Since my father died, I find myself thinking a lot about how different we were. I’m a loud, everyone-knows-I’m-in-the-room kinda gal. He’s quiet and if you weren’t looking for him, you wouldn’t notice him. Except to say “Hey, that guy’s got great eyes.” Dad didn’t need a seat at the table — he didn’t need or want influence across a broad team. He kept his own counsel. He didn’t argue or try to persuade people to his position. He rarely gave advice.
Me? I love leading teams. I love making things happen and driving to results. I have an almost pathological need to get people on the same page, holding firm to my position but trying to see theirs and bending to a place in the middle. Dad just listened, made up his own mind, and then acted. Regardless of what others were doing.
Dad quietly acted. He didn’t make a big production or even tell you what was going on. Me? I have a blog. What more do you need to know.
But in looking at the ways we’re different, I see a lot of ways we are the same. Dad did what he thought was right. Dad acted rather than waited. He was kind. He laughed a lot. He liked to make jokes and tease others. He had a way about him so that everyone liked him. Those are true for me, too.
Mostly, when I think about something and wonder “what would Lowell do?” I find that he would do what I would do. Be kind. Be honest. Try to make things better. We’d do it differently — he quietly, me all out loud, but that’s just the packaging, and really doesn’t matter.