The Best Age to Film a Legacy Video

A friend recently suggested that the best age to film a legacy video is 65. At 65, he reasoned, a person has lived a full life they can reflect upon and—with luck—still has many healthy and fulfilling years ahead.

I think he’s right. Turning 65 often marks the start of a new chapter. Many are considering retirement, finally slowing down from the hustle of their career and the demands of raising a family. It is a time for taking up new hobbies and enjoying more moments with loved ones.

At 65, I imagine, you can reflect on your life with hard-won clarity. You’ve experienced highs and lows and “just okay” stretches. You’ve fallen in love and been racked by heartbreak and grief. You can see how “childhood you” shaped “current you” and all the versions of yourself in between.

Completing a legacy video as you approach retirement is an opportunity to take stock and consider what you want for the future and the kind of legacy you hope to leave behind.

For families, commissioning a legacy video for a loved one at this age can ensure that their stories are preserved for generations to come. While many people remain in good health well into their 70s and 80s, capturing someone on film while they are vibrant and engaged can be incredibly meaningful later on. Nothing in life is guaranteed; least of all time with the people we love most.

For me, this work is deeply personal.

My father passed away when I was 16, and I lost all of my grandparents by the time I was 17. I never knew these family members as an adult, and I missed out on their stories and guidance.

Losing my dad was particularly difficult. Everyone always said he looked like Robert Redford. He had a deep voice and was a natural storyteller. My mom says they worked as a couple because he liked to talk and she liked to listen.

My father lived many lives before I was born: he was a star high school football player, a Marine Corps pilot, a model and commercial actor, a construction worker, a bartender, a late-in-life college student, and finally a union lawyer. He was dedicated to championing the underdog and loved grabbing a beer with his union buddies. He was a colorful person who liked other colorful people.

As a military brat, he spent his childhood moving houses and changing schools. No matter where he lived, my dad loved playing sports. He joined so many teams that he’d spend every afternoon rotating between football, baseball, basketball, and soccer games. Problems only arose when his different teams were scheduled to compete against each other.

Unsurprisingly, he was a popular, talkative, and occasionally disruptive student. One teacher was so fed up with him that he locked my dad in a storage closet and forgot about him. That evening, my grandfather had to enlist the help of a janitor to find and free him.

Growing up, I heard very little about my dad’s home life. His mother developed schizophrenia after her second son was born with a severe developmental disability, and his father assumed a caregiver role for their family of four while enduring military deployments.

In the 1950s, when popular media portrayed middle-class American life with a perfect, artificial sheen, my dad’s chaotic home life must have felt isolating. I think it gave him empathy for people who are different, a dogged resilience, and a fluency and charm with strangers.

Today, I don’t remember his voice or most of his stories—I wish I had more.

Grieving my father is a large part of why founding Pennsylvania Legacy Video is so meaningful to me. It is a joy to work with families who are honoring their loved ones with a legacy video, capturing their memories from childhood to the present day. Video has the unique ability to preserve more than just a narrative; it captures a person’s voice, mannerisms, and sense of humor.

We only have so much time together. At Pennsylvania Legacy Video, we are proud to help families preserve a small, vital part of their loved one’s life and legacy.