1: Bo had Parkinson’s disease. He was sixty-one years old.
“He lived alone for two decades until he needed extra care, and moved back to the town where his kids and ex-wife still lived,” Diane Button writes in her wonderful book What Matters Most: Lessons the Dying Teach Us About Living.
Bo went to live with Joon, his youngest daughter, whose husband was in the army and was deployed at the time.
“This was a good thing for Bo,” Diane writes, “because he had certain expectations for his daughter and never welcomed Joan’s husband into his life, or his home.”
At first, the transition to relying on others was difficult for Bo, who felt frustrated and uncertain about giving up his independence.
“I’ve spent my entire life not needing anyone. I really don’t want to start now,” he said on his first day at Joon’s house.
But in time, he grew to appreciate the care. “The family treated him with tender love and respect,” Diane writes. “His children, grandchildren, and even his ex-wife rotated shifts to care for him in what turned out to be the final weeks of his life.”
One day, Joon talked to Bo about her husband, Jack. She was so proud of his service to our country and grateful he was deployed to Italy, a comparatively secure corner of an often unsettled world.
“Dad, I know you’ve never liked Jack, but he wanted me to tell you he’s been thinking about you,” Joon said. “He told me to say thank you, from him to you, for bringing such a beautiful woman into the world for him to love.”
Bo looked away for a moment. When he turned back toward Joon, he had tears in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Joon,” he said. “I wanted you to marry someone else, and that was wrong. I haven’t been kind to Jack, and I’m so, so sorry. He’s been good to you, given me two wonderful grandchildren, and given you a beautiful life. I look around this house, and I see how loved you are. He must be a special man.”
“Thank you, Dad. That means so much to me,” said Joon. “I wish you would’ve gotten to know him. He’s a really special man, and an amazing father.”
2: The conversation seemed to bring about a feeling of healing in Joon’s home. “Slow, sweet, and meaningful healing,” Diane writes. “Joon needed to hear Bo acknowledge that he had been unkind and she appreciated her dad for his willingness to apologize.”
Bo realized his stubborn views and cutting words had pushed away Joon, Jack, and his grandchildren. It was a truth he needed to confess.
“He could not change his past,” Diane notes, “but he was given a gift, a second chance to change the rest of his story.”
Early one Saturday morning, Diane received a call from Joon. “My dad was restless all night long. He keeps saying he’s ready to get on a plane, but he can’t get there yet. I don’t know what he’s talking about. Can you come over for a while?”
Diane explained it wasn’t unusual for people to talk about travel before dying.
3: Getting better at getting better is what RiseWithDrew is all about.
Monday through Thursday, we explore ideas from authors, thought leaders, and exemplary organizations. At the end of each week, we are exploring some of the life lessons from Diane’s book What Matters Most.
When she arrived at Joon’s home that morning, Bo greeted Diane by name and pointed to the chair beside his bed. He appeared clear-headed and fully present. Joon sat on the other side of the bed.
“How are you feeling right now?” Diane asked Bo.
“I feel like I’m going to die soon, and I’m not ready,” he replied.
“Do you know what might be holding you back?” I asked.
“No, not really,” Bo said, shaking his head.
Joon spoke up, “Dad said he was about to go to the airport to catch a plane, but that he wasn’t ready just yet.”
Diane encouraged Bo to talk about the trip, sensing it was related to his hesitation about dying. She asked, “Bo, where were you going on that plane?”
“I was going to fly around the world to see old friends to say goodbye. And I was going to Italy.”
“Italy?” she repeated gently. “Were you going to see Jack?”
A tear dropped from Bo’s eye. “Yes, I think I was.”
Diane looked at Joon. Tears were streaming down her face.
“Thankfully, it was early evening in Italy, and Joon was able to reach Jack,” Diane writes. “She explained the situation to him, and soon Jack was on the phone, video chatting with Bo.
“Bo spoke from his heart. His voice was weak, but his words were strong.
“I’m so sorry, Jack,” he said. “I’ve treated you poorly because of my own selfish wishes, and I was wrong. You’ve been so good to Joon and all my family. I know you are a good man. I’m so sorry, Jack. Will you forgive me?”
“Yes, sir. I forgive you. And I promise to take care of Joon and your family for the rest of my life. Thank you for calling, sir. This means a lot to me.”
“Thank you,” Bo said softly.
Bo finally spoke the words he’d held inside, freeing himself from the emotional burden tethering him here, Diane observes.
“A couple hours later, Bo fell asleep. Joon heard him talking about getting on the plane again, but this time he made it,” she writes. “Joon held his hand as he took his final breath. Now he was free.”
Diane writes: “We all have the choice to be kind. A compassionate heart leads to a life well lived.”
More next week.
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Reflection: Who in my life do I still need to say “I’m sorry,” “I forgive you,” or “I love you” to—before it’s too late?
Action: Reach out to one person this week—with a call, message, or letter—to offer a sincere apology, extend forgiveness, or say “I love you.”
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