What Was So Damn Important Anyway?
Posted on January 22nd, 2013
My friend and client, Juan, went on a holiday a couple of months ago. Juan’s from a small town in the Pyrenees, just outside of Barcelona, and he was going back home with his wife and kids for a two-week vacation. Unfortunately, it turned out to only be a one-week vacation because his company’s international marketing meeting was held in Barcelona during his break and he felt duty-bound to attend.
Of course I could empathize. When Gloria and I got married, we didn’t go on a honeymoon because I had some client emergency or other and had to cancel our trip so I could deal with it. But here’s the funny part: 27 years later, we still remember that we didn’t go on a honeymoon but we can’t remember what it was that was so damn important at the time. And even though we have worked with the Greater Miami Convention & Visitors Bureau for going on 20 years now, we don’t have any 26-year old client relationships so whoever it was isn’t with us anymore regardless of what sacrifice we made for them.
What was so damn important anyway?
My friend Alan
The past few weeks have been dark ones where I’ve attended a number of funerals, including one for my longest running friend, Alan Somerstein. Alan’s mom and my mom met in the maternity ward at Mt. Sinai Hospital on Miami Beach and he and I were lifelong friends after that. Alan and I were born five days apart and we used to tell people that we were twins. If they asked who was the older twin, I’d proudly answer “Me.” If they asked how far apart we were born, Alan would say “Five days.” Then we’d walk away giggling while they scratched their heads and tried to figure it out.
Alan and I were roommates for a couple of years after graduation and stayed in touch after we both had gotten married and started raising kids. And even though Alan was a rabid sports fan and I never even know what type of game people are talking about, we always found things to chat about.
At most funerals, people go on and on about how nice the recently deceased was, even though they often weren’t. But Alan was. Alan was easily the nicest person on the planet.
At Alan’s funeral, the speakers all talked about how much we loved him. We told stories about Alan’s life and how he made us smile. And his daughter Lindsey made us cry with her poignant words of love and loss.
But no one talked about how much money Alan made, how big his house was or what kind of car he drove. Not because he wasn’t successful — Alan was the leading salesperson at his company every single year, even after he got sick and had to cut his hours way back — but because those things no longer seemed to matter. Still, like the honeymoon I never went on and the family vacation that Juan cut short in Spain, those are the things we worry about every day.
The stories that made us laugh through our tears were the stories of the kind words Alan had for everyone, his concern for their well-being, and the funny things he did and said in his life.
In his beautifully crafted The New York Times article, You Are Going To Die, Tim Kreider writes, “You are older at this moment than you’ve ever been before, and it’s the youngest you’re ever going to get. The mortality rate is holding at a scandalous 100 percent. Pretending death can be indefinitely evaded with hot yoga or a gluten-free diet or antioxidants or just by refusing to look is craven denial.”
As Erma Bombeck wrote in her 1979 book Eat Less Cottage Cheese and More Ice Cream, “If I had my life to live over again I would have waxed less and listened more. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television… and more while watching real life. But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it… look at it and really see it… try it on… live it… exhaust it… and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.”
Alan did just that. And I hope I’m halfway smart enough to learn that from him. After all, what was so damn important anyway?
31 thoughts on “What Was So Damn Important Anyway?”
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By Bruce Turkel
That was lovely and so, so true. I am so sorry for your loss and I hope that you and your friend’s family is doing as well as possible. We should all be so lucky to be so loved by our friends as you loved Alan.
Fantastic piece, Bruce. It’s easy to lose track of what’s really important. I recall someone else once saying: “Nobody on their death bed says they wished they had spent more time at work.” So true. Thanks for this
Beautiful reminder. I am sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing Alan with me. His influence lives on. Thank you.
How fortunate to learn life lessons while we still have time to share the most important things.
The underlying premise of all my seminars and other programs is: Time is a non-renewal resource and, arguably, it’s is our most important. Memories are snapshots in time, which makes make them the currency of life. At the end of our time here we want to look back over our memories and say Yes, I made good use of the time I had.
I regularly make that point somewhere in each of presentations because it’s too easy to get caught of in the minutiae of our days and forget why, in my case, we want to learn better time management.
Eloquent and beautiful post, Bruce. Thanks.
I learned a long time ago to be present to the present. But I’ve never managed to break the habit of worrying about the past and future. Thanks for the powerful reminder to be fully alive TODAY!
What a beautiful tribute to your “twin.” Thanks for using your writing talents to communicate such a powerful reminder.
Thanks for sharing Bruce. Eloquent post as always. PS-What is so damn important is that you touch lives!
Thank you Bruce. You were and are a true friend to Alan and all of us.
Bruce, sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your story.
I have this conversation with many of my clients expressing the same thoughts you just shared.
I always ask my clients when faced with the decision of going to see a client or sharing an experience with a loved one, “Will this matter in a month, a year, 10 years?” If the answer is no then it may not be imperative that you do it.
Many blessings my friend.
Cheers,
AC
We can all talk the talk of placing family at the tippy-top of our hierarchy. But in the moment – THIS moment (whenever THIS may come) – work IS important. Clients have needs, and we have obligations to them. The balance is finding the sweet spot where we can serve these two masters. It might not come simultaneously. But our family’s taken three-week vacations, and I’ve missed dance recitals for work. I’ve blown off a weekday or three to hang with the kids in from school, and I’ve been tucked away in my office (albeit a home office) with the door closed and the tacit nod that, unless it’s REALLY important, I should not be disturbed. OK, so a kiss hello or goodbye from the wife or kids is REALLY important. Knowing the importance of that – in that moment – is where you find the balance…
Absolutely on target and meaningful. We all need to pay attention to this and live every day to its fullest.
great read, bruce. thanks for sharing it.
Awesome words Bruce, sorry to hear of the loss of a great friend, but I love how you celebrate his life.
What a nice tribute to your friend. Sorry about your loss. Too many have left us too soon.
Bruce, I am so sorry for your loss. I never met Alan but I am sure those who did are glad that you have created this wonderful remembrance. As usual, you have conveyed great wisdom to us all. I am grateful for it, as always.
Beautifully written, Bruce.
I am so very sorry for the loss of your dear friend, Alan. He’s far too young.
I do recall, when attending your and Gloria’s wedding, something mentioned about the honeymoon. I’m so sorry you missed yours. I’m certain you and Gloria have made up for it, but I also understnad it’s just never, truly the same as that first, real honeymoon.
Love to you and Gloria and your beautiful family,
Karen
First, sorry for your loss. A very moving from the heart post.
Great piece Bruce.
I am sorry for your loss. What a great lifelong friendship.
During my corporate days I attended a lot of very interesting and memorable meetings. But one I remember very well is one I didn’t attend. I was going to Brazil to have my first presentation to the CEO, and I decided to cancel because it seemed our second son was going to be born a couple of weeks early. He wasn’t born early and I missed a very important meeting, and I am so happy I did. It felt good at the moment, and it feels great telling the story to my son
I love this! I lost my husband 3 1/2 years ago. He was 53. I’m now 56. Since then I’ve lost my sister-in-law, who was a dear childhood friend, and my mom. I’ve told my children over and over that, if there’s one thing to gain from these tragedies, it’s the lesson that life is short and that we need to live everyday to the fullest – as if it’s the last one. Thank you for this well articulated reminder!
Thank you for your comments, Adrienne. I’m so sorry for all your losses.
One of the best things I’ve read in a while Bruce. And very timely for me. Thanks for sharing!
Bruce : once again, your article, as a good campaign , left me thinking. and I remembered a nice poem, atributed to Borges , whose real author is Don Herald, enjoy:
If I had my life to live over, I would try to make more mistakes. I would relax. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I know of very few things that I would take seriously. I would be less hygienic. I would go more places. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less bran.
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary troubles.
You see, I have been one of those fellows who live prudently and sanely, hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I have had my moments. But if I had it to do over again, I would have more of them – a lot more. I never go anywhere without a thermometer, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute. If I had it to do over, I would travel lighter.
It may be too late to unteach an old dog old tricks, but perhaps a word from the unwise may be of benefit to a coming generation. I may help them to fall into some of the pitfalls I have avoided.
If I had my life to live over, I would pay less attention to people who teach tension. In a world of specialization we naturally have a superabundance of individuals who cry at us to be serious about their individual specialty. They tell us we must learn Latin or History; otherwise we will be disgraced and ruined and flunked and failed. After a dozen or so of these protagonists have worked on a young mind, they are apt to leave it in hard knots for life. I wish they had sold me Latin and History as a lark.
Bruce, I am so sorry for your loss but how lucky you were to have such a special friend. Thank you for writing your blog. Last year I dropped a stressful account so, I could enjoy my family and my present life. I am so glad every day that I made the changes. I want to try and live life with no regrets and as my hubby says “carpi diem honey”.
Powerful!!! Extraordinary execution of a deep topic. Sorry for your pain and loss.
this is a beautiful post Bruce. Maybe its time you take yoyi on a honeymoon! I’m sorry for your loss.
No on gives you time off – you have to take it!
Thank you Bruce! I always enjoy your blog but this one was really special. So very sorry for the loss of your friend Alan and so very grateful for the thoughts and heart that you put into articulating his legacy. There is much for all of us to learn and I thank you!
Bruce, there’s still time to go on the honeymoon. Even though it won’t be exactly the same at this point, it will still be memorable and can’t be missed. We were able to somehow take three weeks off, maybe because the duration included those off-peak days between Xmas and New Years. That time in Europe is still the best and most memorable time of our lives. Don’t cheat yourselves of it!
Wow. as a relatively new business owner, this is important to remember.