What We Carry Forward
A Memorial Day Reflection on Legacy
By Rachael Smith, MBA, ChFC®
May 20, 2026
Recently, I was captivated by the Artemis II crew and their mission around the moon and back to Earth. The mission is dangerous. The crew would travel farther from Earth than any human has traveled before.
In a 60 Minutes interview, correspondent Bill Whitaker asked the crew, “So when the history of this mission is written, what would you hope it says?”
Astronaut Christina Koch responded, “I hope they forget all about Artemis II.”
“Why is that?”
Koch continued, “We, as a crew…. we talk about our legacy being enabling the future missions and all the way from Artemis III to Artemis 100 to Missions to Mars.”
“Completely agree…” Commander Reid Wiseman chimed in.
“But you’re the first step.”
“Yeah, but watch what’s coming next, it gets pretty extraordinary from here.” Astronaut Jeremy Hansen concluded.
As a financial planner, I have legacy conversations with clients often. Usually, those conversations are framed around financial goals. How much do you want to preserve? What would you like to leave to your children, grandchildren, or charities? What assets should be protected, transferred, or gifted? Those are important questions.
But what really is legacy? A younger version of myself thought of legacy as something more visible. Paintings on the mess hall walls at West Point. A portrait in the Smithsonian. A bust in the White House. A name that people remember. I also think of a documentary I watched about Polyface Farm, a biodiverse farm where land and farming practices were passed down through generations. The current generations openly acknowledge that they could never have built what they have today without that rich inheritance. Tangible legacy matters.
But my understanding of legacy has changed over time. And I think that is why the Artemis II crew’s response felt so inspiring and emotional to me. Legacy is not only what we leave behind, but what we make possible.
I want to share a personal story of a soldier’s legacy.
When I was a First Lieutenant and a new Platoon Leader in a Stryker Brigade at Fort Lewis, Washington, I was required to attend a “Stryker Leader Course.” We learned about the brigade’s assets, weapon systems, the agile and adaptive mindset, and some tactics. The Officer In Charge was a Brigade staff officer, CPT Bill Jacobsen. We were in the field most of the week and the last three days it rained, which was typical for Fort Lewis. I had packed what I considered to be a lot of socks, enough to change twice a day. But by the last day, CPT Jacobsen was doing a foot check, as good leaders do, and I was on my last pair of socks which were soaked through. He gave me a pair of his socks. Thoroughly embarrassed, but dry and grateful, I wore his OD green socks the rest of the day. The socks were about 5 sizes too large for me.
Over the next year, I worked with CPT Jacobsen in the Brigade Tactical Operations Center. Sometimes the work was clunky, and our systems did not communicate well with each other, so my platoon created last-minute workarounds to provide intelligence updates. Through all of it, CPT Jacobsen remained patient, kind, competent, and steady.
On December 21, 2004, CPT Jacobsen was killed by a suicide bomber at a dining facility in Mosul, Iraq. Bill was 31 years old. He was survived by his wife and four young children. After Bill died, I wore his memorial bracelet for years. His socks were still in my drawer after moving from Washington to Michigan and Michigan to Texas. When do you stop wearing the bracelet? If I let go of the socks, do I stop caring? Will his memory be lost?
The people we lose are often carried forward through ordinary memories, not necessarily their greatest accomplishments.
A joke.
A phrase they used.
A meal.
A pair of socks.
And I think that is why Astronaut Christina Koch’s comment felt right to me. The legacy is not the bracelet or the socks. The legacy is how I go on to treat other people with that same care, kindness, patience, and love.
This Memorial Day, I would encourage you to think about your own legacy.
For many people, legacy planning includes financial assets, and that is important. Thoughtful financial planning can help provide for loved ones, support charities, reduce confusion, and pass resources with intention.
But legacy may also be much more than money or tangible assets. Our attachment to those things may fade more quickly than we imagine.
Maybe what you are really passing on is a love for the Lord. A heart for service. A legacy of hard work. A sense of humor. A passion for nature. A commitment to learning. A willingness to show up for people when it matters.
In the end, there may not be a monument raised in our honor.
And maybe that is okay.
Maybe the better hope is that something good continues because we were here.
Disclaimer: This content is for educational purposes only and does not constitute personalized investment, tax, legal, or other professional advice.