We could pretty much pick any week in the year and discuss what it tells us about legacy, but this last week or so has been a real kick in the pants in that regard. It has me thinking: If we looked at life as an exercise in building our legacy, what would that change? How would we live differently? Or would we?

Those of us in our mid- to late-40s are already in a place where we feel mortality more than we used to because just by virtue of math there are more of us losing parents and even partners to death. I have recently told some friends that because I am still blessed with both of my parents, sometimes I feel like I’m playing dodge ball and just haven’t been hit yet.

When you add in the fact that I am a life coach whose clients are often aware that their own lives are ticking away and there’s so much living they haven’t done, it’s easy to see why the needle on my mortality meter is going haywire lately.

I was on a shuttle bus from New York City to Long Beach Island when I heard that Michael Jackson had died. There were four 20-somethings, me and the driver and as we made our way out of the city, the “kids” asked the driver if he could tune the radio to the Jackson tributes that were going strong.

“Everyone in the van may not agree,” the driver said.

A young woman in the group turned to me and said, “Ma’am, do you not like Michael Jackson?”

After I got over the initial ‘ouch’ of being referred to as ‘ma’am’ I found my voice, “I’d love to listen to Michael Jackson,” I said.

And listen we did, not just to the music but to the fans calling in and crying as they voiced their shock.

If indeed we can see what’s happening in this life on Earth when we’ve moved on, I cannot imagine what Michael Jackson’s reaction is to seeing people across the globe celebrating him. Could he have imagined, after all he’d been through legally and emotionally, that the visceral reaction of much of the world would be dancing?

Having had prior plans to go to a 70s-80s themed dance club in Atlantic City the very next night, I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined that it would feel so poignant to dance to the electric pulses of Jackson’s music the day after he died. Being on a dance floor surrounded by large screens playing videos of Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough, Billie Jean and Thriller as people tried to imitate those unforgettable Thriller moves made me feel connected and alive, if a little teary.

On Facebook, an old and dear friend from high school recalled that we had played Off the Wall while working together in the stereo section of a department store. This was a whole other facet of Jackson’s death, bringing out not just our mortality but our pasts because his music is the soundtrack of so many of our lives. His legacy – as with so many artists – is tied to ours. For lots of men, the death of Farrah Fawcett conjured up an instant connection to their teen years via a memorable poster and her subsequent acting work touched countless others.

And while all that is fascinating to so many of us in the last week, so, too, are the legacies-in-the-making of South Carolina governor Mark Sanford and Ponzi schemer Bernard Madoff. Both have assured that the word ‘scandal’ will appear in their obituaries regardless of what else they do in this lifetime.

Doesn’t it all just make you think? What are you leaving behind? Accomplished, altruistic children, perhaps? A business or a foundation built out of your sweat and tears? Art produced from a place of creative necessity and passion?

When I mentioned the topic of legacy to my tech-savvy friend, Doug Carlson, he asked if I was aware of the Wayback Machine. I hadn’t heard of it, but I am now fascinated by this digital legacy site. My first Web site from 2002 is on there, as is the original www.foxsports.com site that employed me a decade ago. In addition, since these Game Plan columns are a part of my legacy, it’s great to know they’ll be preserved in digital infamy.

Given all that is possible and all that we know, I ask again: If we looked at life as an exercise in building our legacy, what would that change?

If your answer is “nothing” you must be living fully. If your answer is “everything” consider this your wakeup call.

Nancy Colasurdo is a practicing life coach and freelance writer. Her Web site is www.nancola.com. Please direct all questions/comments to FOXGamePlan@gmail.com.