Be More Than You Seem

I traveled to the Eastern Shore of Maryland recently to attend the "Life Celebration" of a very dear friend.  He passed in February and the Eastern Shore, specifically a place called Oxford, fed his soul. 

Paul was a community college professor when I met him in 1989.  Being a college textbook sales representative at the time, it was my job to call on such professors and try to sell the the newest, best and brightest textbooks of the publishing season.  We continued a 21 year friendship, mostly through emails and written letters, but occasionally, we were able to get in a visit or two despite the great distance that eventually separated us. 

He was an unassuming guy.  His dress and his looks were "casual".  He was not a fashion fiend and I doubt that world ever even turned his head.  His monetary means were on the slim side of "slim".  He treasured his books, his gift for the written word and his son.  Nothing in his demeanor ever gave you even a hint that he wanted anything more for you than life's very best and he cared about every single word you, as his friend, uttered.  He was observant about the needs of those around him and did his best, where he could, to fulfill the small needs and wants of those he cared for in extraordinarily thoughtful ways.   I appreciated him for all that I believed he was and I viewed him only as I could, from my limited, yet honorable, perspective of him. 

From the memories that were shared two weeks ago in a small church, in the middle of a small town, surrounded by the Chesapeake Bay and it's resident seagulls, I learned that Paul was many things to many people.  But the common message emanating from that day was that Paul was a trumpet to the unseen capabilities of his friends and family.  Where they were blind to their own potential, he gave them sight and where they hesitated to take the first step of many on a new, promising paths, he gave them a push and held their hand all at the same time.  He was this for me as well.  But what really was amazing was that I could now see him not only from my own limited perspective, but through everyone else's eyes as well.  How truly striking it was to see the impact his life and his actions had on so MANY others. 

In the 21 years that we shared our wonderful friendship, I knew that he was a scholar and I knew that he hungered for knowledge and new experiences the way a river seeks the sea. I knew he was remarkable and inspirational.  Anyone who earns their PhD from Yale at the tender age of 73 is remarkable.  Anyone who goes on an archaeological dig in Utah for evidence of the Anasazi Indians in his late 60's is inspirational.  We spoke about life and the world, his aspirations and my plans on many occasions.  I thought I knew him well.

Here's some of the things that I DIDN"T know about Paul:  I didn't know he was from Cleveland originally.  I didn't know that he had THREE children and that one of his daughters had died in infancy.  I didn't know that he was awesome at photography and had several photos published in numerous magazines and I certainly didn't know that he did training seminars for the US Navy's submarine crews.  I also didn't know these other people at the life celebration and the extent to which Paul had also touched their lives.  There was so much more to this man than I knew, even over the course of a 21 year friendship.  These things, and many others, I learned only two weeks ago in Oxford.   

His son, "P3" as they call him, did a fabulous job of planning and executing an unforgettable life celebration for his father.  A Rennaisance man like his father, P3 uttered the words  "Mehr Sein Als Scheinen." during the church ceremony.  The translation, we were told, is " Be more than you seem."  It really struck a chord with me.  I thought the saying beautiful and profound and really was touched by the fact that it was so fitting for Paul and the way he lived his life. 

And I find those words now to be something I aspire to.  We can all "seem" to be a certain way, but isn't it our life's work to create more?  To build from what we "seem to be" something that runs a little deeper, a little more genuine.  And in keeping with that idea, perhaps we too should strive to see others with clearer, more appreciative eyes.  Perhaps we should seek to see them as more than THEY seem.   Just a thought.



Paul and Sue
St. Michael's, Eastern Shore, Maryland 1999