Here’s one leadership idea and one resource I’ve found beneficial this week:
1 idea: "We need a girl"
On Sunday, October 11, 1953, George H.W. Bush experienced a great tragedy. His daughter Robin--who was just shy of four years old--passed away. She’d succumbed to leukemia.
At the time, Bush was a little-known oilman and father of three living in Midland, Texas. (George W. and baby Jeb were his other children.) When his daughter was unexpectedly taken, he and his wife Barbara were wrecked.
Like most men of his generation, Bush was not comfortable with public displays of emotion. But in his letters, Bush often pulled back the curtain to show his deep feelings of grief.
In one such letter to his mother written years (and two additional boys) later, Bush offers a poetic, insightful tribute to his little girl. These words wreck me every time I read them because they remind me why my own daughter is so special to me. In honor of Women’s History Month, I’d like to share them with you, too:
There is about our house a need. The running, pulsating restlessness of the four boys as they struggle to learn and grow; the world embraces them.... All this wonder needs a counterpart. We need some starched crisp frocks to go with all our torn-kneed blue jeans and helmets. We need some soft blond hair to off-set those crew cuts. We need a doll house to stand firm against our forts and rackets and thousand baseball cards. We need a cut-out star to play alone while the others battle to see who's 'family champ.' We even need someone... who could sing the descant to "Alouette," while outside they scramble to catch the elusive ball aimed ever roofward, but usually thudding against the screens.
We need a legitimate Christmas angel—one who doesn't have cuffs beneath the dress.
We need someone who's afraid of frogs.
We need someone to cry when I get mad—not argue.
We need a little one who can kiss without leaving egg or jam or gum.
We need a girl.
We had one once—she'd fight and cry and play and make her way just like the rest. But there was about her a certain softness.
She was patient—her hugs were just a little less wiggly.
Like them, she'd climb in to sleep with me, but somehow she'd fit.
She didn't boot and flip and wake me up with pug nose and mischievous eyes a challenging quarter-inch from my sleeping face.
No—she'd stand beside our bed till I felt her there. Silently and comfortable, she'd put those precious, fragrant locks against my chest and fall asleep.
Her peace made me feel strong, and so very important.
"My Daddy" had a caress, a certain ownership which touched a slightly different spot than the "Hi Dad" I love so much.
But she is still with us. We need her and yet we have her. We can't touch her, and yet we can feel her.
We hope she'll stay in our house for a long, long time.
***
Who are the women in your life that bring a light and beauty to your world?
What is it about them that is so special?
How could you savor that beauty in the next few days?
1 resource: Destiny & Power
I knew little about H.W. before reading Jon Meachum's excellent book Destiny and Power. Bush had a wild journey: from privileged boarding schools in New England, to service in World War 2, to painting oil derricks in the hot West Texas sun, to a long career in Republican politics.
This biography follows Bush, but it also captures the spirit of a forgotten generation who lived to serve their country with great ambitions but quiet demeanors. And the inner life that it reveals through Bush's extensive letters and diaries is so real, so human. A worthwhile read.
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