The Things That Remain
“Geoff, it’s Rosie O’Grady,” I began the call.
“Oh, Rosie, may the luck of the Irish be with you,” came the immediate reply in a well-practiced Irish brogue.
Laughter ensued.
Thirty-five years ago, Geoff and I sat in a steakhouse near Times Square. Like most business trips, it felt important at the time. There were donor meetings to prepare for, alumni to reconnect with, and goals to achieve.
Today, I can recall none of that. I do, however, remember the steak dinner at Rosie O’Grady’s. I recall laughing through the evening and joking that we needed Rosie’s luck to make our trip successful. And I certainly remember that somehow she delivered. The luck of the Irish was with us on that long-ago trip.
Those memories helped create a friendship strong enough that, despite not speaking for two decades, I could call Geoff and immediately pick up where we left off.
His phone number had changed, making him difficult to track down. He and his wife had both retired, moved to Colorado after selling their Chicago home, and purchased a second home in Italy, where they visit frequently. Geoff had also had a health scare, needing to be airlifted for emergency heart surgery.
At 81, life happened.
The strange thing, I realized in talking with him, is that we spend so much time focused on what doesn’t last. Projects end, titles change, and people and organizations move on. The goals, deadlines, and numbers that once felt so important eventually become footnotes, obscured in the small print in the back of our minds.
What remains are the people. Or, at least, some of them, the ones who make a difference along the way. For me, Geoff was one of them.
Over the course of our hour-long conversation that covered everything from finance to teaching opera in Tuscany, I asked Geoff what mattered most after a career as a professor who influenced more than a million students. He didn’t mention the nineteen finance textbooks he had authored. He didn’t suggest the awards both he and his wife received as beloved professors. Nor did he speak of the financial success their careers allowed.
He simply said, “It’s not about the money. It is about having a lot of friendships.” His closest friends from college over sixty years ago continue to gather annually, enjoying each other’s company with an upcoming trip planned in Arizona.
The further along in this journey I get, the more I think Geoff is right. His comment about “having a lot of friendships” reminded me that relationships don’t expire; they just go dormant and can easily be rekindled with a little effort.
Perhaps relationships are our legacy.