“What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.” Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton.

I stand as an American, thrust well into the twenty-first century. Those were exotic words in my youth. I thought of how old I would be in 2000 and now I am pondering my age in 2020 and beyond. Though it is not the future that seizes my mind, but the past and those who came before me. Their blurry faces are sharpened by sudden pangs of loss and the occasional picture that falls in my hands or across a screen. I struggle to remember them at different stages of life. My father was hearty and robust in my first memories. He worked without mercy; his sweat watered the soil where my opportunities bloomed. He was a wispy ghost when I saw him the last time. I am his legacy.

My grandfather’s likeness stares at me every day. P.F.C. Smith is a vision of healthy pride, even though he is preparing to sacrifice himself for his nation. He fell bleeding, shrouded by a dense forest that dotted the land of a people he would never meet. I am not sure I would be much of a man in his eyes. If forced to work with my hands, my family would starve. If left in the wild for more than a day, I’d fall asleep in a bear’s den and re-enter nature as scatological remains. He dug coal and laid track. I read, write, and talk. We are, I am certain, as opposite as two men could be. But, I am his legacy.

I stand as an American, thrust well into the twenty-first century, but I do not stand alone. We stand on the shoulders of giants unseen, but their mighty work has hewn a nation and a people. Those who came before us were frequently wrong, but they were at times blindingly right. I am duty bound to honor them, preserve their best, and bequeath something greater to those who follow.

My children. I have five. What is my legacy for them? I think of their lives when they are my age. I hope they are happy and in love. I hope their passions drive them and their faith completes them. I hope they live in a land that is the best of what America has been. America should be a beacon, a steady ally, a force for justice, a leader among nations. I hope it is a land that strives for equality before the law, a place where Lady Justice’s blindfold remains ensconced, and where process is always due. I hope there are still sacred places government cannot tread.

As I reflect on this political season, I feel as a poltergeist of the present, a passive observer of something spiraling toward oblivion. We are always prone to make too much of the times in which we find ourselves, and perhaps this is such a moment. Maybe the future will peer over its shoulder to giggle at our hysteria, and laugh at our lamentations and our collective fears.

But, what if this is a marker, a moment that reveals a world changed? I have a simple idea. We can do better. We must do better. We owe it to our past, present, and future. We cannot be satisfied with Trump vs. Clinton. The truth of their flaws is self-evident to all but fevered partisans and self-interested schlubs. I feel no need to list their spectacular disqualifications for the most powerful office in the world.

There is but one path forward between now, November 8, and beyond. I cannot support either major party nominee, nor can I find a suitable outlet as an independent or a third-party choice. But, in exchange for my presidential apathy, which will be contrasted with my lower ballot energy, I make a simple promise.

I promise, on the blood of those who came before me, and in light of the souls still skipping about, to do better. To act, think, and speak in ways that seek solutions as opposed to enemies. To see beyond party and ideology and search for humanity in their stead. I promise to shed my political tears, to sprinkle the civic soil, so that our nation will again find ideals upon which to build. I promise not to allow the weeds of quarrel to choke the flowers that spring from common ground. I promise to till that ground when I find it, and rest in the shade of what grows there. But even if I fail, my promises will be seeds in a garden I never get to see. That will be my legacy.

So…anyone with me?