Lessons From Laura

(2025-3)

I’ve been doing a lot of reminiscing the past few weeks.  August 20 was a sad, reflective day for me.  Not only was it the birthday of my first nephew (who passed away too soon), but it was the one-year anniversary of my sister Laura’s death.  Laura was a special person to so many people.  She was more than a sister to me.

Since Laura died, I’ve gone through the five stages of grief (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance).  I decided a post about what Laura taught me would honor her while helping me accept her passing. 

Laura was born in 1954.  She was the second of three children my parents raised.  She didn’t like being called the “middle child” and referred to herself as either the best child or the favorite child.  She was confidently consistent with these monikers (much to the chagrin of the other two of us).

Laura had a couple of quotes that have become family institutions.  The first was from her early childhood.  I believe she was in grade school when we gathered as a family in our small living room in Weatherford, OK.  She was showing off her gymnastics abilities and started by exclaiming “Clear the runway!”  She then did a cartwheel and gashed her knee on our coffee table.  It left a scar that never went away.  “Clear the runway!” became our family announcement whenever we wanted to warn of a risky thing, or just to make fun of Laura.

The first date I ever went on was actually Laura’s.  My dad made a joke of letting Laura go to the drive-in with a boy in Pampa, TX by telling her she could go if they took me with them.  Laura’s boyfriend agreed, so I was the “third wheel” on their date.

The first college dorm room I visited was Laura’s at West Texas State (now called West Texas A&M).  Laura had enrolled in summer school, and we (Mom, Dad, and me) went to visit her.  I was surprised at how small the dorm room was!  This aligned my expectations many years later when I went to LSU for my freshman year.

Laura and I shared a fear of heights.  In the late 90s we lived in the San Francisco Bay Area.  Laura and her husband Myron came to visit us.  We took them to the Golden Gate Bridge.  Laura and I stayed away from the edge as the rest of the family took in the view from the railing.  We went late in the day, and the sunset was magnificent.  As we walked back, the automatic gate started to close to lock access after dark.  Laura freaked out.  She didn’t realize that the gate was only locked to prevent entrance and was still unlocked for exit!  We’ve laughed about that many times.

The second iconic quote from Laura occurred when our extended family was going through our parents’ house after my father died.  We had all three siblings along with our respective families.  Most of my parents’ grandchildren and a few great-grandchildren were present.  Some of the grandchildren were admiring a piece of decorative china my parents brought back from their life in Greece.  They were all trying to decide what it was.  Laura stood with them and listened to them for a while before interjecting “It’s a bud vase, you idiots!”  This quote has caused us all to smile when we remember Laura.

Laura was a very generous person.  She became known for her annual crawfish boils and for taking in a few people who needed a place to stay until they got in a better life situation.  So many people showed up at her memorial service who viewed her as their second mother.

Laura taught me a lot.  Three lessons I‘ve incorporated into my life and career include:

• The unsung hero is truly a hero.  Laura never sought the glory or limelight.  She exuded humility and strength in her life.  Laura’s strong silent approach calmed everyone.  She was great at building others up without seeking anything in return.  When my wife and I bought our first house, we were stressed about the finances.  I remember talking to Laura over the phone about the process.  A few days later, a check from Laura came in the mail.  She helped us financially without any expectations of when we would pay her back.  She said we could pay it back when we had it and told us not to add interest.
• Everyone needs someone who can keep a secret.  Laura was excellent in this area, perhaps the best person I’ve known.  She was not a gossip.  She was a human lockbox.  I’m sure she was burdened with many issues and stories.  She never leaked information and never showed the burden.  Later in my career, I was in numerous positions where I had access to a lot of confidential data and information.  I used Laura as a role model in protecting that sensitive material.
• Leave a legacy of strength, humility, love, and generosity.  I’ve heard it said that people don’t care how much you know, but they know how much you care.  Laura cared about everyone in her circle of family and friends.  Her death has left a deep hole in many peoples’ lives.  It’s truly humbling when I think of the impact she had on so many people.
• Keep in touch with your family, friends, and colleagues.  My sister Laura was a true friend.  I miss talking to her or texting her to check in.  If there’s someone you’ve been thinking about, reach out to them.  They may need a touchpoint from someone who truly cares.

How have you handled grief?  Do you have an unsung hero who inspires you?  Have you applied family lessons to your professional life?  I welcome your thoughts.

I help my coaching clients deal with various problems by coaching them through tough issues affecting their life and work.  If you’re unsure whether my coaching can add value, reach out and schedule a free 30-minute conference call by emailing me at mike@mrhensonllc.com.