Listening. Then Listening Some More.

 

After Dad's funeral,  

I took a call from a relative who had held a high position in the emergency services. I remembered, from childhood, how proud he was of his uniform and his polished shoes. 

 

"I want you to visit me," he said, right after telling me how proud he was that I had organised Dad's final journey just as he would have wanted. 

 

We hadn't been in regular contact through my adult years. But at ninety six, his sharpness, presence, and leadership ability blow me away. They always will. 

 

When I visit, his first question is always, "How's the family?" I give him an update on each of us, and then he moves on to RTSC and asks about our progress. 

 

Then I listen.  

Each time, he asks, "Have I told you this before?" "No," I say. And then the stories come. 

 

 

This time with him has taught me that my grief journey sits mostly in a place of acceptance now. But there's still regret; I wish Mum had lived long enough to see who I've become. And I wish I had taken more time to listen when I was so busy proving myself in the corporate world. 

 

So, if your mum or dad shows up on your phone today, take the time to. Listen. Then listen some more. 

 

 

At RTSC, we often discuss mental well-being, personal development, and leading with a people-first mindset.  

 

These values mean more to me now than ever. I've learned, sometimes through regret, that leadership isn't just about making decisions or driving outcomes; it's also about inspiring others to do the same. It's about presence. It's about listening when it matters most. I wish I had made more time to listen to Mum when I was busy proving myself. That lesson remains with me, both personally and professionally. As we support others in leading with empathy and care, I'm reminded that the most powerful leadership often begins at home, with a conversation, a question, and the willingness to listen. Then listen some more. 

 

Annette