When I launched my business, I knew that I would likely fumble the ball, trip over myself, and possibly get a few bruises along the way. Despite the scrapes, I remain undeterred. When I open my jewelry box, I see the beautiful and cherished red dragon pin that was gifted to me on that summer day. It is a reminder of a lesson gained from a kind gentleman and a woman I never really knew…
This past summer, my father asked me to attend the funeral of my aunt Eddie; he’s unable to travel these days. I never really knew my aunt Eddie; she loved the color red and she sang in two church choirs, traveled all over the world, and was a dedicated pin collector. She was adored and loved by so many people, but my heart still today remains a bit heavy for the lost opportunity of knowing this woman.
Prior to her passing, Eddie asked her daughters to share her pin collection with those who attended her memorial. What a beautiful gesture! As people walked away from communion, they all wore huge, bright, colorful pins—even the men. Eddie had dressed everyone for the day.
Eddie’s husband succumbed to cancer nearly eight years ago, so her partner and traveling companion of the past five years gave her eulogy. He shared a story of how he rekindled a relationship that began decades before.
He was in his late seventies and discovered that Eddie has been recently widowed. He obtained her email address from a mutual friend and began to write a short note; he gave it careful consideration since nearly sixty years that had transpired since they’d last met. That note, he said, sat in his draft folder for more than three days as his self-doubt grew. He was worried about Eddie’s response. What happened if she didn’t remember him? Worse yet, what happens if she did remember him and found his invitation for dinner totally inappropriate? Finally, he reclaimed his chutzpah and told himself, “Just push send.” Just. Push. Send.
It turns out that Eddie did indeed remember her friend from long ago and she happily accepted his invitation. That dinner turned into many more, which progressed into a wonderful, later-in-life companionship.
Though their time together was not without challenge—they were almost immediately confronted with Eddie’s breast cancer diagnosis—they enjoyed their freedom, too. Without the responsibilities and time constraints that come with young children in need of raising, they compiled a list of countries to visit, wines to taste, and music to relish. Each day their Just Push Send mantra guided their choices.
I’ve thought so much about Aunt Eddie’s love, his touching eulogy, and how much he must miss my aunt. I’ve also wondered how I can apply the principle of pushing send in my personal and professional worlds, unfettered by worry of what others may think of my decisions.
When I launched my business, I knew that I would likely fumble the ball, trip over myself, and possibly get a few bruises along the way. Despite the scrapes, I remain undeterred. When I open my jewelry box, I see the beautiful and cherished red dragon pin that was gifted to me on that summer day. It is a reminder of a lesson gained from a kind gentleman and a woman I never really knew: What treasures we may receive when we take chances, silence our fears, and just push send.