They say —think about your eulogy at your funeral then live up to the words you’d like to be solemnly spoken there.
What would I like be said? I think I’d like them to say, at different levels, he was a good fellow at work, he was a good friend, he was a good husband, and he was a good father. Or at least he tried to.
Being a nice guy at work it’s all about content, and I find it easy to figure it out. Right off the bat, I could say have a smile ready for your co-workers, slightly cover for their mistakes, slightly hear what they incessantly say, let them alone if they wish to be so, accept the fact that their mid-morning break curves space-time so that what you’ve experienced as an hour long it’s been a mere twenty minutes to them, don’t take advantage, ask politely, be thankful, know their names, make their work easier, do your workload and just a bit more, and of course don’t ever go to the boss with stories.
But what about the other ones? Those are of an altogether different kind, a kind much harder to characterize, one that defeats itemization —contrary to the be like Johny too good approach of the myriad ones who want to conquer your mind, there’s no recipy for them —no positive content about being a friend, a husband, a father. What then?
He was a good friend because he never betrayed the trust I put on him. He was a good husband because all the while I wanted him to be with me he was. He was a good father because he never put his own interest before mine.
Then I could rest in peace.