What we leave behind
I arrived at the shed door of my plumber mate, Gus, only to hear
volumes of loud abuse. Hoons had evidently “visited” the shed looking
for easy money, or the means of getting some.
They smashed the large window over his workbench, leaving splintered
glass through trays of delicate equipment. They also opened tubes
of graphite, which they smeared over the bonnet and windscreen of
his ute. When I arrived, he still had a lot of cleaning to do, and
a low opinion of whoever had left the mess behind.
At a later and more relaxed time, Gus again raised the issue of
what the visitors had left behind. Ted, who was present at the time,
made a philosophical contribution. “We all leave something behind,”
he said, “even when we aren’t aware of it. I bet that, in someone’s
place, you’ve even intentionally left stuff behind that the client
has had to clean up when he or she got home.”
Gus started to become defensive at this point, so I added: “Every
one leaves a legacy that is looked upon by others. We may leave a
positive and helpful legacy that encourages and is appreciated. Other
times, we leave a legacy that is destructive, and requires the effort
and commitment of others to tidy up for us.”
Gus had the view that most people walked away from messes and jobs
because of stupidity, laziness or self-interest. He agreed, however,
that many people are good workers or leaders and, through sensitivity
and caring practices, achieve well and leave a progressive legacy
for the next person.
“You know, it’s a funny thing,” he added, “most of us don’t think
too much about what we are leaving behind. If we thought more about
it, we’d probably all do our jobs better.”
Ted, again thoughtful, added: “Those kids who broke in the other
night are a legacy, you know. They’ve been left behind, too. Perhaps
walked out on or let down in some way or another. Now their behaviour
and manners are a mess for someone else to clean up.”
Gus responded: “You’re probably right. Lawyers aren’t much help if
that’s the case. Instead of making them deal with me and doing some
cleaning up of their act around this place, the big wigs let ’em off
with a caution, telling them not to do it again. There’d be a few
changes if I was their magistrate, I can tell you.”
I chipped in: “If you take that attitude, you might be leaving another
legacy. Perhaps even a legacy with a greater mess. The poor coppers
are the ones who mostly have to deal with the bitter and twisted legacies
of society. They see firsthand the people and stuff that get left
behind, and, like plumbers, and coppers and their leaders, leave their
own legacies.
It was at this point that Gus’s wife, Floss, came into the shed,
and with a sensitive firmness, demanded: “Nick off you lot. There’s
cleaning up to be done around here. The place is a pig sty. I think
he is waiting for the fairies to clean up after him.”
When she picked up the hose and started turning the tap, Ted and
I bolted for the gate. The legacy was that we’d seen her in action
before.
Keep an eye out behind you for the odd legacy.
