Moving stuff around

My wife and I went out this evening to get takeaways. We go to this quietly warm Chinese restaurant about 5km's from our house run by a very friendly family. While we were waiting for our order, I watched the mother who usually mans the till and takes orders. She was pairing up and wrapping the chopsticks putting them away in a drawer. I watched her move the pairs of chopsticks carefully from one counter to the other and wondered about her life. She moves stuff from one side to the other. In my job I move stuff (industrial equipment) from one place to another. Is that all our lives will mean one day when we are gone? What legacy will we leave? Nothing stays moved anyway. I remember reading how Viktor Frankl recalled in his book, 'Man's search for meaning', that in the concentration camps, in order to break the prisoners, the Nazis would make them do meaningless tasks by having the prisoners spend the entire day digging a hole only to fill it in again afterwards before they returned them to camp. I am supposedly free, but I am still digging and filling holes. Moving stuff in circles. Sell, trade-in, sell.