The Relationships We Build Now Can Matter Greatly Later

My parents, as you may know, were teachers. My father was a religious brother from about age 13 into his 40's and got a department store job after leaving and finally got a teaching position that he held until I started college. My mother was a teacher working for public schools for a few years after graduating college, then spent six years teaching in Sudan and Kenya as a Lay Missionary. They married "late in life" for the times as they used to say. They never had a ton of money, had grown up during the depression so were very frugal in general and I always joked around that I wondered if they had some side racket they didn't discuss because I never understood how they put us both through college. Could only ever buying store brand Oatie-O's and 3/$1 canned food or boxed pasta (or whatever it was) really amount to that much?

In fact, my dad had worked to "make his money work for him" quite a bit. In large part with the help of a few key players, including one young man in particular coming up in the world.

My dad did his best to provide for us past his lifetime. When his school offered the opportunity to work with a financial advisor, Dad jumped at it and his FA became a fixture at my house growing up.

My dad loved to set out a nice spread periodically, for his bridge friends, for our meals on holidays or sometimes just because, he learned to carve vegetables in some continuing ed class once, so palm tree carrots with pepper fronds and rose radishes were commonplace. He would set out a more modest spread when his life insurance people and his FA would come over, but there would always be a snack and a coffee or something offered.

And my dad, like me, loved to talk story. He would invite door-to-door evangelists in to talk religion and philosophy and he build bridges this way. He talked story with everyone who was a part of his life, especially those who were working in service of his family.

And so, Dad's FA would be at our house for hours when he came by to conduct business. And my dad really liked, probably loved, really, this guy. My dad had a huge heart and watched this youngster building his career like he did the college ball players he loved to follow from their early days. Dad, a kid who grew up poor seeing education as THE way out of poverty, was grateful for the FA's help enabling us kids to go to college.

They would talk about all manner of things for many hours for many, many years. Dad looked forward to the visits, set the spread, put the good table cloth on the table, made sure the lighting was good, the pens all worked, the right notebooks and adding machine were at the ready.

Dad had a Master's in business, after all, this was his way of keeping that skill set alive.

The goal was to get him and Mom's needs covered into old age, should they live that long, and, hopefully, leave at least a little something for me and my sibling. As they aged, they decided they would prefer to spend that little something doing things WITH us to some extent. Dad did well by us, so far anyway.

When the FA arrived, they'd chat, get down to business and then relax a bit and talk for many hours. My father was a cut up and loved a good joke. Actually, he loved bad jokes too and had a laugh that would make any department Santa Clause jealous. The FA was much more straight laced, likely to smile, just a bit, mostly in the eyes, as Dad would be rolling with laughter. The conversation always ran a full range of topics too. My dad, in the end, would consider this man a friend and held him in great esteem.

So here's the thing. My father's been gone for over a decade. My mom still has some interests in place with the FA my dad developed this great professional and personal relationship with. I just got off the phone with him working out some details on my mom's behalf. Just before we hung up, he said to me, not in these words, mind you, that he valued the conversations he had with my father over the years, valued the relationship they developed. He said, that beyond his fiduciary duties, his work with me now was as much to honor that special relationship with my father.

What we say and do and how we choose to act now matters. In this case, several decades later and over generations. Something we might care to remember as we decide how we show up in the world today. I know this conversation had a great impact on me. And he's right about my dad. He was a special guy.