Reflections on another insignificant birthday
Many years ago, my best friend, my sister with no parents in common, gave me a pair of crystal beer mugs inscribed with “Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was that I had such friends.” Yeats
Yesterday, I was struck dumbfounded by my friends on social media, others in emails and phone calls, that took the time to acknowledge our friendship on my birthday.
I am not a big birthday guy. It celebrates a day we don’t even remember, where we deserve little or no credit. Our birthday does mark our arrival in this world and we only get a finite times to remember that. But otherwise, it’s just another day.
What struck me yesterday was none of that. I knew every single one of people that sent regards and I had memories of being with them at some important time in my life. That’s sort of a miracle. My memory for names is not all that faithful these days. Maybe it never was. I can’t remember.
There were messages from childhood friends. They have known me the longest and could share pictures when my hair was longer and my body thinner. I did not always value some of those early shared times and friendships. My childhood was difficult. Only when I could give up on the childhood concerns of being liked, maybe it was at the first high school reunion I attended, the 20th, when the shared experiences of a small town and about 100 in our graduating class out-weighted the memories and opinions of what happened when. Then on to college, where I met my blond sister with no parents in common.
There are great friends from my professional life. “Professional” at first was a stretch. I started as a waterbed entrepreneur. We made them, we sold them; retail and wholesale. It was a hippy dream. Surprisingly, some of those folks actually have brain cells left and reached out on my birthday.
In the eighties, I learned about real business and technology at a company called CompuServe with mentors and peers, partners and clients. Many became my lifelong friends. There is something about travel. Some of those friends reminded me about a great meal, or a beer over a pool table in some obscure Ohio or Georgia burg. It happened all over the country, Cleveland, Dallas, Columbus, Detroit, Atlanta, St. Lewis, Indy, even alleged business trips to St. Martin where we all got to know each other a little better and saw chickens in the local hospital.
Other friendships came from later business ventures, my MemberHealth friends, and those from selling software in the dot com era. The friendships mattered more than successes or ventures that did not live up to the potential.
I find that it is more difficult to make friends now. Maybe it’s time available or my attitude. That said, there are many exceptions; a crazy Russian, business leaders running painting, technology, banking, non-profits, investment, legal, accounting, marketing, real estate, engineering, B2B service or people companies here in Dallas and elsewhere, my Vistage friends and associates, a group of men and our monthly dinners, even neighbors that don masks during social distancing and come to our deck to sing Happy Birthday.
I notice an important quality in my friends. They are patient and forgiving. Both my first girlfriend and my ex-wife/mother of my son are still friends and sent birthday wishes. And let’s be clear I made a lot of mistakes there and everywhere.
There are those that I don’t see so often. My own family of cousins and their kids, I don’t see them enough. There are friends I lost touch with. Other wives and loves where I screwed up, or something just happened. Ashley, my son off in Missoula, MT. I don’t see you enough. I miss you.
There are those that are not here to post. That best friend I mentioned at the start, my sailing buddy, my Mom and Dad, extended family and too many more-they all live in my heart. They don’t need a Facebook account.
My best friend now, the one that knows me best and still loves me, is my wife Susan. Her family feels like my family. Thank you for accepting me and treating me so well even when that means being the butt of family jokes or ignoring my blunders.
Why does any of my story matter? Why did yesterday seem different than other annual insignificant birthdays?
It has taken me a long time to get it. I think we often value and measure the wrong things. Maybe it’s money, or success, or fame. Perhaps it’s just survival, being still on the field of battle having faced great trials. Maybe we think it’s how many friends, or their success or fame. No, I think Yeats had it right. “I had such friends.” That’s what struck me yesterday on an otherwise insignificant birthday. What an extraordinary group of people. Seems like a life well-lived, so far…
“Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was that I had such friends.”