“He was one of those people that it was a privilege to know,” Bob’s cousin said.
The cousin was an old guy, six hundred miles away, with an ailing wife. He wouldn’t be able, he said, to come to the funeral. He knew that Bob and I had been longtime neighbors and friends and wanted to make sure I knew that Bob had passed.
His comment about Bob was the most healing thing anybody ever said to me when someone dear to me died. Instead of deepening my feelings of loss, his words elevated Bob to the pedestal he deserved in my mind.
Instead of a focus on the emptiness his passing left in my life, they let me feel enriched by having known him. They freed me to recall all that we had shared together, the good times and bad, and to find peace in remembering.
They shifted my focus from me, from my sadness over the big hole Bob’s passing left in my world, and instead, let me feel like I’d been honored just to know him.
That was a new feeling for me when it came to Bob. Often, I viewed him as a pest intruding on my valuable time. He could ramble on for half an hour without saying a single thing that I could relate to. But he had a good heart and a sweet disposition and I couldn’t deny him my ear.
A couple months have gone by since he died, and I still hear his cousin’s words when something reminds me of Bob. They wrap the memories in a kind of warm glow that unfailingly makes me smile.
Now I realize how true his cousin’s words are, not only of Bob, but of everyone. Even the ones we don’t especially enjoy or think well of.
Everyone is a teacher. Everyone plays his part. Everyone, even the annoying or upsetting ones, does the best he can to get through life in whatever way he knows.
In the long run, we learn things from everybody who touches our lives. Each one enriches us, expanding our knowledge and understanding of life, and of ourselves.
We learn humor from the people in our lives, and compassion. We hear tales of adventure, of courage and cowardice. We hear how kind people can be, and how treacherous, how brilliant and how stupid.
The people in our lives show us what we judge as good and bad. We learn what pleases us and what doesn’t. And if we’re lucky, we learn to see how others mirror parts of ourselves, deepening our insight into who we are. They help us see what we can aspire to, and what we want to decline.
It may not feel like much of a gift at the time. You might wish you’d never met someone. You might wish he’d just disappear. You might feel a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you think about this one or that.
But everyone who enters your life is only there to let you see your own self more clearly, and for that they deserve your recognition, regardless of any other judgments they may stir.
Recognizing them as a teacher opens you to recognizing the privilege they offer you simply by appearing in your life, the gift their presence brings.
For me, the gift Bob brought was a lesson in turning grudging tolerance into genuine appreciation. Granted, it took me a long time to open that gift and a lot of inner effort to adjust my attitude. But he kept coming back until I finally got it, until I realized that knowing him was, as his cousin said, a privilege.
It’s a privilege for me that you’re here, too, reading these words, letting me share my thoughts with you. May they help you open the gifts that others bring you with a fresh awareness of the richness and wisdom they hold.
Wishing you a week of golden rememberings.
Warmly,
Susan