WDYDWYD? - A short story to help you reflect

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” 

Mark Twain

Life went whizzing by.

The elderly man had just stepped down from the train and was steadying himself for a moment on the busy platform. As usual it took him a while to adapt to all the to-ing and fro-ing. Out of the corner of his eye he spied a quiet spot behind a pillar to his right and then, as if swimming against a shoal of humanity, he weaved his way to the calmness and placed his small suitcase on the ground.

In that welcome pool of tranquility, standing with his back to the pillar and holding his hands rigidly by his side, he began to stretch out his aching back - as his doctor had shown him - by shifting his shoulders slightly upwards and gently moving his head up-and-down and from side-to-side. Then he began to raise himself up on his toes or as close to that goal as the old legs would muster whilst slowly moving his hands away from his body in a sort of flapping motion.

From a distance he looked as if he was attempting to levitate, or for those under the influence of narcotics to take-off in slow motion; at least that’s how it appeared to the two laughing teenagers on a nearby train who were now recording the strange ritual unfolding before their glazed-eyes. This is awesome grass, dude.

As his head bobbed slowly up-and-down, then left-to-right, each movement lessening the pain the aging man began to orient himself with the crowd around him and adjust to the faster pace of life. He didn’t like big cities, loathed them in fact, but he never did miss his bi-annual trip to see his darling niece. She not only lived in the Big Apple but was the big apple of his eye, the centre of the universe for an old bachelor who by circumstance or design never did find true love or have children of his own.

People said he was crazy to endure the long train ride from Charlotte when he could easily have made the trip in a few hours by plane. But what did people know anyway? Time, to his mind at least, was not lost on a longer journey but found; every minute of the trip was enjoyable. He never did understand the modern obsession with rushing about.

Or the need to assault him with a suitcase when clearly he was not in the way.

The jolt brought him back to reality and he waited for an apology that never came. Rubbing his knee he mumbled to himself, something about what might have happened had he been twenty years younger. Truth be known a reversal of at least double that timeframe would have been required if he was to have posed any real threat to the fast disappearing offender.

Thoughts of the passage of time made him look at his watch. The Carolinian had arrived late and considering he would probably have trouble finding his niece’s street, never mind her apartment - even though he had been there many times before - he should delay no longer he thought.

Usually, well, for the past four visits to be precise, given what had happened on previous occasions she had been there to meet him at Penn station. But on this day she had explained that she could not make it; busy with something important at work which would push well into the evening. As she had long since given up trying to convince him to take a cab she had once more provided him with the directions, more in hope than expectation of success.  

He was not a senile man. Despite what some of his actions in the city might lead one to believe that would be the wrong conclusion to draw. It was more a case that, try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to fathom the maze that for him was any large urban area; the ability to find his way in unfamiliar places had been little better during his youth so age was not the deciding factor here.

No matter how many times his niece had explained just how easy it was to find her apartment, or drew directions on a map for him, he never could get it right. If he didn’t miss the correct subway stop - which unbelievably he had done twice previously - then he would likely take the wrong exit up to the street which would disorient him further. He would often venture East instead of West or stray Uptown when Downtown was the logical direction. Each visit brought some new calamity of orientation so the best that could be hoped for was that he would again get within a block or two of where she lived. That of itself was considered an achievement by him and an enormous relief for her.

As it turned out on this particular evening he ended up doing what he had always done in the years before she took the initiative to collect him; when he couldn’t find her place, as unsurprisingly was again the case, he located somewhere comfortable in what he believed to be the general vicinity and had a drink. Or three.

Then he gave her a call and she came as soon as.

When they did meet though it was always like seeing one another for the very first time. The joy, for both of them, was immense and as they were the only family each other had left in the world this made the bond between them even stronger.

After the initial excitement subsided they settled into the same routine they followed every time he visited. The first evening, usually a Thursday, they would eat at home, often quite late if the train was delayed or if he had gotten badly lost. On Friday, if she could not take the full day off, on her way to the office she would bring him to the American Museum of Natural History on Central Park West where he never tired of spending a full day. And after she finished work they would do whatever took their fancy.

On the Saturday if the weather was good they would stroll around the city or sit in the park under the sun, sharing ice creams, memories and an occasional tear. Dinner that night was always taken at the small Italian restaurant on her block and come Sunday morning she would accompany him back to the station for his long journey home. The visits were short and structured but precious all the same.

Over the few days she would tell him all about her work, her life in the city and her loves, if there were any, which in fact there rarely were. She seemed totally engrossed in her career something the old man believed was good in one sense but seeing as time stood still for no one, worrying in another; although, never once did he raise his concerns on the matter with her.

He on the other hand would bring her up to date with all the news from North Carolina – a task that never took very long for nothing much out of the ordinary ever happened.

This visit, during dinner at Luigi’s, she explained that there had been some major changes in her company since he had last been in town, the previous CEO having retired a month or so before. “The big news is that I have just been promoted, basically to second-in-command,” she said more or less out of the blue with characteristic understatement.

He shook his head and his eyes welled up with pride.

“And you waited until now to tell me? You are some girl, Janey, do you know that?” he said in pretend scold-mode as he stood up and shuffled around the table to plant a big kiss on her cheek. Then he proceeded to embarrass her by ordering champagne and telling everyone within earshot that they were in the presence of greatness.

When they had toasted her success she told him that she had also started a new Senior Executive Development Program at City of New York University, or CNYU as she called it, which had been organized for her by the previous CEO before he left; three hours, two evenings a week for the rest of the year. This was she explained the reason why she couldn’t collect him at the station when he arrived. “So, all in all, everything is looking up work-wise,” she assured him.

It was then that he noticed how she seemed to remember something. A flash of excitement sparkled in her faultless blue eyes and she searched impatiently in her handbag, biting her lip slightly as she always did when on a mission. After several moments, once the lipstick, phone, hairbrush, atomizer, tissues, pens and various other non-descript items had been fished out and then replaced, she found a piece of paper, smoothed it down and passed it across the table to him.

WDYDWYD?

The old man fumbled for the glasses in his breast pocket and placed them on the bridge of his nose. Drawing the candle towards him for extra light he looked closely at the paper.

“What do you think that means, Uncle Wills,” she asked using the pet name she had for him since childhood.

“Now, let me see . . .” he said, stalling for time because in truth he had not the faintest idea what it meant. Searching for a pattern of some sort he could clearly see that there were a number of Ws, Ys, and Ds involved; and for an excited second or two he wondered whether it might not be some sort of play on the word ‘wedding’. But he quickly thought better of voicing that particular suggestion.

“Oh, I give up,” he said after what he felt was an acceptable period, adding mock frustration to his tone for effect.

Jane laughed and explained that it stood for, Why do you do what you do? It was, she said, part of her first project on the development program.

“And they gave you the whole week to answer that one question? Sure, there is no work in that, Janey? What sort of course have they sent you on?” he joked. “You can answer it off the top of your head, can’t you?”

“But you see, Uncle Wills, I can’t find an answer. That’s the problem. When we spoke about it in class on Thursday evening I simply could not come up with anything meaningful that made sense to the others. Yes, I talked about all the things I had achieved so far or the plans I had for my new position but they kept telling me that all I was explaining was my role; be that past, present or future. They were looking for the ‘Why’ behind it all. It was so frustrating. . .Uncle Wills, do you know why you do what you do?”

“Yes, of course I do, Janey.”

“So, why do you do it then?”

“For the money of course. Why else?”

Jane looked at him cautiously for a moment on the off-chance that he might actually have been serious. Then catching his eye they both burst into laughter. Serving as a no-win-no-fee lawyer in a small farming community for the past 20 years – and one who rarely won a case at that - was a far from profitable venture.

“But, seriously, why do you do it?”

“Because, Janey, I want to help people. No more, no less than that. Most of the Contingency Lawyers I know look at the odds of winning a case before they consider taking it on. I only look into the person’s eyes and if they seem to me like they need, but also deserve help, then I agree to represent them regardless of the likelihood of winning.”

“But, you don’t make any money, Uncle Wills, and you have had to work way past retirement age. How can that be rewarding?”

“I made all the money I needed for a good life long ago, Janey. I have plenty to get by or as much as I need at any rate which is not really a lot. Okay, you are right, none of the cases I take on these days make me much money but they do make me happy. And that’s far more valuable. I could retire any time I wanted to, really I could, but what would I do all day? Yes, it is true, I do lose more cases than I win nowadays although that’s not because I’m suddenly a lousy lawyer or that I am too old to do what I do well. No, I lose them because most of the cases are unwinnable anyway; yet, what I give my clients is the understanding that they are not alone, that they count. Both they, and I, get something from that I believe.

“And even if I don’t win, I often raise awareness on certain issues or spark debate around town about important matters – that is an invaluable service to the community-at-large. I don’t know if your dear ‘ole dad ever told you this, Janey,” he continued “but when I finished law school I graduated first in my class. Yes, I had offers from some of the top firms here and in Washington, D.C. but the big city life never appealed to me. I always said that once I qualified I would put my skills to good use in places where people still cared about one another. And that’s what I did.

“Now, don’t get me wrong I didn’t always do it for charitable or civic reasons alone – but I made my money relatively early in life and when I had enough put aside I closed that practice and then started to do what I really wanted to do. For sure, my partner in the firm was absolutely furious with me at the time, and probably still is, but he went on to bigger and brighter things and was appointed to the Bench a number of years back so it worked out for him too in the end.

“Since I folded the business, I have spent my time helping those less fortunate than me. That’s my Why, Janey. Simple as that.”

There was silence for a moment.

“But I don’t feel anything remotely like those powerful motives in what I’m doing,” she began, “even though it’s all going very well for me right now. I just do what I do because I want to get on in life. There’s no real ‘Why’ for me in my job. That makes me a failure, doesn’t it?”

“Far from it, Janey . . . let me tell you a little story about someone you may have heard of that might help put your mind at ease. This man I am thinking of was a farmer for a while: hated it with a passion by all accounts. Then he was, at one time or another, a rail-splitter, boatman, storekeeper, postmaster and a surveyor. He even considered becoming a blacksmith at one point. He was also part-owner in a business that went bankrupt although he didn’t walk away from his debts. His life had many twists and turns until he found something that he was passionate about.

“And when he did find his thing, armed with his undoubted talents he became very good at his chosen field. Even so, it still wasn’t until his early fifties that he achieved his ultimate goal.

“Who do you suppose I am talking about, sweetie?”

“I have no idea, Uncle Wills. Who is it?”

“Abraham Lincoln . . . you see, not everyone finds it easy to figure out what their passion in life is or indeed to find it early and he was no exception. But when he did find what he was looking for he achieved great things. In fact when he could answer your WDYDWYD? puzzle nothing held him back.

“You’ll find your Why in due course, Janey, and by the way, it doesn’t have to be as lofty an ambition as to become President. Each to his own. Keep thinking about it and in time it will come to you. That’s how it works for most people. It will hit you when you least expect it to. The best people in any walk of life are the ones who at some stage or other find a Why that is all consuming for them; one which drives them on to achieve great things even if it doesn’t always require them to seek great office or change the world.

“The problem is not that you can’t find your Why right this minute. The real problem would be if you never cared about finding it in the first place . . .”

If you prefer life and work lessons wrapped up in short story format, why not read my book, ‘Journeys – Short Stories and Tall Tales for Managers’. Click on the image to the left to purchase the book on Amazon, or if you'd like a signed copy you can purchase one directly on this site via our products page.