Dawn Franks

Guest Columnist

A morning packed with meetings was supposed to blend into a half-day of travel to the DFW airport, but 20 minutes before an important lunch meeting, a text alerted me to a canceled flight to California. Southwest Airlines generously rebooked my flight for the next morning.

Just one problem, I had to be at the meeting by 9 a.m. So the new flight time wasn’t workable. Ten minutes and three airlines later, I had a new flight booked for later in the evening. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed into the meeting, believing all was well.

A severe storm was heading into Tyler when I got on the road to DFW. I was still okay, having allowed an hour-long cushion till take-off. Blinding rain changed my plan, and I prepared to sit the storm out in a parking lot. Luck smiled as the storm passed just before I arrived at the Interstate on-ramp.

Again feeling confident, I merged into the traffic, only to come to a near-stop within ten minutes. I was trapped with no exits, traveling two to five miles per hour. Soon, emergency vehicles sped by on the shoulder, heading for whatever had turned the interstate into a parking lot.

Since emergency vehicles were on site, I anticipated a short slow-down, and then I’d be on my way. Instead, five wrecks later, I was traumatized by the reality of sharing the road with semi-trailer trucks and praying for people I didn’t know, clearly trapped inside and under the wreckage.

It took nearly three hours to travel forty-five miles, but I was finally on my way again. My flight was delayed an hour, so I made it onto the airplane. Again, confident of my arrival, I settled in to read.

My luck ran out when the pilot announced we would be diverted to LAX because the Santa Ana airport had a noise curfew, and we weren’t going to make the deadline. So, after adding a forty-five-minute Uber trip, I finally fell into the hotel bed around 1:30 a.m.

In today’s travel environment, flexibility is essential. This trip was a reminder that despite planning and time-outs for deep breathing, life can fall apart all around us. Life gets messy, and our life stories seem too complicated to share.

Everyone has periods of their life strewn with wreckage from poor decisions, missed opportunities, and strained or broken relationships. It feels like you’ll never arrive at your destination; if you do, you’re too tired to tell your story.

But your story – your legacy – has value for those around you. Remember, legacy isn’t just deep pockets and large gifts. The generosity of caring and giving actions comes in all forms, large and small, despite life’s ups and downs or the size of a bank account.

You can ensure that generosity outshines the day-to-day and outlasts your lifetime.

None of us were born fully formed and functioning human beings. Experience and time shape everyone. The examples of others, advice taken or ignored and even reading the notes left by others become the heart of our legacy.

I think about those I’ve known who had very little yet given so much of it to others.

My great-uncle peddled Watkins products from the trunk of his car, often accepting payment in the form of fresh fruits and vegetables or jars of preserves. He and my aunt would take me and my brother out to eat at a restaurant with the best rolls in town on many Sundays. Generous to the core, they shared what they had and valued what others could give. I wish I had known more about their giving story because they helped shape my story.

If you leave your story for others to tell, it will never be complete. Instead, you can explore your story and think about what you still want to accomplish. So, what acts of generosity await you to share with your family, friends, and community?

The “Gift of Giving” is a book of questions and exercises to help you create your legacy and share your generosity in the future. You can get your copy today at your-philanthropy.com.