Life, Loss, and Legacy
Last Friday, April 19th was a study in contrasts. Paul and I had been to the AOPA Policy Forum where we got fired up about engaging with legislators to teach them about O&P. Then we went to Kennesaw State to talk with 2nd year grad students about the realities of working in the field. Their excitement and energy was infectious. I got home from that trip on Wednesday and learned of the death of the father of a childhood friend. His funeral was scheduled for Friday, April 19, the same day we planned to celebrate my birthday.
They say our neighborhood was a bit of a bubble, there were 7 of us, all the same age and our parents all looked out for us. We rode our bikes everywhere and traveled in packs. We all kept in touch through college but as time went by, we all got carried away with our careers and families. Now it seems to be funerals that pull us together. I was reminiscing with my friend about her dad when she mentioned that he had written a poem in college that he carried with him, on his person, his whole life. She said it was included in the memorial materials provided. At the time this blog was the furthest from my mind and the thought of writing about this didn’t occur to me. I did not ask permission to share it, so I won’t do that here.
Her dad was a very popular dentist in town, well-loved, judging from the public condolences. He was not my dentist, but I remember him as a very patient man, always ready to engage in a conversation and to motivate us as youngsters to do our best at whatever we do. Settling for anything was not in his nature. “If you going to do something, take it up a notch. If you want to sell jewelry, own the jewelry store.”
I do not know what inspired his poem, but I do know that he wrote it after he saw his wife-to-be, but before he met her (that was a cute story they told). They were married for over 60 years! His poem was about goals. In the first stanza, he said goals can be like clouds, ethereal, misty, and elusive.
Next, he encourages us to “fly up and embrace it” and as soon as you realize you have attained it, it dissolves only to “appear again afar.” My friend said her dad taught them the importance of goal setting and always reaching for the next goal.
We talked about retiring at some point and she said she didn’t think she ever could “totally retire.” It has been so ingrained in her to keep achieving. We talked a bit more about her dad and I realized that all of the kids I grew up with had gone on to have successful careers and all have given back to their communities through volunteer efforts and other means. We all had good relationships with everyone’s parents, and they all offered sage advice. That “bubble” in which we grew up was colored by people like my friend’s dad, Dr. William Friedman. We were lucky kids, though we didn’t know it at the time.
I encourage you to set lofty goals, never give up, and teach the children in your sphere well.