Leader of Men

I spent the day with my grandparents today. It was a good day. We shared experiences, time, and conversation. We conversed about recent events and noteworthy issues of family interest. It was, in a few words, innocuous, extremely polite.

At his peak, my grandfather managed well over a hundred people. He helped lead the development of a multi-billion dollar radar defense project that is still the best system in the world today. He tells tales of his early career, spending weeks on-board naval ships and working to prove the validity of their design. He stood on deck countless times, watching his work play out before him in either a triumphant ball of flame (target destroyed) or an anticlimactic, damning splash of foam (target lost).

Tonight I looked at him and realized that the man who did that work may be gone. Of course, all of us wane and change in time. I am not who I was 5 years ago, or 1 year ago. But towards the end, as in the beginning, perhaps the acceleration is heightened. The change is more apparent.

I sought to discuss cogent issues tonight, if only one or two. Maybe it was because my grandmother was there. Maybe it's because he doesn't see me as an adult, or my opinions as valid. Maybe there are reasons I don't know about. But he sat still, quiet, unreactive through most of dinner. His only comments were dismissive, absolutist, unwavering. There was no discussion. There was no admission that maybe there were other ways things could be seen.

Most impactfully, his comments stood in stark opposition to my own. His faith sat far from mine, as did his beliefs. He saw no light where I do, and I did not understand where he thought light was coming from.

In a cliche wish, would that I could sit and talk with my grandfather at various points in his life. I want to hand a beer to a 25-year-old David, with two kids at home and an unproven design sitting in the hull of a battlecruiser in the Pacific. I want to stand at the oak desk of a 35-year-old Mr. Herman, his three kids underway and an empire of influence expanding outward from his successful design. I want to beg the time of 50-year-old Senior Manager Herman, learn from him how to lead 100 people in a purposeful manner to a final, important goal.

Maybe we'd find no common ground. Maybe we would. But right now, all I know is that when I watched my grandfather walk away tonight, I felt an intense, undeniable emptiness inside me. There's a disconnect between myself and this man, a man whom I am connected to in so many incontrovertible ways.

I want to mend that disconnection. I want to pick his brain, tell him my own tales, seek his wisdom and knowledge. I am finally, after a quarter of a century, capable of relating to him in some small, real way. Of understanding his work, his sacrifice, his choices, his life.

I am here, now, where he was, then ... look! Can't you see? I'm here now, I'm ready! I can understand! I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry I was so focused on such petty things this whole time. Girls, music, school, drinking. I'm finally beginning to gain a broader perspective. I'm finally putting that all behind me. I can see now that I must find purposeful work. I must find love. I must raise a family, and do so in a fashion that my children can find these things as well.

Please ... don't be gone. Don't let your mind be clouded. Don't stand behind intransigence. Don't tout outdated beliefs and refuse to hear others. Please just listen to me.

I need you now more than I ever have. I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry ... I did the best I could and I need you now.

Please just listen to me.