What will people remember about you?

Today I went to my good friend’s funeral. His name was Ken and he was 76 years young and, if memory serves me right, my first baseball coach when I was about 8 – just a short 47 years ago.

About nine months ago Mary Kay and I attended his daughter’s wedding and learned that he had pancreatic cancer. He had surgery for the disease June 3, 2008. Exactly one year later – to the day – he was buried.

He had six children that ranged in age from 56 – 18. Yes, 38 years apart. I went to school with his older children. Later in life he met Karen. I spent time with him as he dated and married this great woman who would give him two more girls and 20+ happy years of marriage.

Karen’s call last week wasn’t a surprise. Ken lived longer than many do with this dreaded disease. As I hung up the phone I thought back on that past five decades. He was more than a friend. He was a mentor.

I stood in line at the visitation for an hour before I reached the casket. I was amazed at the number of people who paid tribute – but not surprised.

Ken owned his own business and was financially very successful. We knew it but Ken never showed it. He was just Ken – this hard working, community-minded individual who, along with my dad, were the founding fathers of Rockford Lutheran High School in the 1960’s. Ken’s oldest son graduated from the school in 1971. Ken’s youngest daughter graduated from that same Rockford Lutheran last Friday.

Ken was an outstanding athlete until he was in his 60’s – playing with guys half his age . . .including his sons. We had a great group of guys who played volleyball together almost 30 years ago. Several of us gathered at the bar after the service to reminisce. In recent years Ken coached his youngest daughter’s volleyball team and traveled with her while she played club ball.

Our Ken stories were fun, full of laughs and tears, and revealed the passion that Ken had for life. The only thing missing was Ken, some liar’s poker dollar bills, and a couple pitchers of beer.

Between the laughter and the tears we talked about the passion this man had for everything he was involved with. Pastor Meggers, Ken’s close friend and Pastor, gave a heart-warming eulogy that talked about Ken’s passions in life, which included being a die-hard Cub’s fan! The Pastor’s words were healing. The memories were vivid. The tears were many.

At the funeral I sat next to one of my friends, Mark, who I hadn’t seen for 20 years. It seemed like time stood still as we told stories about our teachers back in the 1960’s at St. Paul Lutheran grade school. Even though Mark was two years older we shared similar memories. Mark’s brother was one of my best friends as a kid and our families were close.

I remember when Mark’s dad died. Mark was in 5th grade. That must have been about 1962. Mark talked about how Ken really became a surrogate father for him when that happened. Ken must have been about 29 or 30 then. Wow. Mark remembered how Ken hit ground balls and “scorching line drives” to him as Ken taught Mark how to play baseball when Mark was just a young kid.

When Mark was in his early 20’s he was working for Ken and found out that he had cancer. Mark explained how Ken gave him all the time he needed away from work for recovery. In fact, a “contribution from the church” came to help Mark and his family each month. Mark knew it was from Ken – but never let on.

The culmination of my day was a discussion I had with Ken’s 45-year old son, Paul, who took me back 10 years when Paul’s wife had a deadly-form of encephalitis. Paul called Ken explaining that his wife needed to get to Johns Hopkins the next day. The cost - $15,000 for the private jet and ambulance.

Ken, already retired, immediately told Paul to make the arrangements. For the next four months Paul stayed near the hospital as his wife was near death. Ken also spent a great deal of those four months with his son as Paul supported his wife. Here was a dad taking “emotional care” of his 35-year old son as Paul tried to keep his life together to support his wife.

She lived. Paul says his dad saved her life. Getting her to John Hopkins that day and getting her the right medical care made the difference.

This got me thinking. What is it that we do today that will be remembered tomorrow?

It has nothing to do with age. Ken was in his 20’s when Mark’s dad died and Ken stepped to the plate with Mark and his siblings . . .in his 40’s as he played volleyball with me . . . in his mid-60’s when he sat at John Hopkins with Paul and in his 70’s when he coached his teen-aged daughter’s volleyball team.

I only hope that everyone who reads this takes a life lesson and remembers what life is really about. Not work. Not money. It is about the memories we leave behind. What a legacy Ken left. What a lesson we all can learn.

I know how I want my kids and my colleagues to remember me – just like we remembered Ken today. Ken Nelson – I salute you . . . who you were and more importantly, who you are teaching the rest of us how to be.