Life Lessons Learned Along the Way: An Early Lesson from Grandma
We continue our series of personal, impactful stories that have shaped how we practice law.
I have written here previously about my family’s influence on me. I was an only child raised, essentially, by four very distinct people: my parents and two grandparents. Each of these people was, surprisingly, very different, and each taught me very separate lessons. These were particularly pronounced in a time and age where most of my peers came from large, extended families. The voices of the people around me were all quite unique.
I have written of how my grandfather came to the United States shortly before World War I. Having no money, education, but a lot of smarts, he built a successful business, which included owning several restaurants. Grandma worked in one of those restaurants, which is where they met. She was always the softer voice, constantly defending her grandson. Unfortunately, she was also the first to pass away when I was still fairly young. She always spent a lot of time with me, but even more so when she realized the time she had left was nearing an end. She also wanted to leave me with something tangible by which to remember her, not that I could ever forget.
She decided the most relevant thing she could leave was a book. In fact, she left me several books, but one was called The Little Engine That Could. I am sure that many of you have heard of it. It is a book steeped in American tradition. In it, a “little engine” accomplishes great things by hard work and optimism. I realized that at a very young age, she was attempting to teach me these values and the notion of perseverance. From that point on, I developed a love of reading. Over the years, I have read and accumulated so many books. I rarely give them away when I’m done and never, never, ever throw them out. Consequently, I have long since run out of logical places to keep them. Nonetheless, the book grandma gave me as a young child retains a prominent place on the bookshelf in my home office next to many others, including old law school textbooks. I learned something from all of them.
I cannot say I am the hardest working person I know. Life, and law, put obstacles in our way all the time. It is easy simply to say it is too hard. I would rather go to the beach than to the office. Sometimes those obstacles seem insurmountable. When they do, I have learned the necessity of stopping, taking a deep breath, then moving on, even if I do not want to do so. That is true in all aspects of life and particularly in the practice of law. I would not have done it this long if it did not bring me pleasure far more often than not. The days when it does not, however, can easily lead to taking a different road and being sidetracked. Perseverance is a hard thing to do, but highly rewarding in the end. Every time I feel like not taking that road, I think about my grandmother and remember why that book is still on my shelf these many years later. I think Grandma would be pleased that it is.
In our second article this month, David Saperstein examines the evolving dynamics of the Michigan Supreme Court, highlighting the shift in judicial precedent since the 2000s.