A Note From Ashley: What Legacy Means To Me

My dad loved a grill. I have his barbecue sauce recipe in my family recipe box, written in his handwriting on the back of an old, stained business card. I don't think I will ever throw that away.

After he passed, I found myself doing things I didn't expect. Listening to old voicemails — he'd call just to ask if he needed to pick me up anything from the store. Going through his belongings and noticing which clothes still smelled like him. These were the things that turned out to matter most.

I sit with clients in legacy interviews, and I hear versions of this all the time. People come back after a spouse has passed, or after a parent is gone, and what they say is never about the trust document. It's about the conversation. Families tell me it's the most treasured gift — the stories behind the objects, the values behind the decisions, the things someone wanted their grandkids to know, said out loud, on record, while they still could.

This is why we do legacy interviews, and it's why we're bringing that work to the Celtic Festival this year. We'll have a booth set up as a story station. No pitch, just a chair and a conversation.

Come find us and tell us something worth keeping.