Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Know Joe


A couple of months ago, I read something that touched my heart ... so much so that I saved it to read again ... so much so that I saved it because I wanted to be sure I read it again and again ... so much so that I emailed the person who wrote it and asked his permission to reprint it in my post tonight. 

"He was a young man, in his early 20s, I think. He was walking along the beach with a metal detector. 'What are you hoping to find?' I asked the tanned, slender figure with the sun-bleached blonde hair. 'Treasure,' he replied, 'I'm hoping to find buried treasure.' My eyes followed him as he slowly moved along the sand in search of the treasure he was certain lay beneath his feet. Buried treasure, I mused, closing my eyes as emotion tore through my heart like a fire-breathing dragon that threatened to destroy me. Only three weeks prior, I had carried the casket of my friend Michael and placed it atop his final resting place. Three days before, Michael committed suicide. The farewell note he placed on his bedside table was crumpled, worn and folded, causing me to wonder how long it had been in his possession. I went back to Michael's grave a couple of days ago, and I wept as I read the words that were inscribed on the stone that stood guarding over my friend.

 
'A true treasure lies buried here. Treasured son. Treasured friend. Rest in peace, beloved Michael.' 

Buried treasure, I mused once again, tears blurring my vision as I looked into the blue sky above me. 'Michael,' I whispered softly. 'I'm so sorry I never told you what a treasure you were.'" --- Silas W. 

Those words speak to me ... they spoke to me the first time I read them, and they speak to me still. Too many people for whom I care deeply have lost loved ones in recent days ... seeing their grief and feeling their pain has caused me once again to contemplate how fleeting and fragile life can truly be. And in that contemplation, I've decided to begin a new tradition here on The Tree House ... treasure sharing. 

I first met Joe at a quarterly meeting in our office, and I must confess that my first thought was, "Gosh, he's really tall." Granted, probably 90 percent of the people on the planet are taller than me, but Joe is a really tall guy. I must also confess that my next thought was, "His hair is even whiter than mine." Nothing superficial or shallow at all about me, eh? (And by the way, I can promise you that I've completely caught up with Joe in the white hair department.) Before you think me oblivious to anything other than Joe's height or hair color the first time I met him, let me assure you that it was his knowledge and quick wit that made the most lasting impression upon me that day. I had heard stories about how brilliant he was, but it wasn't until I heard him speak at the meeting that I was able to fully comprehend the scope of his wisdom. My interaction with Joe was limited since he was based in the Wichita office, but he was always kind and polite to me whenever I saw him. He retired a few years ago, and he now spends his time traveling the world with his lovely wife and being a grandpa. Well, traveling, being a grandpa and brewing what I've been told is just about the best darned beer on earth.


Joe is one of those "I kind of sort of knew him but not really" people in my life. You know what I mean ... I knew he was a great guy and that he was known in the advertising world as having one of the most creative minds of all time. I didn't know anything about his family or his life away from SHS, other than he liked music and had like a million CDs. I knew stuff about Joe, but I didn't know Joe ... until a little over a year ago. It was the day we released our video Ears Wide Open? ... I still have the message Joe sent me that day. To say that his words touched my soul would be a gigantic understatement ... I cried like a baby when I read them. He apologized for not having seen my sadness and asked me to promise to call him should I ever feel myself returning to the darkness that came so close to devouring me. And then he sent me a friend request on Facebook ... that's when I knew it was official ... that's when I knew we really were friends.


Over the last year, I've learned a lot about Joe that I never knew before. I've learned that he has a fantastic sense of humor and can write limericks that make me laugh like crazy. I've learned that he adores his wife and that his family means everything to him. I've learned that his brilliance goes far beyond the ad biz and that his heart is filled to overflowing with kindness and compassion for others. See, here's the thing ... Joe didn't have to reach out to me after he saw our video, but he did. He doesn't have to continue to encourage and support me, but he does. He doesn't have to read my often rambling writings filled with ellipses galore, but he does. He doesn't even have to like my Facebook statuses, but he does.


I'm so very thankful for your friendship, Joe ... knowing you makes me a better person. You're a true treasure, my friend ... a true treasure indeed.


1 comment:

Mighty Minimalist Mama said...

I don't know Joe but I would like to take the opportunity to say Thank You. Thank you to all the people that reach out to those in the darkness and are brave enough to offer to be there. The people that continue to encourage because they know the darkness is always in the area and encouragement gives a light to stave it off.

Terrie, you are a game changer. You don't just talk the talk, you walk the walk - with courage, conviction, and stand tall (taller than Joe). Thank you for being a blessing and for sharing that blessing with others.