Many of us have been conditioned to care deeply about the legacies we build. Understandably, many of us spend our entire careers working to secure a stable legacy—one we can be proud of and pass down to future generations.
According to Cambridge.org a legacy is “money or property that you receive from someone after they die,” while Merriam-Webster expands on this with two interpretations: “a gift by will especially money or other personal property” and “something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past.” Both definitions emphasise the material aspect of legacy—something tangible passed down from one generation to the next.
However, the secondary definitions from the same sources, shed light on another dimension of legacy, describing it as “something that is part of your history or that remains from an earlier time” or “of, relating to, associated with, or carried over from an earlier time, technology, business, etc.” These explanations reveal legacy as a bridge between the past and present—an enduring influence that connects the chapters of our ancestors’ stories with the unfolding narrative of our own lives and the lives of future generations.
Despite these broader interpretations, legacy is often understood primarily in terms of material wealth—something tangible to pass on to the next generations that involves money and possessions. Yet, there’s another aspect of legacy that’s less considered: our genetic legacy.
