Living the legacy at the Century Mark

Dad would have been 100 today, so we’re having a birthday party in his honor. He can’t attend in person, but he’ll definitely be there, because we’ve incorporated his example into our lives. Now, it’s time for us to share his legacy with a generation that will never get the opportunity to meet him.

Dad was nothing special and a big deal at the same time. He was born in the Depression, enlisted in the Army in World War II, started a business after the war, failed in business more often than he succeeded, raised a family, played some golf, and left the world a better place for his having been here. When he died after years of decline, the funeral home was standing room only, simply because people liked him. A lot.

Maybe people liked him so much because he was more likely to offer help than to make demands. Maybe it was because he was more concerned about other people than he was worried about himself. Definitely, it was tied to his willingness to listen more than he spoke, and to offer actual wisdom worth sharing, including:

Never make light of the way someone puts food on the table.  Whatever job someone has, show some respect, because that job is how they are feeding their family.

Nobody knows what happens behind closed doors. No matter how well you know people, you don’t know enough to make too many judgments about them. Whether it’s another couple or a close friend, there’s a part of their lives you’ll never see and realities you’ll never know.

If everyone threw their problems on the table, they would see what the others were dealing with, pick up their own problems and walk away just a bit happier. This one flows from the same recognition about closed doors, but it’s also a reminder that we only think our problems are the worst because they’re OUR problems.

One thing at a time. He never heard of multitasking, but he would have recognized it as BS. No matter how many times you try to shift gears, you can only do one thing at a time, so focus on the thing you’re doing and get it done right before moving on to the next item.

Learn from my mistakes. I loved this one, because he was willing to open up about his errors in the interest of clearing my path. Luckily, I’ve been able to come up with millions of new mistakes since then, but I’ve only made those mistakes so my own daughters can learn a lesson. You’re welcome, girls.

Right or wrong, I’m always on your side. Whether he agreed with us or not, whether we recognized it or not, he was always focused on our success.

You don’t have to like it, but you have to try it. He was big on us trying new foods or activities, with the promise he wouldn’t insist we do it twice. This one backfired big time when he resisted an offer of escargot, but he finally gave in and tried it. Once.  

Nobody owes you anything. He included himself in this one, which seemed unusual for a parent. He said you have to be grateful for anything someone does for you, because nobody has any obligation to do it. Over years of illness, his gratitude for others’ kindness was one way he maintained his dignity.

You’re not doing it for them; you’re doing it for you. I’ve written about this one before, the lesson he learned when he volunteered to help wounded veterans at the VA hospital after the war. Whenever we do something for someone else, we’re also doing it for ourselves. None of us is completely selfless, and that’s okay, but we should recognize our own self-interest in our so-called “selfless” actions.

The greatest gift is time. I thought I came up with this one, but it turns out I got it from Dad. It’s absolutely true, because time is the ultimate scarce resource and we should share it as if it’s both precious and irreplaceable. Because it is.

I don’t care if the car goes over a cliff as long as you’re okay. I told my kids, “I’ll never cry over a car,” but I thought I came up with that by myself, too. Turns out I’m a helluva plagiarist.
 
Don’t force it. Whenever we’re trying to fix something and we hit a snag, our standard response is to push harder, but that’s also how we end up breaking things. This one started out as advice about physical repairs, but it applies to relationships, too.
 
Don’t run with your hands in your pockets. Autobiographical, since he lost half of his tonsils while running with a pea shooter in his mouth.
 
When you take something apart, line up the pieces in order so you know how to get them back together again. This was one of the first life hacks and we didn’t even have the internet yet.
 
I’ve probably forgotten a few of Dad’s lessons here, but the family will remind me when we get together for his birthday party today. We’ll have the opportunity to honor someone who added to our lives, pass along the wisdom that he shared with us, and give each other the greatest gift: time.

Next week, I debate black holes with a cosmologist from Amsterdam. Really. You’ll want to subscribe so you don’t miss my brilliant insights into dark matter and scientific progress.
 

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