What Next?

I was always in awe of him...sometimes for his brilliance...sometimes for how normal he was...

As our time together progressed, I seriously set my sights to being "half the man" that he was...I believed that this was an admirable goal...

He once confided that his goal for me was to make me twice the man he wanted to be...

"My job is a lot easier than yours...you are simply too naive to know better..."

I think that he meant that as a compliment...or at least I hoped that to be the case!

He had been hardened and narrowed by experience...he recognized that...

"Wisdom often plays cruel tricks on a person...and limits potential...for the sake of safety..."

"When you are old and wise...do not let it do that to you...better yet...never get old and wise...it is the beginning of the end..."

It was a “child-like enthusiasm for life's offerings” that truly set him apart from the regular world. I could see however that this trait was not natural, but a decision, like many of his other characteristics.

"You are never handed a perfectly balanced pallet to paint your picture with..." he would advise, "The colors that wait and those you finally use to paint your masterpiece are solely your decision...the neat thing about life is that it always puts the primary colors down for you, in sufficient quantity, that you can blend them into any color you want..."

That insight into the human condition always inspired me...and this was one of those "words of wisdom" that he repeated often. I never grew tired of listening to him say it...it was memorized from some sacred text...

He could repeat those words verbatim...and at one point...I repeated them with him as he said it...

I often think that he made repetition a mentoring tool...it ensured that I got the message and got it correctly!

Sometimes he would start saying something that I heard before...and I would cut him short with..."I know...I know...(then what ever he was saying)..."

That only egged him on!

I knew that if I said those two words..."I know"...the next few weeks...I would hear that axiom endlessly...

He repeated whatever it was...until the "I know" barrier tumbled and I got the real message, fully...

As frustrating as it was...it was what I often needed...and it was for him too!

He told stories endlessly...sharing the joys and pains, the fears and victories...and losses...

Every lesson that he wanted to give...had a dozen of his life experiences attached...some of the linkages were stretches...but if you looked hard enough...they were there and VERY strong...

"Mankind has lost something, for the most part, that will ultimately lead to a slowing of our development as a species..."

"...Story Sharing..."

"The thing that sets you apart from most of the people that I meet is that you take time to listen to the stories...really listen! That means a lot to me..."

His voice faded into the background of the moment, as I thought about that comment...

My grandparent’s house was an old farm house...they were dairy farmers at one time...and the farm was awesome...an old two-story log house (the original homestead) still stood...the barn was huge...a granary...tractor sheds...garages...a huge chicken coop...pump houses...it had it all!

The house sent a subtle message itself...

The central room and the largest was the dining room...

Vying for second largest was the kitchen...it had 2 stoves, 2 refrigerators, a chest freezer and more than enough room for everyone to lend a hand in cooking...

You had to go through the dining to get any place else in the house...

Central to the house and to that generation was eating...more important than that was the message that was shared by the size of the room...it was not small...it invited everyone to share in the bounty of the harvest...or the meager left-overs...everyone was welcome...no one had to ask to join ...there was always room for a few more...

That feature alone made a huge impression on me...it was warm, inviting, and always smelled of wonderful delicacies...from early in the morning to well past bed time!

On the opposite end of the house was the living room...a parlor...it had a TV...and couches and “grandpa’s chair...”

Being lower on the "family alpha-scale”...we never got the choice of what TV show we watched...

At first out of boredom...and later because this was just what we did...we would retreat to the dining room and sit at the table and eat some of grandma's cookies or sweet rolls...or whatever was at the table...

In that room was the "older generation." They sat around the table and talked and shared stories...farming stories, hunting stories, fishing stories, lumber-jack stories, the last trip to town stories...how they addressed some challenge and what they learned...it was awesome!

I looked forward to every visit...for the food AND the stories...

I can recall nearly every one of them...they were not just their stories...they became my stories!

The conversations were so fun to listen to...one would talk and the entire group became and audience who would intently and patiently listen...then contribute, at their appointed turn...some of the stories were entertaining...and...some were sad...they elicited many emotions...and made differences in the lives of everyone who shared in the food, coffee and words...

This was important to that generation...it was their way and a part of them...and the house even sent that message...

My grandparents and the house said,"PLEASE...come in...If you have bounty...bring it in...And share it with us...if times are hard and you don't...come in and we'll share what we have...there is more than enough for everyone...sit...get comfortable...it is safe and warm here...what is ours is also yours..."

There were times that I even got bold enough to add to the conversations...and the adults would quietly listen...sometimes one or two would wink at my mother or father...and then add their wisdom to my contribution...it made me feel really a part of the people...

"...What people miss is the wisdom that is shared in story telling...when it is shared...it is no longer just my story...it becomes our story..."

His words...momentarily brought me back to the conversation at hand...

The stories from each one who shared...were well told...They elicited the most vivid mental images...I felt as if I were there...their stories were my stories...and I learned so much from them...without the pain...or the lost finger...or the frost-bite...I learned what not to do...and I learned what to do...their experience became my experience...Their wisdom became my wisdom...

Many if not most of those story-tellers are gone...but their lives continue, in my memories and my wisdom...what little I have...

"...This generation will have to wait much longer for "wisdom" to take hold...because they refuse to sit long enough to listen to the stories...they are going to have to experience those things for themselves...in fact they are going to miss many experiences...How sad..."

"That is why wisdom has become an endangered species!"

"When you choose people to mentor...look for those who sponge up the stories...don't waste your time on impatient people..."

"I do not know what makes some people patient enough to sit and listen and others not..."

"I do!'" I replied...let me tell you a story..."