I just returned from a whirlwind weekend East to attend a memorial service for Ferdie Wandelt, a great man who died too young, but lived the kind of life we all aspire to achieve. The eternal optimist, surrounded by family and friends, feeling blessed to do work he was called upon to do.
I knew him as my friend Allison's dad, as the Head of Admissions at the boarding school where I lived as a faculty child, as the girls' varsity lacrosse coach, and as the jovial man who always met us at his door on Christmas day, with his glass of Doers half-full, and a wide warm embrace.
I didn't play lacrosse for Mr. Wandelt, as I had watched the movie Chariots of Fire as a kid and dreamed of being a track star. I remember him calling me before spring season my sophomore year, when it was clear I was more of a hustle player than a natural runner, and my aggressive speed on the soccer field didnt translate to sprint victories in track, and trying to convince me, again, to play lacrosse. "I'll work with you every day over spring break," he said. And he meant it. One of my regrets from high school, is not saying yes.
As I stood in the September sun, green leaves turning gold, in the courtyard where I graduated from high school, listening to speeches about Ferdie's impact on others, I could still hear Mr. Wandelt's voice: "Christy, how ya doing?"
I'm alright Mr. Wandelt, but listening to your life captured in story, there are some things I'd like to do better:
Too often, I get caught up in the negative, in the worry and what ifs, I dwell on the smallness of people instead of the potential, I ask why me instead of what now, and starting today, I'd like to at least notice when the hands of fear and criticism hold me down. I'd like to just say: "This is what we got" and move on to either solving the problem or letting it go.
I loved hearing the story of the e-fax. The time a colleague emailed you from his room, a few doors down, in a Hong King hotel, not knowing you never replied to your own email, instead your wife and partner, Joanna, faxed every email to you, so you could handwrite a response. So this message traveled from Hong Kong to Watertown CT, where Mrs. Wandelt printed it out and faxed it to the hotel, bellhops brought the message to you and were soundly tipped to return your written notes to be faxed back to Watertown so Joanna could compose your response. All the while the man who wrote you sat at his computer about eight feet away. I take two lessons from this story. First, we all can find ways to adapt our idiosyncrasies into this ever-changing world, but it sure helps if we have someone to support us in our efforts. And second, communication, in all forms, matters, but it sure is nice to receive a postcard or letter from time to time, pen and paper, something we can hold. I want to remember to write thank you notes and hand-written messages in this time of constant shallow communication, and even more so, when I can, to speak to people face to face.
And finally, family and friends is all that really matters. I loved seeing people at the service, where years piled between conversations, but it felt as if mere minutes passed since our last words. It is friendship and not money or things that move us. If we put our energy into building a community of support we'll never be let down. This seems obvious, but I still forget. When my children come home from school today, I plan to put aside all other obligations and just listen to their bright little souls.
Thank you, Mr. Wandelt, for reminding me to say, "I love you" to someone every day. To live up to the values I hold dear in my actions and not just in words. To see success as a happy marriage, friends, and a communty more than salary, luxury items or accolades.
Its an honor to have known you, Ferdie, and to hear you tell me, time and again, as you did to so many, "You're the best."
Right back at you, Sir.
He was awesome. Glad you were there to remember and pass it forward.
Posted by: fleming | 09/30/2013 at 06:02 PM
Beautiful Christy. Ferdie would be proud!!
Posted by: Mom and Dad | 10/01/2013 at 01:39 PM
Dear Christy, Thank you for sharing this reminder. I work at this! But the other day, in the grocery, my favorite cashier said yo me: "You are always whistling and smiling. You cheer me up," and I thought: YES! This is what we can do for each other--enjoy what we have because so many of us do have so much, and share the happiness with a smile. So thanks for smiling at me across the ethernet and a big smile back to you and all those you love.
Posted by: danielle | 10/02/2013 at 08:47 AM
PS: Beautiful pic. I worked at various boarding schools for a few year sand this just captures the essence of them...
Posted by: danielle | 10/02/2013 at 08:48 AM
A life well lived. Beautiful tribute. Sorry that it is often such a loss that prompts us to examine our own lives.
Posted by: Kate | 10/02/2013 at 12:53 PM
Good words, Christy - sad that funerals are often what bring these reminders - but then, maybe out memorials are our last gift to each other - that piecing together of the lives we've lived. A couple of nights ago, my mom told the story of one of my childhood friends asking if she could go to the "reunion" - she meant funeral - and my Mom said she has always remembered it because that's what funerals are, really. I like that. I'm glad you made time to go to the reunion. Sorry that there was occasion for you to go.
Posted by: Ginna | 10/02/2013 at 01:01 PM
So true Ginna and that's what it felt like an old school Watertown / Taft reunion both from my childhood as a faculty child and from my years there as a student. And instead of a somber event the service was a wealth of stories with lots of laughter and aha moments. So glad I went.
And Danielle, I love the image of you whistling and smiling in the store. Its amazing what a smile can do. I try to smile and greet the kids at school every morning in the hallway , even if its not exactly how I feel inside. And more often than not, I feel better.
Posted by: Christy | 10/02/2013 at 08:44 PM
Great tribute Christy. He was a great man. Thxs for sharing.
Posted by: Jenn | 10/09/2013 at 02:37 AM
this brought tears to my eyes. thank you. its true, what are we living for? the moment and each day and the joy it all brings us, right? I have an obsession with reading obituaries and the other day I decided to write my own, not to be grim but just to see what I would want it to say and what i need to do with my life from this point to 'enjoy' it to the fullest. I needed to think about what I want to do and how i want to be remembered. it was a good check in.
Posted by: chelan | 10/09/2013 at 10:22 PM
I just like you, Christie ...
Posted by: Brian Shactman | 10/16/2013 at 04:02 PM