The author delivered the following remarks upon receiving the 2025 Gail Littman Leadership Award at the North American Life & Legacy Conference on April 28. Life & Legacy is a program of the Harold Grinspoon Foundation that helps Jewish federations and foundations across North America promote legacy giving.

When Charleston joined the Life & Legacy program, we adopted the tagline: “Be remembered forever by the Jewish community with a legacy gift.” It sounded poetic — aspirational, even. But to be honest, it didn’t fully click for me until last July, when I suddenly lost my father.

Courtesy

A childhood photo of the author (right) with her father and sister. Courtesy.

Despite years working in development and making countless shiva calls, I didn’t truly understand legacy until I became a steward of one.

In the aftermath of my dad’s fatal accident, I found unexpected comfort in Judaism’s rituals. The Mourner’s Kaddish gave shape to my grief and continues to offer a sacred rhythm to mourn what I’ve lost. But here’s what I’ve come to realize: grieving never ends. It’s the beginning of a new lifelong journey — a journey of figuring out how to keep someone’s values present, even when their voice is no longer in the room.

Over the past eight months, I’ve come to see legacy not just as a financial concept or a future intention but as a daily act. A sacred transmission from one generation to the next.

Rather than rush to make charitable decisions in a moment of loss, my sister Abby and I created a fund — a way to hold the generosity of others, and eventually to pass on our father’s values. Through the Michael W. Leibowitz Family Fund, my daughters — now just 4 and 7 — will grow up knowing their Poppy like I did through the grants they’ll help make alongside their cousins. If I do my job right as their parent, this fund will give them the language and tools to carry their Poppy’s spirit forward — into their own lives and into the lives they’ll touch through their giving.

Legacy isn’t only about how we want to be remembered. It’s also about how we remember the people who showed us what a life of purpose looks like, and how we use that memory to shape a more meaningful future.

This work — what the Harold Grinspoon Foundation has enabled our Life & Legacy communities to build together — is about securing Jewish life. It’s about ensuring that our values outlast any single moment. It’s about creating bold, intergenerational conversations that move us from memory to meaning, from preservation to purpose.

Because what’s the point of raising dollars or creating funds if we’re not also raising consciousness? Raising expectations? Raising leaders?

We cannot be afraid to lead with our Judaism — to show up proudly, visibly and vocally as Jews —especially now. But we also can’t shy away from the hard work that comes next: discerning where our values meet the needs of this moment, and what kind of legacy our giving can build.

I was so fortunate to have 42 years with my dad, and while I wish we had even more time together, his spirit remains in the values he instilled in me: the resilience to meet change with courage, and the humor to meet life with joy. The fund that bears his name will allow us to ritualize sitting as a family and remember the good times while also doing good for others. 

So let us keep asking: How do we honor those who came before us without freezing their legacy in time? How do we build something durable enough to last, but dynamic enough to grow?

The Talmud teaches: “As my ancestors planted for me, so I plant for my children.”

May we all keep planting — with courage, clarity and conviction — so that generations from now, they’ll say: They didn’t just leave something behind. They passed something forward.

Rebecca Leibowitz Engel is the director of legacy giving and impact at the Jewish Endowment Foundation of South Carolina.