2015 - November

Dear Friends,

This month’s theme is ‘character.’ I’ve thought about that on my weekly drive down to see my father. I have heard it said that my father is a character, without knowing exactly what that means.

Sometimes, the word is used to describe a role played in some great drama. Or someone who stands out because of their engaging personality, quirkiness or humor.

Our character is something of a stamp. It is a mark of our moral identity. It could be good or bad. Someone recently remarked that, ‘Donald Trump is certainly a character,’ but I don’t think they meant it in an enviable way.

At times we ask if a person ‘has character.’ But the question goes beyond their ‘personality.’ It is about what they stand for. Especially when they stand before great challenge.

Helen Keller had character. She wrote 12 books, raised money for the blind, women’s and worker’s rights. Despite being blind and deaf herself.

Beethoven’s 9^thsymphony – one of the world’s most acclaimed pieces of music – was written after he’d gone deaf. He never heard a note of his own composition. He sawed the legs off his piano so he could feel the vibrations while he played.

Nelson Mandela was a political prisoner for 27 years. While jailed, he organized on behalf of other prisoners for better conditions, food, study privileges. When he was released he chose not to channel all the power and influence he’d gained toward revenge. Instead, he pursued peace, reconciliation and democracy for the country he loved.

Albert Einstein, Alexander Graham Bell, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Edison, Walt Disney and Winston Churchill are all said to have displayed signs of learning disabilities like dyslexia. They did poorly in school, told they were stupid, talentless, unteachable, and that they would never be anything but “mediocre.” They could have just listened to those voices and settled for a much smaller version of themselves. But they didn’t.

My father has skin cancer. And kidney failure. And a variety of other health issues that come with age. His early life had other challenges – growing up during the depression and being left with various relatives for long periods of time.

My father learned fortitude through adversity. Resiliency. Inner strength. But now he is almost 88 and he is tired.

My father has never shared his feelings much. Never talked about meaning. But in the last year, he’s begun to bring up conversations. Sometimes they’re endearingly awkward. But they usually arrive at what he wants to say. Things like “I love you,” “Sorry” “Thank you” and “Goodbye”. Topics that reveal his character.

Watching my dad shows me the person I want to be. Someone willing to stand up to adversity. Who shows up. Sees what’s needed. Does what he can.

These are also the things that good communities do. Stand up for others. See what’s needed. Do what we can.

This community’s character is a lot like my father’s. It’s like a promise we’ve made. A promise we’ll keep.

To the Glory of Life