We all know sellers have endless options and opportunities to sell homes. As real estate agents, we spend years building our referral businesses to be at the top of mind when a former client wants to sell a property or a friend, family member, or business associate asks for a referral. 

The competition is fiercer when we try to attract new sellers into our sphere. We develop strategies for expired listings, foreclosed properties, short sales, cold calls, and networking.

We all have a common goal as real estate listing agents: more listings, better referrals, and steady revenue. 

We want consistent revenue regardless of market shifts and interest rate considerations. 

We want to stand out at our listing appointments and differentiate ourselves. 

We know the value of attaining and developing long-term relationships with clients who list their properties. They can become ongoing referral resources.

For 15 years, I have worked in real estate, guiding buyers and sellers through one of their life's most significant financial and emotional decisions. As the designated managing broker of a boutique firm, I trained and mentored agents, helping them build thriving businesses. Even now, as I hold my license with a real estate holding company, I remain passionate about assisting people to grow, just as I did with my residential real estate clients.

I have always been drawn to the power of storytelling. I love to read and listen to books. I love to talk with people one-on-one and hear about their stories.

As the family historian, I have stories, perspectives, and legacies to share. Self-publishing is daunting with its many editing, formatting, and distribution challenges.

I am delighted to start a series of personal memoirs, Echoes, and Journeys for Our Legacy books. Our Legacy is an editing, publishing, and distribution platform dedicated to guiding authors like you and me through the writing and publishing process.

The 50th anniversary of Saturday Night Live was a celebration of comedy and comedy legends. However, it was primarily a celebration of legacy and the culture that shaped that legacy. It offered anyone watching across generations the opportunity to reflect on their coming of age and how those times and experiences shaped their lives.

Saturday Night Live is an institution built on the pillars of sketch comedy, some of which have been revered for decades; political and cultural satire; talented and relevant guest hosts striving to reach the five-timers club; the weekend update; and, perhaps most importantly, the popular musicians who are paired with the hosts.

Early in life, I discovered two activities that became cornerstones. Each, at various times, serves as a refuge, offers inner peace, provides strength, and ensures a connection to something greater.

When I was ten, my fourth-grade teacher suggested creative writing assignments. I remember the joy of sitting at my school desk with a blank sheet, free to create stories from my imagination.

I gladly invest weeks of reading or hours of listening time to beloved and challenging works of Historical Fiction. I love opening the door to a different time and place where my journey awaits. I reach for the author's hand, trusting that I will learn about the history and appreciate the characters and their intertwined lives. I will learn about their costumes, challenges, triumphs, social expectations, economic struggles, and political and internal turmoil.

I believe in the power of stories—our own, our families, and those that shaped our internal and external world. Our lives hold meaning for the future. I believe we all have stories that should be told to inspire, bond, remember, grow, amaze, and instill a sense of pride. Legacy stories tell the reader this is where I came from, who I am, and who my family is. We tell our stories in a simple, meaningful, and lasting way. Our words and stories can last forever.

The power of telling our stories for future generations to read and absorb is undeniable. Each of us has at least one story to leave behind. I can think of many, and I have started writing them for publication with the Our Legacy series, a platform dedicated to preserving personal narratives and legacies. 

Sometimes, it takes a significant, well-known, powerful legacy, like the recent movie about Bob Dylan, A Complete Unknown, which reached millions of people, to drive home the importance of our personal stories and the value of leaving them for future generations.

My four-year-old grandson loves to build with his father’s wooden block set at our house. My husband, Gary, and I did not keep many toys from our children's childhood, yet we kept those simple wooden blocks that sparked their imagination to build buildings, towers, and houses and then have the fun of knocking them down. The block set has been the centerpiece of creativity for our grandchildren.

Recently, he departed from his elaborate designs and decided to create a garage for his favorite car and truck. First, he constructed a simple oblong design. Soon, he realized that he would need a foundation to support it. He knocked down his first building and built a second garage with a layer of the block at the bottom for the foundation. He was thinking about how everything fit together and should be constructed.

In the 1950s, Paul Harvey’s voice was a constant in my house. My mother listened to his radio broadcasts while ironing, cleaning, and cooking. I especially remember the noon broadcasts when I’d hurry home from grammar school for lunch. I was too young to appreciate his wisdom then, but his deep, confident sign-off—“This is Paul Harvey... Good Day”—was a reassuring presence in my tumultuous world.

Some moments speak to us. Perhaps not when they unfold, but later in life, those moments gain significance, like a snowball picking up volume and velocity rolling down a hill.  They are often the quiet moments of no significant celebration or life event. They are everyday gems we store in our memory without knowing they will present themselves at the right moment. We pay homage to their significance. In our present, they are guideposts. And in the future, they will be part of our legacy. 

I look forward to the Kennedy Center Honors every year. The tradition began in 1978 when the first honorees included Fred Astaire and Arthur Rubinstein. Fifty years ago, I enjoyed watching because I either loved their work or discovered artists whose brilliance I had yet to explore. Five decades later, I think about how art shapes us, transcends generations, and teaches us about each other.

The year is coming to a close. I wish to reflect on my journey of words and stories. Each blog post has been a window into moments, memories, and lessons that shaped my life. I hope that the universal qualities of some of my experiences and musings spurred you to think about your stories and how to express them.

Fifteen years ago, as my mother Carol’s journey with Alzheimer’s was drawing to a close, I created an iPod playlist for her. It was a compilation of songs that transported her—and me—to a time when music filled her life with joy, defiance, and humor.

Our lives are comprised of moments that jump out at us like deer crossing our paths on a secluded country road. Some moments are not a second thought as we focus on the challenges of our businesses or everyday lives.

Some moments surprise us because they are vivid. We can touch them, although they may have happened decades ago. 

Some moments are dreams about our future. A child’s future graduation, a business sale, or a long-awaited adventure are moments that become real to us.

But what if the finest moment in our lives hasn’t happened yet?

I started my real estate career at sixty, joining a small boutique firm in the heart of Chicago. It was a bold move at the time, diving into a new industry and stepping outside my comfort zone. With a background in project management, where I worked behind the scenes in Information Technology for forty years, entering sales and relationship-building was foreign to me, yet I was determined to make it work.

Isabel Allende's profound statement, ‘Write what should not be forgotten,’ in her essay Writing as an Act of Hope, speaks to all of us. We all have stories, or stories we know from our grandparents or relatives, that we have not taken the time to write down. It’s easy to think we’ll get to it, and it’s also easy to think it doesn’t matter. That everyone who matters knows the stories.

For many of us who were children in 1963, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy is a moment we cannot forget—a day when the world changed in an instant. Although we did not understand the importance of the world or politics, there was a foreboding sense of lost security. We were years away from articulating a sense of lost innocence. 

It’s a unique privilege to be a consultant with the OUR LEGACY book series, where we offer you the exclusive opportunity to pen your long-awaited Legacy memoir. Everyone has a story to write. Everyone has a legacy to pass on.