The old entrepreneur-turned-CEO had chosen a place to die. He requested one of his favorite spots he used to frequent as a kid: the edge of the forest on top of the dune looking out over the sea. His children brought him there …

He was weak in body yet sound in mind. Wrapped in a robe, propped by the back of the lounge chair he was seated on, he felt the cool sea breeze in his face—a sailor’s morning, it was. Life was ebbing from him, but his mind still probed the horizon … looking for truth and sense.

Sally, his assistant for 53 years, sat vigilant in the sand next to him. His children were scattered close. The waves of the sea were eternally rolling … one after another after another … spilling gently on the shore. A restful sound that had prevailed for a million years before … and he knew would prevail a million years after he was gone. One after another … over and over again, like the world’s metronome.

“So what did it mean, do you think?” the old man asked his assistant. “What good do you think we did, if any?”

Sally thought for a moment. She could say a lot of things to try to placate him on his last day on earth ... you know, let the old man feel better in the end. But she was 78 years old herself and had been with him longer than either of his two wives. She knew the one thing her old boss had always insisted upon from those who worked for him was candor. She respected him for that and showed it by always giving him the honesty he wanted.

“I wish I knew,” she finally said. “We’ve had some ups and downs.”

“We have,” he agreed and smiled weakly at the understatement.

“It wasn’t all peaches and cream, you know,” she said, almost laughing.

“No, it wasn’t,” his smile broadened slightly.

“I think we can be proud that we survived,” Sally said. “There were some very difficult times—bad economies, tough competition, but we survived and even thrived in the end.”

“Yep … that’s good,” said the old man, not entirely satisfied.

“We were on the cutting edge and developed and invented so many new technologies,” she pronounced next. “By that, we advanced human knowledge and capability. Now that’s something to be proud of.”

“That’s true,” he said, almost wistfully.

She looked at him and saw that familiar expression on his face. She’d seen it for 53 years—the face that said that they were near the truth but had not yet nailed it. There was that slight smile of partial agreement, but at the same time, his straining eyes hadn’t quit.

Sally thought deeply and then dove in again: “Charity,” she said. “You gave so much of what this company made … to the poor, to holiday outreach programs, to research. You supported the building of shelters for the homeless and ran donation drives for the United Way. You chaired the March of Dimes and sat on a slew of charitable boards. You raised money for our injured servicemen and women. I’ve never seen anyone so giving. And most of it, people didn’t see. If they had, their opinion of you wouldn’t have been so harsh.”

“I suppose not,” said the old man. “People tend to assume the worst about other people with money.”

The noon sun rose high in the sky as his children brought him lunch, though in his condition, it wasn’t much: a banana and a little milk. They told him the wonderful father he was and how proud he had made them by how he conducted business—fairly, honestly, and compassionately—how, that alone, is a worthwhile legacy. He nodded appreciatively, but his eyes would not let go of the horizon, his search unabated.

Something was missing. What was the worth of it all? What was his contribution to the earth during his tenure on it? His eyes scoped the sea like the light from a lighthouse aching for a lost ship.

And then, strangely and rather suddenly, the waves began to take a funny form. In them, he began to see faces. First tens, then hundreds, then thousands of faces. They were marching toward him like a marching band in a big parade—rows upon rows of people. They would bow their heads respectfully as they rolled and clapped for him as they struck the shore. He thought he recognized a lot of them.

And then, it hit his dying heart like thunder and lit up his searching brain like lightning. His answer was in the waves. His eyes widened through the years of wear. He knew the good he had done.

He wheezed with some excitement and yet, so little strength remained. It was as if these would have to be the final compressions of his lungs and the last streams of air that could escape. And he used them to say this to Sally and his children:

“Success is good.”

He leaned up on his elbows so that he could be sure they could hear him.

“Inventions aren’t bad either. Charity is important but isn’t best. It’s the easy part, really, for the giver and the one who gets. And running an honest business is certainly good—though it really isn’t extraordinary. It should be the norm.”

He rose in his chair further, gallantly committing himself to one last spurt of energy.

“No, what we did was … you and me, Sally … what we did was … we created … opportunity. That’s the real value of what we did … it’s the opportunity we offered. Actually, opportunity is what our system of capitalism and democracy is all about. We were a small part of that. It’s the hailing legacy of any CEO worth his spit.

“Opportunity is the gateway for all human endeavors. For thousands of employees and tens of thousands of family members who depended upon those employees, we created opportunity. I don’t know that I was great; as a matter of fact, I’m sure I wasn’t, but I’m proud that we created opportunity for others. That’s the best thing we did. And it was good.”

And the waves were thanking him.

The old man fell back gently in his chair, and his eyes left his ever-present assistant and his children. He gave one more look to the sea—not searching anymore but recognizing. And then he quietly closed his eyes, and he was gone.

Sally noted how appropriate it was that he died in the same way he allowed her and his children to live—with his head up.

He was gone, but the waves of the sea kept rolling … one after another after another unchanged … spilling on the shore.

Indeed, the waves went on, and so did the people—those who had taken full advantage of the gateway of opportunity that he had offered them. Onward and forward, over and over again, for generations to come.

And why not? For who can measure the reach of one good person?