- March 21, 2018 -
With pushing 60, my definition of "old" keep changing.
I really like hanging around old(er) people.
+ They know how to have a real conversation...they just get right to the meat of the matter. No messing around with pleasantries. lol
+ They're opinionated...they've earned the stripes to call a spade a spade.
+ They're wise...if someone has gone through 70+ years and still has a sense of humor, I want to talk to that person!
+ Their filters aren't what they used to be...heck, they have no filters! 🙂
...and that suits my contrarian nature so I'll be a darn good old fart!!
My grandfather on my dad's side witnessed the Armenian Genocide. He was a young boy during the deportations, the marches, the killings.
His story of escaping to the US is harrowing. He didn't like talking about it...but before he died years ago, my aunt recorded him telling what he remembered while Cheryl sat with him and asked questions.
I need to find that tape to make sure it stays in the family archives.
I also remember Sundays growing up...
Sunday dinners included as many people as could cram around our dining room table...missionaries, neighbors, people from church. Everyone was welcome.
I swear they all came for my mom's pilaf and apple pie!
After dinner Turkish coffee was brought out, and we kids were all ears while the adults told stories about other countries, business, politics...
Until the men, full and happy, moved to the living room and fell asleep...mouths open and snores all around.
My parents weren't wealthy but they shared what they had with whoever had a need.
My dad was known as a snappy dresser. He was 6'5" and had a voice that I swear sounded like God...he was a man of few words so when he spoke, he was heard lol
One Sunday, a missionary came for dinner and had a suit jacket on that was a bit outdated and had seen better days. As they were saying their goodbyes later that afternoon...
Pop told him he'd pick him up in the morning - no other explanation. Just to be ready.
Monday morning came...and my dad took him to the men's clothing store in town and bought him a new set of duds.
And that's just one story. At my dad's memorial a couple of weeks ago, person after person shared their stories of the difference Art Sr. made in their lives.
The same at Cheryl's dad's memorial a few months ago...how he without fanfare helped his employees who ran into tough times financially...missionaries he and Cheryl's mom supported...people he found jobs for doing stuff around his home that he could have done himself.
People, as business owners and entrepreneurs we've been given an opportunity to make a difference.
What we do with that responsibility is endless...
+ Mentor a struggling biz owner who can't get a foothold in his startup.
+ Reach out to a customer who is facing some personal issues and offer your help. Better yet, do something unexpected to make their day a little easier.
+ Take a new hire out to lunch and find out what makes him tick...just because you're interested.
+ Hell...have your team and their families over for Sunday dinner.
+ Just give a damn.
Because someday it'll be our memorials...and I sure don't want there to be crickets when it's time for people to share about cantankerous old Art.
We're here to listen and help...set up a free consult and if what you need isn't in our wheelhouse, we'll point you in the right direction.
Make it a great day!
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