As the parent of a 3 year old, I often think about the legacy I’m leaving behind for my son.  And, by “legacy” I don’t mean inheritance. I wish it did mean that, but the way we’re going, his inheritance is going to be my final Con Ed bill.

But, I’m not talking about money.  I’m talking about the intangibles.  The things you leave behind for your kids or the next generation that has an intrinsic and irreplaceable value because it’s important to them and because it shows that you were here, that you made a mark, and that you left behind something of yourself.  For some, their body of work is their legacy — a novel that was written. For others, it’s a family heirloom — a watch or a necklace.  For others, it’s a way of life – traditions maintained in the face of ever-encroaching modernity.  Think of the civil rights legacy of Dr. King or the cultural legacy of the Harlem Renaissance or the legacy of trying to uncover and explain the mysteries of the universe of Albert Einstein.

In my case, the legacy I intend to leave behind for my son is a little bit of this and a little bit of that.  The list includes:

1. My dad’s tallis (prayer shawl for non Jewish people reading this).  Yes, it’s a thing that’s sort of like an inheritance.  But my dad wore it for his Bar Mitzvah, then he gave it to me, and I wore it for my Bar Mitzvah, and I’ll give it to my son for his.  By then, it’ll be 87 years old and will have been the tallis worn by the oldest son, of the oldest son, of the oldest son.  It will be worn and delicate and, thus, like our religion and culture will require attention and care to maintain.

2. My jump drive full of the novels, plays, screenplays, short stories and comedy material that I’ve written.  My son may never read any of this stuff.  He may not like any of it.  And, that’s fine.  My only hope is that when he sees the sheer volume of writing that his dad compiled it will inspire him to create his own art and to pass down that passion to his kids.

3. My dad’s hypochondria and obsession with health and fitness.  Yes, it can be nerve-wracking to think you can catch Ebola without leaving your apartment.  On the other hand, if you’re hyper-cautious about health precautions, eating right and exercising, you tend to be in pretty good health, notwithstanding your own anxieties and WebMD, which tell you very different.  Does my son have to be a pro athlete? No.  Do I want him to be a neurotic shut-in like Howard Hughes? No again.  I just want him to maybe understand that in the end, one’s health is really the most important thing he or she possesses.

So, that’s my list for now.  But, there is one more thing.  Something that I hope and pray he will be able to enjoy and pass onto his kids and/or the generations that follow him. Namely, a planet that is not being choked to death with greenhouse gases and pollution.

So, as of right now (actually, as of a couple of days ago), I’m making it my business to get into the game and do what I can to make sure we have a planet to give to my kid and all the other kids out there, and all the myriad kids yet to come.  I can’t end war or cure cancer or even predict what’s going to happen during the next Giants’ football game (though I have a pretty good idea), but I can do this.  I can roll up my sleeves and do something that will have some impact.  And, hopefully inspire others to do the same.

Because we can leave our kids money and possessions and all kinds of terrific ideas, but if we don’t leave them a planet that’s inhabitable, than we haven’t left them any kind of legacy at all.