Steven W. Vannoy's Monthly Column

Memorial: My Greatest Teacher

It's 5:18 PM, December 31st, 2003. My father is 88 and his doctors say he may last a few more hours or a few more days. I've been sitting by his hospital bed for the past seven days and we've been talking nonstop for the last couple of hours. Actually, I've been doing all of the talking -- Papa has been in a deep sleep for the last several days. But I have a strong sense that he's hearing and sensing my every word and feeling.

"Papa, as you know, I facilitate leadership training all over the world. Therefore, I have the opportunity to learn from some of the planet's greatest leaders. But as I sit here tonight and reflect on our life together, I now realize that you have been my greatest teacher of all. You have been the person who has taught me the most enduring and most important leadership and life principles.

"For example, you are a man of very few words, because you listen so deeply. Of course, I always knew that your intense listening is one of the reasons you have learned so much, but here's the piece I didn't understand fully until today. Since you speak so little and listen so much, when you do speak, everybody pays attention and everybody remembers what you say.

"Yes, you are a man of few words, but rarely could any of your words be called warm and fuzzy! I know that your granddaughters have hoped that someday they would hear you say back to them, "I love you."

"Well, it hasn't happened so far and I'm not holding my breath. But I can tell you that they treasure dozens of memories of when your actions demonstrated your love. Do you remember how you took them to the pond so they could go ice skating when they were just seven and nine? And do you remember how you wouldn't let them go out on the ice until you walked clear across the lake and back? Yes, Papa, they know how much you love them, and true love goes a lot deeper than just three little words.

"I remember as a small boy how I was sometimes concerned that our neighbors had bigger and newer tractors. But impressing people was the last thing on your mind. You were interested in the smartest way of using resources. And while you didn't have the biggest tractors, you were the first to terrace and irrigate your land, the first to go to 21-inch rows, to the first to use safer chemicals. No wonder our neighbor always said that your land was the most productive in the community, and his dad always said that you were the smartest farmer he knew.

"Papa, it's no secret that there's a few people who don't like you, and others that seem to avoid you, or are even afraid of you. I think that it's because you always speak the truth. But I never understood the significance of your directness until this moment. I now realize that since you aren't concerned about what people think about you, it gives you the advantage of doing what's right versus doing what's popular. What would happen if our politicians and corporate leaders learned to live this way? As your grandson Stephen says, "Grandpa is brutally honest and it may occasionally get him in trouble, but it usually saves him trouble."

"Papa, in my travels I've met many great leaders who I could absolutely count on to honor their contracts, their agreements, and their handshakes. But you're the only one I've ever known who doesn't need a contract or any of those things. To me, you will always be the ultimate model of integrity and responsibility. I know one thing for sure, whether people like you or not, all of them would trust your word.

"I am always amazed at how much people treasure your friendship and now I think I know why. You are totally authentic. If you like them and spend time with them, it's because you are a friend, pure and simple, with no ulterior motives.

"I so clearly remember our summer canoeing and camping treks into the Canadian Boundary Waters. Oh, how I'd look forward to those adventures. Now I see that it was you who taught me to love and respect nature so much. Now every walk I take through the forest is a sacred journey. Now I realize why -- why every bird, every wildflower, every blade of grass, and every tree is sacred. Thank you, Papa.

"I'm sorry I've been crying so much, Papa. I only saw you cry once. It was when you and I were standing out in the pasture in January 1975, burying our beautiful old dog, Doc. You were hurting so much. I'm sorry I didn't know what to say. I'm not sure what to say now either.

"I do know this: little by little, over the last few days, I've gone from hoping you'll take one more breath to simply loving each breath you take. Every moment with you is precious. I know you have to go soon and I just want to tell you that, more than any other teacher, you have given me an indelible set of values to cherish as I now get ready to carry your torch. Your legacy and lessons are a priceless gift to my life. I hope I can make you proud."

My dear papa died peacefully Jan 1, 2004 at 9:01 PM. I was holding his hand when he took his last breath. He had 88 wonderful years.

Papa always did a lot of community volunteer work. In his late retirement, when he was the Rosehill Cemetery caretaker, his old friend Harry Anderson used to call and say, "Hey Warren, do you have some time? What ya doing? Why don't we walk the cemetery?" Warren and Harry would often spend the afternoon walking the cemetery and sharing old stories about much loved friends, neighbors and family. He will now join those ranks and will be much loved for all eternity.

As for me, I not only get to keep Papa's lessons forever, I now have a wonderful new reason to celebrate New Year's Day.

"… the leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old, but his blood runs through my instrument and his song is in my soul. My life as been a poor attempt to imitate the man, I'm just a living legacy to the Leader of the Band."
Dan Fogelburg, "The Leader of the Band"

(c) 2003 Pathways to Leadership, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.