In the past 24 hours I had two electronic encounters with men from my past. One a former colleague who in addition to being a fantastic person has achieved great success in his career. The other the father of a childhood friend I occasionally “see” on Facebook, an employee of the public school system who passed away a few months ago after a long bout with cancer.
The first encounter came in response to a message I’d sent reaching out to this colleague after several years of being out of touch. As warm, encouraging, and personally dynamic as this person has always been in my experience, I read the regret in his mail as he acknowledged being too busy to reconnect. I felt more than a tinge of sadness for myself at the diminishing of a vibrant and influential relationship and even more for him as I imagine what it must be like to surrender the small moments that are the building blocks of relationships to the constant running here and there of great achievement. Of course, this was just one of those small moments, many of which he hopefully retains, and I cannot ignore the many ways in which he inevitably touches lives, albeit indirectly, through the larger actions he devotes his time to. That said, my dominant emotion after receiving that mail was grief.
The second encounter came as I glanced through this morning’s Facebook feed. There next to the smiling profile picture of my friend with her family was a remembrance of her father: “He always knew how to make me feel like the greatest kid in the world.” Perhaps it was the context of remembrance through loss that made her post catch my eye the way few posts do. While I remember her father well, I had little personal interaction with him and, because I moved from the area, never had the opportunity to see him as a community leader as many were later to do. But as little direct impact as he had on my life, I could feel the effect he had on his daughter’s life – helping her see herself in a way that set her up to succeed personally and to positively influence others – and that impacted me today. I resolved to hold up making my children feel like the greatest kids in the world as a standard for my own parenting. Five minutes later I was giving them each an extra kiss and rousing them with gentle teasing rather than the hurried tones that often underlie our morning ritual.
I am thankful for the small moments of learning that come our way each day when we make time to reflect, and for the influence and example of others – in moments strong and otherwise – that help us refocus our own efforts on being the best we can be.
Tags: busy, influence, relationships
