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“Family. Readers. Words.”
At Jonathan’s memorial service, one of the songs he selected was the Bee Gees’ Words. At the time, I simply thought it was a beautiful melody, a favorite of ours from the Bangladesh days. Only later did I realize how perfectly it captured his life.
A few months before his death, Jonathan wrote the final chapter of his book Money and Me. Knowing his time was limited, he reflected on how he hoped to be remembered. He told readers that if they were reading those words, he would likely have passed away.
He then described a simple stone he hoped would one day sit beneath a tree outside his Philadelphia home.
Under his name, he wanted just three words:
Family. Readers. Words.
Today, that stone does sit beneath a tree in front of his home. Nearby are a couple of chairs—a place to sit quietly, reflect, or perhaps have one last conversation with him.
What struck me most was not the inscription itself, but the explanation that followed.
Family, he wrote, represented the people who brought love into his life.
Readers were the people he had served throughout his career and who rewarded that service with loyalty and affection.
Words were his playground: The means by which he shared ideas, stories, and lessons learned along the way.
Those three words have stayed with me because they feel less like an epitaph and more like a statement of values.
They also raise a question that all of us eventually face: What truly matters?
Many of us spend decades pursuing goals that seem important at the time. We build careers, accumulate savings, buy homes, grow businesses, and track financial milestones. We measure our success in promotions, professional achievements, investment returns, and net worth.
There is nothing wrong with any of those things. Financial security provides freedom, independence, and peace of mind. Much of what we discuss on HumbleDollar revolves around making wise financial decisions.
Yet none of those things appeared on Jonathan’s stone.
Not wealth.
Not professional success.
Not accomplishments.
Not titles.
Instead, he chose family, readers, and words.
The irony is that Jonathan spent much of his career writing about money. Yet when it came time to summarize his own life, he chose three words that had nothing to do with finances.
Not because money didn’t matter.
Money helped support the things he valued most. It gave him opportunities, choices, and experiences. But it wasn’t what he wanted remembered.
The older I get, the more I find myself asking the same question.
What truly matters?
I was reminded of that question again after my father’s death. Unlike Jonathan, my father was deeply introverted. Many of his thoughts remained unspoken during his lifetime. Yet after he passed away, we discovered journals, notes, and reflections that revealed a side of him we had never fully known.
Through his words, he continued speaking to us.
Jonathan was different. He shared his thoughts freely with the world. Through thousands of articles, columns, books, and conversations, he reached an audience far beyond family and friends.
Yet the result was remarkably similar.
His words, like my father’s, remain to this day.
Readers still revisit his articles. They quote his advice. They share lessons they learned from him. Every time someone opens one of his essays, a small conversation begins again.
Words have a curious durability.
A house eventually changes owners. A business is sold. Investment accounts are spent, inherited, or donated. Accomplishments ,that once seemed significant, gradually fade into history.
But words can endure for generations.
They can comfort or wound. Inspire or discourage. Build bridges or create divisions. A few carefully chosen words can alter the course of a day, a relationship, or even a life.
Perhaps that is why those three words on Jonathan’s stone resonate so deeply with me.
They aren’t really about him. They are a reminder to all of us.
At some point, every one of us will leave something behind. The question is what.
When I look at that stone, I don’t see a journalist, a founder, or a financial writer. I see someone who understood that legacy isn’t measured solely by what we accumulate.
It is also measured by the people we love, the people we touch, and the words we leave with them.
Perhaps that was the lesson Jonathan intended all along.
In the end, the measure of a life may not be what we accumulate, but what remains.
Jonathan was a national treasure to our Nation’s education, not just on finance, of course, but on compassion and decency. We shall all miss him. Thank you, Andrew, for the story of his memory stone, and of your father. While the globe has its first trillionaire, am impressed that Jonathan provided more value to all of us during his lifetime, both through his teachings and example.
Thank you Konrad. What always impressed me was that he never measured success solely in financial terms. He cared deeply about helping people live better lives, and he did so with remarkable kindness and decency. Reading comments like yours reminds me that his influence continues far beyond the articles and books he left behind. For that, I am very grateful.
This is absolutely lovely, Andrew, and I especially appreciate the summary at the end: “[Legacy] is also measured by the people we love, the people we touch, and the words we leave with them.”
I’m a writer and a teacher, and I absolutely resonate with this. Having retired last year, I’ve thought more than usual about “legacy”—what does my career mean, now that it’s over?—and “life”—what do I hope to be remembered for, which encompasses both my career in the past and what I do with the days I have left?
I’m also so happy to read that the stone Jonathan wanted in front of his home came to pass. I live in California and don’t know if I’ll ever make it to Philly to see it in person, but it makes me happy to know that it’s there. Thank you for letting us know.
I love what you’ve been contributing to Humble Dollar, and I know that Jonathan would be so touched that his brother is honoring his memory by adding to his final passion project. ❤️
Thank you for such a thoughtful comment. I suspect that writers and teachers share something in common: They both leave pieces of themselves behind in the people they reach. While careers eventually come to an end, the influence we have on others often continues in ways we may never fully know.
I’m glad you mentioned the stone. Seeing Jonathan’s wish become a reality brought me a great deal of comfort, and I know many readers who never had the chance to meet him have found meaning in it as well.
As for HumbleDollar, writing here has become one of the most rewarding parts of my retirement. I’m grateful for readers like you, and I do hope Jonathan would smile knowing that his passion project continues to bring thoughtful people together.
I just finished Money and Me last night. I’d read all of the pieces in it that were previously published in HumbleDollar, but his additional content to tie it all together was special to read. As I came to the end, I found myself both grateful for his wisdom (which I experienced as a reader) and his kindness (which I got firsthand as a HD author) and saddened again that he’s gone.
Thank you. I think you’ve captured exactly what many of us felt reading Money and Me. The financial wisdom was always there, but what shines through in the final pages is the person behind the words. My brother was not only a gifted writer, but also a genuinely kind and generous man. I’m grateful that you had the opportunity to know both sides of him.
Well said!
Thank you Tony, I appreciate you taking the time to read it and respond.
Thanks for your thoughts. For me it is mostly one word, FAMILY. I am sure glad that was the first of the three words. Family, Love, experiences.
Thank you William for your thoughts. For me, it often comes back to one word as well: family. I was glad Jonathan placed it first on the stone. Family has a way of giving meaning to everything else: love, experiences, accomplishments, and even the memories we carry with us. In many ways, it is the foundation upon which the rest of life is built.
Another song that supports the epithet and philosophy of Jonathan is from Alan Jackson, entitled “The Older I Get.” One verse really hits home – “The older I get, the truer it is, it’s the people you love, not the money and stuff that makes you rich.” May we all come to this conclusion as Alan also croons “you only get a minute, better live while you’re in it, ‘cause it’s gone in a blink.” Very wise words, again words, from Jonathan and Alan.
Thank you James for sharing that. Those lyrics fit beautifully with Jonathan’s philosophy. He understood the importance of money, but he also understood its purpose. In the end, family, relationships, and the lives we touch are often what make us feel truly rich.
Jonathan was a special man. No AI will replace him. When I look back on the arc of my life, he was a big part of the formative years when I was just getting going, before I had a family and settled into my career. Coming from extreme poverty, first one to go to College , I wanted to do things ‘the right way’ and Jonathan’s writing was a key part of that. He never steered me wrong and always made me think. He was a brave guy too in the sense that I don’t think a lot of writers in the public eye would open themselves up to their audience. Through Humble Dollar he did though, engaging all of our different personalities and peccadilloes. He knew his audience. In one sense money is superficial – but he knew that money was a vehicle upon which we could achieve our dreams and what we as an audience wanted to accomplish.
Writing about how you felt about someone can be difficult. The great poets, philosophers and thinkers struggle with it. Even if successful, defining the weight of what someone meant is often fleeting. It’s what’s in our hearts that we take with us.
i always go back to something another famous writer, Stephen King, wrote from his short story The Body –
“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”
Thank you for sharing this. What touches me most is hearing how Jonathan’s writing helped shape your journey, especially during those formative years when you were building your life and looking for guidance. I think one of Jonathan’s greatest gifts was his ability to write about money while never losing sight of the people behind it. As you said, money was never the destination, it was a tool for building the life we hoped to live.
I also appreciate the Stephen King quote. There is something deeply true in the idea that words can never fully capture what someone means to us. Yet we keep trying because some people leave such an imprint on our lives that they deserve the effort. Thank you for taking the time to share what Jonathan meant to you. It means a great deal to me and my family.
Andrew – Clarity of thought, exceptional messaging, heartfelt summary. Thank you for becoming an HD contributor.
Thank you Jeff or those generous words. When I first began writing for HumbleDollar, I never imagined how much I would learn from both the readers and fellow contributors. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share my stories and reflections, and even more grateful for the thoughtful conversations that follow.
Andrew, what struck me most was the parallel between Jonathan and your father. Two men writing for entirely different reasons: one sharing his thoughts freely with the world, the other keeping them almost entirely to himself. Yet both left exactly the same footprint. It makes you wonder whether legacy through words is less about intention and more about authenticity. Write honestly, for whatever reason, and the words have a way of touching someone.
Thank you Mark.
So true and both left behind words that continue to inform, comfort, and connect. Perhaps authenticity is the common thread. Whether words are intended for one person or thousands, they seem to endure when they are honest and genuine.
Andrew, good writing is clearly in the Clements gene pool. Thank you for this wise post which not only brings back fond memories of Jonathan but also inspires me and others about what words and actions we hope to leave behind.
Thank you Don for your kind words. Jonathan certainly set a high standard for the rest of us. What I find most meaningful is not simply that he left behind wonderful writing, but that his words continue to encourage reflection and conversation. If this article inspires readers to think about what they hope to leave behind, then it has accomplished exactly what I hoped.
Andrew, what a powerful post with reminders to all of us regarding what really matters in life!
Thank you Dave. Jonathan’s three words were a powerful reminder to me of what truly matters. I’m glad the article struck a chord with you.
Yup.
2.5 years into retirement I poked my head back into LinkedIn for the first time in a while. I remember many of the people fondly, but even some of my own career accomplishments (to say nothing of LinkedIn) are starting to ring hollow.
I was surprised to hear the BeeGees at Jonathans service but in retrospect, it was perfect.
Longfellow was one of my favorite wordsmiths, i keep coming back to his “a psalm of life”:
…”Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;”…
and so often, that is done with words.
Thank you for your comment.
I can relate to that shift in perspective. As time passes, accomplishments can seem less important, while relationships and influence become more meaningful. I was also surprised by the Bee Gees at first, but in hindsight it was a perfect choice. And I love the Longfellow quote—it captures beautifully the idea that we leave our footprints behind in many ways, often through our words.
Andrew, your post makes me realize that a writer’s legacy is much like a musician’s. They may pass away, but they remain with us through the work they leave behind.
Thank you David. Good comparison, I hadn’t thought about it in that way. Both writers and musicians leave behind something that allows future generations to hear their voice long after they’re gone. Every time we read a favorite author or listen to a favorite song, the conversation begins again. Jonathan may be gone, but through his words he continues to teach, encourage, and inspire
One comparison is Clarence Clemons, Bruce Springsteen’s saxophone player. He to me was the sound of Springsteen. When he died every time I heard his sax solo on Jungleland I got emotional until I eventually realized that at least I could have a piece of him through continuing to listen to that song.
OMG, David, same thing happens to me on that song.
RIP Big Man. Jake is a pretty great backfill.
Andrew, thanks for a lovely article. I found Jonathan’s combination of kindness and honesty to be rare, admirable, and something to emulate. Thanks for your kindness and honesty.
Thank you Rick for your kind words. One of the things I admired most about Jonathan was that combination of honesty and kindness. He never seemed to sacrifice one for the other. I’m touched by your comment and grateful that those qualities came through in both his writing and this article.
A beautiful tribute to Jonathan as well as a thought provoking question for all of us! Thanks, Andrew.
Thank you Brian. I’m glad it resonated with you. Writing it caused me to reflect on the same question. Jonathan’s three words were deeply personal, but they also invite each of us to think about what truly matters and how we’d like to be remembered.
Thanks Andrew for another wonderful piece.
I think this highlights a lifelong struggle. We recognise that money is important – it buys food, shelter, healthcare, education. And often some extra money buys some luxuries or freedoms that enhance our lives. But it can be terribly difficult to know where the balance lies, and when to stop the chase for a few more dollars and focus on other vital aspects of our lives.
I certainly don’t have that answer.
Thank you Greg. I agree, the difficult part isn’t recognizing the value of money, but knowing when to stop measuring our lives by it. Jonathan’s three words reminded me that while money can support the things we value most, it isn’t always what we want remembered.