7 Years, 7 Lessons

7 years ago today, we lost my dad at what was way too early of an age (72). Besides a father, he was a lot of things to a lot of people, including me - friend, coach, mentor, teammate, grandpa, neighbor, to name a few. As you may notice from the picture, I was privileged to have him as an "assistant" coach for 9 years while I searched for the best way to coach a group of girls who've long since turned into young adults. Let's be clear - he was a far better coach on his worst day than I could ever be on my best day.

Over the last seven years I've thought a lot about him and the impact he made on many people from many different walks of life. And so it seems appropriate today to share 7 lessons that I learned from being around my dad. Full disclosure, I haven't figured out to easily integrate these into who I am and how I show up. Not sure that I'll ever get to that point but it's definitely a worthy pursuit.

1. If Life Were a Play, It Would Have at Least 3 Acts - my dad was a very normal, very flawed human being. In fact, he battled addiction through the middle part (2nd Act) of his life and that created a host of issues for himself, his family, and his friends. It wasn't pretty. At some point, through pressure from key figures in his life and mostly from himself, he got himself sober and remained that way for the last 26 years of his life. For those who bailed during Act II - and there were more than a few - they missed a beautiful, rich, and rewarding 3rd and final Act.
2. See the Good in People - much to my chagrin, my dad sported what I believed was pair of rose-colored glasses for nearly everyone in his life. It was very hard for me to watch, but later on I began to see that he wasn't as naive as I thought. He was making a conscious choice to seek out people's best, even though he understood that sometimes that required looking beyond the more obvious and less appealing things. Maybe he instinctively knew - because of his own life's trajectory - that flaws aren't the only ingredients in someone's recipe.
3. Patience Isn't the Worst Thing - another quality that I've never been able to master is patience. For some reason my dad found a way to make patience part of his equation, and it enabled him to show up as a consistent and steady force for the people in his life. It also provided him with different opportunities during the course of his life because he never really burned a bridge or shut a door. In that way, he was much smarter than many others - present company included - who may have felt like there was some value in getting somewhere fastest.
4. Network for Good - this area was an interesting one to observe in my dad's life. I do believe that early on, through much of his 2nd Act, my dad tended to network and connect with a lot of people in order to advance his own agenda or get something for himself. Maybe it was getting sober, maybe it was simply getting a little older and wiser, but for the latter part of his life my dad was a fierce 'networker for good.' He was tireless in his desire to help people he knew or even those whom he may have just met, and his ability to connect and network became a hallmark of that mission. There are many more people than I even realize who benefited from my dad's networking prowess, and it was a beautiful and selfless thing to witness.
5. Celebrate the Small Stuff - we lost count of the number of cards, dinners, post-game fountain sodas, etc. that my dad initiated. While it sometimes felt cheesy or over-engineered, my dad insisted on taking the time to stop and enjoy whatever it was that someone had done or accomplished (or even just barely survived). It was a reminder for me - and for my wife and girls - that life is made up of a bunch of "small things" that add up to big pictures. We've done our best to carry on and honor the little things, even though it may seem over the top. Leahy fountain soda celebrations live on in perpetuity!
6. Presence is a Verb - as noted several times throughout these lessons, my dad was anything but perfect (knowing of course that there is no "perfect" on the people side of life). One thing he tried to be though, even during the rough times earlier in his life, was present. When you are younger it's easy to take for granted that someone is there at all times. As I've gotten older it's became painfully obvious that not enough people understand the power of a steady, supportive presence. Furthermore, not enough people understand that it takes effort and intentionality to be that type of person - in other words, presence is a verb. A title, last name, blood relationship, or formal reporting line doesn't negate the fact that someone has to work to be present. My dad did it, over and over again, and we were better for it.
7. Be Vigilant During Good Weather - ok, so this one is a little off-brand compared to the first six lessons, but hear me out. When Spring rolled around, my dad would always remind us to be more dialed-in behind the wheel, which seemed odd after battling and navigating the roads during the rollercoaster Winters in the Midwest. But his point was valid. When the sun starts shining and it appears all clear, drivers seem to lose their inhibitions ever so slightly and accidents tend to happen when least expected. On top of being a very safe and practical thing to remember, I have also realized that my dad's seventh lesson was applicable to how we show up in life. He was, in essence, advocating for a steady hand, to avoid the extreme highs and lows that can come our way and keep us from getting to whatever our next destination may be.

7 years later I can proudly say that my dad was a lot of things to a lot of people, and a lot smarter than I gave him credit for being. Thanks for showing the way, Dad - we love and miss you.