Like many of you, over the past week or so I have been
laid up with a nasty flu bug. Too tired
to do much of anything except sleep, I did have ample time to think – about all
kinds of things. Since I have been focusing lately on dysfunctional families
and how we might navigate through holidays and visits with difficult family
members, I think it is time for a shift to positive relationships. I am blessed
to have had many close friends who over the years who have helped shape my life
and how I approach many of life’s challenges today.
I was a skinny eight-year-old just getting off a train
I had been riding for a few hours – all alone, wondering what in the world was
in store for me. With a bunch of other young boys, I boarded a bus to take me
to summer camp in the New Hampshire woods. We were at a crossroads called White
River Junction and wrestling with duffle bags that outweighed most of us. We
pulled into what would turn out to be the magic of Camp Pemigewassett – my
summer residence for the next five years.
Even at the age of eight I was imbued with a natural
calm and keen sense of adventure. Willy was the camp counsellor who was in
charge of all of us junior campers. He was strict, but not unreasonably so.
After all, he was in charge of some serious cargo. Willy was a Princeton
graduate and a schoolmaster professionally. He coached baseball – a sport in
which admittedly I never had any
interest. I was a tennis player when it came to sports, but most of my waking
hours were spent at the Nature Lodge. Collecting hundreds of specimens of any
imaginable living organism – mostly plants, moths and butterflies occupied many
formative hours of exploration.
Willy had little interest in the Nature Lodge and upon
reflection was the serious guy. He was very well respected by all of the other
counsellors, and feared by most of the campers – almost to a fault, except for
me. We developed a close bond out of which grew a true friendship. Over the
years after camp we exchanged Christmas cards. He even came over to visit me
once at my boarding school. Being a typically emotionally stunted schoolboy, I
did not understand the fragility of friendships.
Then one year, I received no Christmas card. I was 17.
My mother handed me a letter hand addressed to me. I did not recognize the
handwriting, but noticed the postmark was Princeton, New Jersey. Willy’s family
lived in Princeton, and the letter was from his brother – another camp
counsellor. Willy was dead. He had died from a brain tumour. This was my first
experience losing what I can only describe as a kindred spirit. I was
shattered. I had no one to turn to for consolation. I had no choice but to just
move on.
I think of Willy every Christmas. I see his infectious
smile in my minds eye. I remember that he was the one person to whom I would
turn if I needed someone to talk to. He was the one who would bring me a treat
of bubble gum. He clapped the loudest when I won nature awards – which were
numerous. He was my safety net.
So lying in bed wondering about what to write about,
his memory came flooding back. I began thinking. What was it about our paths
having crossed that left such an indelible impression on me? I’m not sure I
have it figured out, but what I do know is that he is not alone in my mind. I
have other friends who were snatched away from this physical plane far too
early. The light bulb that went off in my mind was that I have gone through
life with blinders on, my eyes never wide open to the value of true friendship.
In looking at this dynamic from the point of view of
the Six Pillars of Civility, the two principles that stand out are awareness
and gratitude. How often are we fully tuned in to our close friendships? How
often do we take the time to be grateful for these friendships? In Willy’s
case, I am discovering that it is never too late to connect – the mind is a
powerful tool. And although I cannot thank him personally, I can be thankful
knowing I was lucky enough to have had such an awesome mentor in my life - now
that I realize it.
How many Willies have you been lucky enough to know? Hold
them close; visit with them from to time and smile when you do. They’re smiling
back.
