The Patron Saint of Listening
Photo by Adam Bratten @adambrattenphoto
Papa died this weekend. He was the Patron of our family; a caring and steadfast man. Harry Lincoln Marshall loved everyone he met, and everyone that met him loved him back. He was an amazing husband, father and grandfather, but what I loved most about him was his ability to truly listen. As a storyteller and journalist, it was his job to listen intently to every detail, and man did he do it well. When Papa would tell stories he remembered the tiniest details. He could remember the specifics of a conversation in the 60’s or tell you all of the people in a meeting 50 years ago and where they were from or what they did for a living. He gave everyone his full attention, no matter who they were or what they believed in.
As I reflect on Papa and his extraordinary gift for listening, I’ve realized there is a corollary between judgment and listening. The people I know who are the best listeners tend to be the least judgmental of others. I think that’s because through listening to others’ stories we learn an invaluable amount about ourselves. The more I listen to others’ stories, the more I understand about myself, which leaves less room for my opinions of other people.
Papa’s death has caused me to think a lot about my girls. Three of his daughters were next to him when he took his last breaths and I couldn’t help but think “man, I really hope I get to go like that.” My next thought was, “Well okay, I probably need to tell the girls about Papa’s death, but how do you talk to a 4 and 6 year old about a topic like that?” So, I Googled it. The answer, I found, is pretty straight forward: listen and comfort, put emotions into words, help them remember the person and ask them if they have any questions. But the key word in all of that advice was the word “listen”. I had this goal to go in there and tell them about death, but what I needed to do was listen. When someone is grieving, the best thing you can do for them is listen and empathize with them. The same is true of talking about death with kids. Listen to their thoughts and from there you can help them understand the big picture.
Thinking about having this conversation with them got me thinking about how I’m going to have hard conversations with them when they’re older. What do I do when difficult and real life circumstances arise and hard conversations are needed? The answer is simply to listen to them. You might be thinking “come on, Paul, that is so obvious”, but if you’re like me, when you really look at the relationships and events in your life, you’ll notice how much more listening you actually need to do. Ask yourself this: “How much more love could I have shown others had I paid attention to what they were feeling rather than thinking about how I should respond or what I could tell them?”
I didn’t understand how important it was to listen until my girls started to talk. I realized the opportunity I now had in getting to know them as individuals once their talking turned to expressing themselves. I looked into the future 10 years and realized how important that expression will be, and more importantly, that it’s met with understanding and love. It is paramount that my girls know that they are safe with me. That Dad might be tough but he listens to what I say and is concerned with how I am feeling. I want Sarah to come to me with the challenges she faces at all stages in her life. I want Clare to know she can call me in any situation no matter what she did.
After a morning of reflection, I made my way over to the girls’ moms house to see them for the afternoon. After a bit of rough housing I said “okay, girls, I need to tell you something. Yesterday your great Papa died”. Clare was quiet and didn’t say anything and Sarah, while jumping and hanging on my neck, screams, “soooo, we don’t have a great papa anymore?!” I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her matter of fact way of looking at things. “No, not anymore sweetie but now he is really happy and doesn’t hurt anymore. Do you have any questions?” Sarah looks me in the eyes, I start thinking “yes, she is about to tell me how she feels and I am going to practice listening to her”.... “Daddy…. Can you be the monster now?”.
I remember hearing a Mark Twain quote when I was a kid. “If we were meant to talk more than listen, we would have two mouths and one ear.” I believe it’s a different take on a line from a philosopher of antiquity like Plato or Socrates but It has stuck with me for decades. Now after years of not heeding the advice, I have the chance to share it with my girls to ensure that they do. Rather than tell them to listen though, I want to be an example of how to listen. Selfishly, I want to listen to them so they bring issues to me and stay close throughout their life. The real value in all of this, however, is that I get to provide them the tools to make them successful. Teaching my daughters not just to hear people but to listen to them will only help them on their own journey through life. My hope is that I can impart Papa’s wisdom, that the more they listen to others stories, the more interesting their own story will be.
