2 years ago this week, I took my 83-year-old father to Las Vegas. I had a keynote event there and knew he’d get a kick out of the whole scene. He’d never been, and given that my mother had died in 2002, I thought this might be a fun trip in the midst of the Mother’s Day week.

As an admirer of art and of architecture, my father was completely amused by what he called the “elegant kitsch” of the whole Vegas scene, especially at places like The Bellagio and Caesar’s Palace.

As we walked the halls and casinos at The Venetian and The Palazzo, he looked closely at each painting and sculpture—fascinated by the replicas of great Italian Renaissance masters. My father knew these works well because he’d studied art & architecture in graduate school, is a huge fan of Italian art, and for 45 years had been married to my mother who was herself a Venetian scholar.

Over dinner one evening, he and I were talking about life, art and one’s impact on the world.

He acknowledged the enormity of painters such as Michelangelo, Titian, and Tintoretto—their impact and body of work and where he stood by contrast in terms of his influence on the world.

And so I asked him about himself and where he felt his greatest contributions were. He thought for a moment, staring off into the past, and then, with a smile on his face, he said something I will never forget.

About his many years, his work in architecture, industrial design and in the non-for-profit world, his experiences traveling, raising a family and of course being with my mother, he responded,

“The events may have been small…but the satisfaction was great.”

The joy in his smile was profound.

Most of us will never create a legacy as large as that of Michelangelo.

But many of us have a shot at creating a series of small events that bring a few people tremendous meaning and satisfaction.

Amidst the pressure today to accomplish and fulfill one’s potential, to expand, to grow, to spread one’s message, company or brand worldwide, I think of this lesson from my father…and this in turn reminds me of one of my mother’s greatest pieces of advice.

She had built an extraordinary career over the years and was often asked to sit on panels about women, career, life and success. But when people asked how she got to where she was, what her goals and her plan had been, she always responded with this:

“I never had a 5-year plan. I always just did what was next. And I did it as best I could.”

And what an extraordinary way to live.

So cheers to doing what’s next and to doing it as best one can. And cheers to recognizing that the though the accomplishment might be small, the satisfaction may be great—a master work of art in and of itself.