I Didn’t Know That

As I stood near the casket at my dad’s viewing, people known and unknown pieced together fragments of his life. A pattern began to emerge of things he did to help others which I never knew.

One by one I heard things like: He bought my pig at the county 4H fair or One time I needed groceries and your dad paid for them, or He gave me a loan when I had nowhere to turn, He was such a kind man, He always made my day seem better.

While I didn’t know about the pig or the loan or the groceries, I did know he was a kind man.

Stories. Memories. Influence.

Sometimes when people pass, I realize that I didn't know them as well as I thought.

Why didn’t I know about my friend’s life growing up on the west coast?

Why didn’t I know what caused her divorce? Or what it was like to work for an airline?

Why didn’t I know more about another friend’s tour of Viet Nam?

Why didn’t I ask more about his faith journey? When did he come to know Jesus?

Why didn’t I stop to ask more questions? Why was I so distracted?

Stories emerge at visitations or funerals but are snuffed out for lack of details—a dead end. I’ve thought more about this, of late, as I was given the task of pulling some details together for a friend’s memorial service. As I thumbed through her pictures, questions arose, but there was no one to ask.

I wish I could ask her to tell me more, but that window has closed.

What if this week, we stopped to really listen to a few people who cross our paths? What if we offered the gift of genuine interest; tell me more. What if we gave even just a few minutes of undivided attention?

What stories would surface? I believe we would find a deeper connection. I think we would discover stories that surprise and delight us.

We might learn we live among heroes.

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