I have my grandfather’s old radio. It sat on his workbench for years and kept him entertained while he tinkered and puttered around in his garage.

Now it sits in my bedroom, a tangible reminder of someone that I loved who is gone but not forgotten.

It’s more than a collection of old tubes and dials and wiring. It’s like a piece of my grandfather is here with me, even though my grandfather has been gone almost 30 years.

I hope one day to leave a legacy like that to someone. I hope that the words I have written or spoken, the things I have done, will inspire someone else to go out and make a difference, to do what most other people say can’t be done.

The radio still works. It takes a minute or two for the tubes to warm up, but after that it sounds as good as it ever did. Legacies are funny that way.