forth?

I wish I could say that, up until this point, my life and action have been beyond reproach. That I have been a model citizen, and without question. But I have not. I think I try my best, as often as I can. But I am not perfect. I am flawed, and unique. And maybe it is exactly that combination of attempt and shortcomings that define my existence on this earth.

A few years ago, as part of a workshop for my company and its leadership series, I was asked to write my own eulogy. More of an evaluation of perception that an accounting of the good and bad, it did two things: provide a startling reminder of my own mortality, as well as give me perspective on what the world might perceive of me, rather than what my intention had been.

Sadly, I cannot locate the piece of writing. But perhaps it might be a valuable exercise for each of us to perform, once, maybe many times, to provide a reality check as to whether we are, indeed, living our best lives. A way to inform what others will say about us when we have passed, and can no longer defend our honor.

“…it does not matter if we are forgotten; what matters is the effect we have on those around us and those who come after us. What matters is how our own lives affect the larger, perpetual community of the living.”

― Lynn Schooler, Walking Home: A Traveler in the Alaskan Wilderness, a Journey into the Human Heart