Musings on Life, Money and Stewardship

Don’t save your best for last. About a month ago, a close friend of mine called to confirm our lunch plans but asked if I could come his way instead of him traveling towards me. In retrospect, I’m glad I said I would go anywhere to meet him for lunch. I didn’t know then that it would be the last time I would ever see him.

Over that lunch, Bob confided that he had just been told he had liver cancer. During the next four weeks, he and I communicated by phone and email since he was too weak from his cancer treatment to leave his home or entertain guests. Four short weeks later, I was attending his funeral with 1,000 friends, family and members of the many communities he served.

I’ve written previously about the sabbatical I took in 2007. One major motivation for taking time off was the opportunity to work with Bob. I had met him in the mid-1970s when I was part of a young leadership charity board and he was the chairman of the entire organization. Bob was a major philanthropist, passionate and driven, but I never really got to know him well until recently.

About two years ago Bob’s name was tossed out as a candidate to chair a major fundraising organization that I was involved with. Bob, having a long and distinguished career chairing many local, national and international charities, accepted. When he asked if I would head his development committee, I jumped at the chance. I honestly expected that I could retire from running my own business and spend my remaining years volunteering to serve more worthy causes.

Bob and I unfortunately discovered one of not-for-profit’s downsides – politics and egos – something Bob and I both gave up long ago to run our own companies. After reaching a stalemate with some of the other board members, Bob and I both resigned. It was a painful lesson. I had been consumed by the politics when all I really wanted to do was achieve results. The nice thing about running your own business is that you can get rid of all the “noise’ and strategize on how to make a difference. So in late 2007, I turned my focus back to my business, a place I was comfortable being in charge. Fortunately, with my move to Chicago, Bob and I saw each other even more frequently although we were no longer working together but hoped we would again.

I would never have traded that year of working day in and day out with Bob. His interests were broad – family, charity, politics, business, travel, etc. Bob was admired by virtually all those who met him. When he decided to get involved in something, he gave it his all, becoming a major player even while running his own successful company. Although he was able to make a difference financially, it was his leadership and energy that made him stand out from those who gave only money. His passion for giving to others was a mere fraction of what he gave to his family, and the feeling was mutual – they, and the 1,000+ who mourn him, obviously adored him.

A few weeks ago, after learning about what Bob was facing, one of my advisor friends was kind enough to give me the book Chasing Daylight. Written by Gene O’Kelley, the 53-year old chairman of KPMG, it’s his story of how, despite the fact he was dying of brain cancer, he was determined to make his last 100 remaining days the best they could be. I wanted to read it first to make sure it would be appropriate to give to Bob. Unfortunately, he didn’t get 100 days.

The book’s message is inspirational – that we should always make the best of every moment we have left. As I meet more and more advisors and friends who, like myself, have lived a half century or more, a common theme is the struggle to decide what to do with our remaining years (which could equate to another 35 to 40 years or more). We find ourselves questioning whether to continue to work full-time or balance our work with other activities. While many of my friends are Type A to the core, deriving our satisfaction from being fully engaged, we also desire to leave a legacy that goes beyond the office.

After many of these conversations, I recognize that many of my financially independent friends and peers want to create a legacy beyond the business they’ve built. Most of them don’t want to give up their practice or the clients they love most, and wonder how they can add more meaning to their life. Will traveling or playing golf be enough? Or will it be teaching (which many advisors are naturally great at) or volunteering to work in the not-for-profit world?

Our conferences tend to focus on being better at financial planning and investments. I believe that some of the more mature and experienced advisors could teach these sessions better than many of the chosen speakers. Perhaps one focus should be on how to “maximize enjoyment for the entrepreneur,” which would benefit both successful advisor-entrepreneurs and their business-owner clients. While coaching is certainly one aspect of this, maybe we all need to be exposed to what other things we could be doing that would enhance our lives and those of communities in and around the world.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about legacy, particularly in recent days. When I consider Bob’s all-too-short life, I am struck by how this one individual who made a difference every day can serve as a benchmark against what I (well, each of us) can contribute daily. As I was leaving the funeral, I saw out of the corner of my eye someone I had known thirty years ago. Both Bob and this man were from the same generation and shared the same background, education, and wealth. Bob chose to give of himself, his time, energy, and financial success. This other man chose not to. I sat there wondering how he must feel, knowing he had all the wealth he could ever need but never did anything seemingly positive with it except to spend it on himself and his family. Despite living in the same community, he seemed isolated in this room full of his peers, talking to no one and no one talking to him. This is a dichotomy that will always resonate with me, and I know I will always choose community over self. This is the legacy I want to leave behind.

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