Sunday, June 30, 2019

On Loss, Regret, and Being Grateful

A year ago in June I learned of the passing of one of my chemistry professors in January, a brilliant organic chemist.  His classes were so well-taught I still have the notebooks from 1996.  I still contend that his notes were the best textbook I have ever had.  He would come into class with a 3" x 5" note card with a few lines written on it, pull it out of his pocket, look at it, and back into the pocket the card would go, never to be seen again.  This is the professor who taught me to take notes in color, who once mathematically proved there is such a thing as a no-brainer.  

Just this past week, I learned of the death of another of my chemistry professors.  This one I didn't care for as much, but I liked him as an individual.  His office was across from my research lab, and I grew to appreciate him though I had a hard time understanding his lectures.  He died three weeks after I learned of my organic chem professor's death.  This professor's death hit me rather hard.   Perhaps it was because of the other recent deaths in my family.  Perhaps it was because it was a year before I heard.  Perhaps the fact he was on hospice with the same group as my aunt didn't help, either.  

I realize it has been twenty-one years since I graduated with a BS in Chemistry, but it still hit hard to hear of their deaths.  It also brought to mind an event from some twenty-two years ago.  I was in my physical chemistry professor's office trying to understand something and failing miserably, and in frustration I muttered, "I'm just too dumb to understand this."  I received a several minute lecture from him about how I was only too tired, not dumb, and I shouldn't have to work so hard while a student.  I still remember that tirade today, and it still inspires me today.  Yet I neither thanked him nor told him how that speech has followed me through some dark times.  Until now.  This past week, I wrote to him and thanked him for that speech all those years ago.  Shock of shocks he remembered me, called me an "excellent student", and reiterated that he still felt the same as he did back then.  

Do not wait to tell someone how much they mean to you, or thank someone who has influenced you in your life.  You may not get the chance.

Oakland University's motto is "Seguir virtute e canoscenza", 'seek virtue and knowledge'.  It is from Dante's Inferno.  No matter the degree, it is an apt motto for higher education.  Life will throw many obstacles in one's way.  I could write a book about mine, about those individuals, even at Oakland University, who told me I "wouldn't be hireable".  Today, twenty-one years later, I use my degree every day.  I use classes I never thought I would use, which were not related to my degree.   I am not paid one red cent for using my degree, but I have retained my honor.  In my research in my garden, I answer to myself and not a corporation.  I have no reason to lie to myself.  I also continue to seek knowledge.  I have continued to read, my current book being Crime and Punishment until John Coykendall's book Preserving Our Roots: My Journey to Save Seeds and Stories is released this fall.   Higher education isn't about how much money one makes;  It is about improving oneself.   And honestly, I do not know if I would be where I am today, if a physical chemistry distinguished professor hadn't snapped when I called myself dumb.