Lessons From Lives Well Lived

As another year comes to a close, it’s time for annual reflections; and this year, I’ve already done more reflecting than usual. It’s been a year of multiple dimensions - transformation, growth, gratitude and loss.?

This year, my family said goodbye to my father, Dr. Arthur Herbst, and my mother’s brother, Judge Edward Ginsburg, in short succession. My father was 92, and I am incredibly lucky I had 62 years with him. I do not take that for granted in the slightest. But even so, the loss is profound, and I miss him every day. Their passing has led me to think deeply about their lives, their legacies, and of course what I can learn from them that might impact my own life.

I find myself replaying the tape in my mind, and, in particular, thinking about the contrasts between these two great men – their styles and approaches, unique trademarks and how they complemented each other.

My father was an unstoppable force: his work ethic and unrelenting will drove nearly every aspect of his life. He had the utmost integrity and prized accountability, effort and results. He was fair, factual and structured. These qualities led him to great success and respect among his peers in medicine and in the broader community. At home, he instilled in all of us a drive to do our best, always. This is something that has fueled me at work and led me to continue to grow at home. The gift from my Dad is that I try to learn from each situation, but also I just continue to try.

My uncle, on the other hand, led with empathy. He was so engaging, and loved asking questions – what’s the last book you read? Who’s your favorite sports team? Or his go-to question, who's your hero? People lit up around him; he made you want to stay and talk a little longer. He opened my eyes to the power of a different style, one that led with humanity and empathy first.

As a young adult, I found myself wrestling with the pressure to meet my father’s expectations – or more accurately, my understanding of his expectations. It was my uncle who was able to remind me to find my own way. Realizing it was up to me – all of it, the what, the how, the why – was among the key insights that helped me begin to carve my own path. No doubt, the drive and unstoppable will that infused me from my father has also served me, then and since. But I have learned how it needs to be modulated with the empathy my uncle embodied.

One thing they shared is that they were both way ahead of their time in how they supported women. My mom has shared that my dad treated her like an equal partner in their marriage – though not common for men of his generation, he made sure that my mother had a full view of the family finances and was comfortable managing household expenses. As his daughter, I took note of how he spoke about women, including his lab partner at Harvard Medical School and two of his early mentors, a married couple. He always expected the same of my brother Arthur and me. Whenever we talked about any potential life paths there was never the hint of sexism, what would be ok for a “woman” versus a “man.” It was a clean slate as far as he was concerned. As I began to move through my career, he would always want to understand what could be next? He never tired of discussing the path. When I would get a promotion he would congratulate me and then immediately ask “are they going to pay you more money?” This could seem crass and even a bit invasive, but that is not what he meant nor how I took it. He wanted me to advocate for myself. In his eyes, I was worth it, and that helped me believe I was, too. And this is certainly something I’ve tried to pass along as advice to others throughout my career.?

My uncle was father to two daughters, accomplished in their professional and personal lives. His own wife went back to law school while married to him, certainly not typical for the time. After retiring from the bench he formed Senior Partners for Justice to help people in Probate and Family Court who were unable to afford an attorney.

Beyond my own experiences with these two great men, I think their legacy shines brightest through their grandchildren, six in total. In my own children, I see my father’s persistence, with a dose of humor that I guess that extra generation affords. Patrick, my son, had the whole crowd chuckling at the memorial service when he told the story of his grandfather teaching him to play chess: my father began to play with Patrick at age 3 and 4, and let’s just say he did not hold back - my father would beat him in 2, maybe 3 moves, max. This went on for years (!) before I found out. When I did, I called my father, upset that he had been crushing this poor kid, and, as Patrick retold, his grandfather’s response (delivered flat with no particular humor, I might add) was “well, he needs to learn how to play properly.” Let that sink in for a minute! And Maggie, my daughter, has me smiling just remembering her retelling of his visit to her university in Scotland, where he prioritized all the meals, entirely fixated on and fascinated by what would be eaten, and of course, what time to arrive! My brother’s daughter, Marina most definitely inherited her grandfather's persistence and Paula is following in his footsteps, having completed her first year of medical school. My Uncle never missed an opportunity to be with his grandsons Carlo and Max. Whether it was watching them at one of their many sporting events, taking a kayak in Jaffrey, NH or most favorite of all, going out for breakfast.?

I could go on and on about the lessons each member of our family has absorbed, in the air we breathe because of these two great men (and also, no less impactfully: the women, their wives, but I’ll save those reflections for hopefully many years to come!). Honoring them feels important, not only because of the many insights we gleaned from them – to never give up, to always be accountable, but not to forget the importance of connectivity, because ultimately it is the power of human connection that drives impact and success.

In a world where it seems like someone falls from grace every other day, these men managed to live their values their entire lives. Of course they were not perfect! I feel so lucky that I have had these figures in my life and realize fully that not everyone has that – a great privilege, indeed.

Wishing you all a warm holiday season and happy end to 2023. I’ll leave you with the last line of my father’s obituary, “In lieu of flowers, the family requests that you give someone you love a hug.”?