How I want my family and me to remember me
Hi, I’m Omar, the founder and CEO of Kinnect. This blog is part of the From Omar series, where I share reflections on family, relationships, and legacy. These aren’t clean-cut lessons or polished advice — they’re raw, honest thoughts I’m still figuring out for myself.
Today, I’m reflecting on something that’s been on my mind more than usual: what it means to leave something behind for the people you love. And for me, this thought takes a more specific shape when I think about dementia.
My grandfather battled dementia for 10 years before he passed away. It’s been 10 years since he died, but the experience of watching someone you love slowly lose pieces of themselves never leaves you. It stays with you.
What if that’s me one day? What if I’m part of the largest generation of older people in history, many of whom will experience dementia?
While I can’t control the future, I can control what I leave behind.
The weight of what we leave behind
This reflection started as I watched my parents raise me and as I saw friends, family, and strangers navigate loss. When someone dies, there’s always this weight of regret.
If I were to die (and I plan to live a long life, but still, I think about it), I wonder if I’d have regrets. I wonder if I’d regret not sharing more of my emotional story with my future kids, my family, and my friends. Would I wish I had told them more about my insecurities, my growth, and my reflections on life?
What regret teaches us about legacy
When people lose someone, one of the most common things I hear is
“I wish I had asked them more questions.”
But it’s not just about asking more questions. It’s about asking the right ones.
It’s about asking the kind of questions that make people pause, reflect, and share something deeper than surface-level conversation.
I think about my own relationships — with my parents, my friends, my siblings — and I wonder: “What should I be asking them now?” What are the questions I’ll wish I had asked 10 or 20 years from now?
If you’ve experienced grief, you know how your mind replays every conversation you’ve ever had with that person. You mentally sift through everything they ever said, trying to hold on to whatever you can. And sometimes, you realize there was so much you didn’t know.
The idea of "pre-planning" your emotional legacy
There’s a shift happening in how people think about legacy. It used to be that "legacy" was just a financial term — it was about wealth or property.
But now, I’m seeing something different. People are starting to plan for emotional legacy.
You see it when parents pre-record birthday messages for their kids. When people pre-plan video messages for future weddings or graduations. When people write letters to be opened after certain milestones.
But here’s the thing — you shouldn’t have to wait until you’re "about to die" to do it. Legacy doesn’t have to be something you build in the final months of your life.
The two sides of legacy: expected vs. unexpected
I think about legacy in two categories
1️⃣ Planned Legacy — When you know you have time, you can prepare. You can leave behind birthday cards, letters, and milestone messages for your family.
2️⃣ Unplanned Legacy — When life catches you off guard. No warning. No prep.
When someone you love dies unexpectedly, you don’t have time to plan for it. You’re left with whatever they shared with you while they were here.
That’s the goal. To make sure the people you love aren’t left scrambling, trying to "piece you together" from whatever scraps of memory remain.
Why we’re building for future generations (not just current ones)
It’s not just about the people you’re connected with right now — it’s about the people who will come into your life later.
It might sound abstract, but think about it:
- Right now, you’re capturing stories with your family, friends, and loved ones.
- But one day, new people will enter that circle — your kids, grandkids, or even a new partner.
When that happens, they won’t just see the "current you" — they’ll have access to the whole you.
I think about how powerful that would have been for me as a kid. What if I could read reflections my grandfather wrote when he was 30? What if I could hear my mom’s thoughts from when she was in her 20s?
Take aways
What do we want people to know about you that they might not think to ask?
What do we want future kids to know about you that they’d never think to ask?
What do we want our siblings, parents, and friends to understand about us that we haven’t said out loud yet?
I want people to feel like they’re doing more than saving memories in Kinnect.
abrazos,
omar
