My father modeled how to lead a reflective, connected and meaningful life for me. He passed away over seven years ago and following his death he was still modeling the way for me through the 70+ letters he wrote to me over the course of my life. I find myself reading and re-reading these letters in the years since he died. They are filled with the wisdom he modeled when he was alive and, just like the wisdom he shared with me in person, the wisdom in his letters guide me today as a parent, worker, spouse and community member.
My father once told me the only question you need to ask yourself is "how do I want to spend my time?" Its not about how much money you want to make, what kind of a title you aspire to have, what kind of a degree you want to earn, but rather, it is about how you want to use the one precious thing that is common to all of us - time. What do you want to be doing with your time? That should guide your decisions. I have used that question throughout my life and told it to my children and countless friends and colleagues. It fundamentally changes the way you approach living your life. Focusing on how I wanted to spend my time led me to work part-time for eighteen years of my professional life, it led me to turn down jobs that would take me away from my family at a time when I wanted to be able to go home to them every evening. It led my husband and I to buy a small home so that our mortgage would never rule our lives and employment choices.
My father told me years ago that one of the most important things to be able to do in your professional life is to put yourself in the other person's shoes. Take the time to understand someone
else's perspective in a situation before you react. He modeled this himself in his work as a psychiatrist and I have done that throughout my career.
My father modeled for me how to love, to really, really love someone and let them know in no uncertain terms. He used to look me in the eye and say to me - "Do you know what it really means when I say I love you to you? I really, really mean it. I. Love.You." Wow. Words matter. I have never hesitated to verbalize my love for the people I love. I pause and say the words and look right at them so I know they understand the depth of my love for them.
Moments matter too. After dad became ill with the Alzheimer's disease that took his life, he would say to me, "Stop. Experience this moment with me. Life is precious, this is previous." I think of that when I am with my own kids and husband and in all the random moments in my life. Waiting for the bus on a beautiful morning, enjoying a project I am working on and even feeling down - it shows me I am alive and being in the world.
I make sure that his lessons are passed on to my own children. I often tell them what grandpa Doug would have said to them in a situation or at an important time in their lives. I have read his letters and shared the wisdom in them through my own letters to my kids in college. It takes time and patience to adjust to your new life in college. I have told my nieces and nephews his wisdom about the college experience - "The purpose of the adventure is to find your way." I tell that to myself all the time now as I enter a new phase of my adventure and go back to graduate school and become an empty nester.
My dad modeled the way for me in more ways than I can say. He is a powerful force in my life and one that continues to guide me even now that he is gone.
The final verses of the song
Wanting Memories by Ysaye M. Barnwell describe this very well:
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I thought that you were gone, but now I know you're with me.
You are the voice that whispers all I need to hear.
I know a "Please", a "Thank you", and a smile will take me far.
I know that I am you and you are me, and we are one.
I know that who I am is numbered in each grain of sand.
I know that I am blessed,
again, and again, and again, and again,
and, again.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.