The Weight That Inspires Us

In the span of just twenty-four hours this past Saturday and Sunday, I experienced something both humbling and challenging. I was reminded, through three people I deeply admire, of the quiet responsibility we carry in the lives of others.

Our six-year-old granddaughter, Millie, recently completed a kindergarten project asking students to name the person they most admire. Millie’s answer was “Poppy.” That’s me.

Then, nearly 2,000 miles away, her five-year-old cousin Ellie completed a similar assignment listing things that make her smile. Her answer included “jokes… and Poppy.” Again, that’s me—apparently known for my bad jokes.

Most of us recognize the responsibilities that come with adulthood. Some days the weight of those responsibilities feels heavier than others. But hearing that these two bright young girls place their admiration and trust in their grandfather added a different kind of weight. It felt like someone had slipped a few extra stones into my backpack just when I thought it was already full. Yet it’s a meaningful weight—the kind that reminds you that someone is watching, learning, and believing in you.

The very next day, Beth and I attended the celebration of life for a man I had admired for the fourteen years I knew him: Charlie Harr. Charlie and I met while serving on the board of the East Tennessee Veterans Association. From the moment I met him, he carried himself with a rare blend of humility, professionalism, and warmth. He was the kind of person you learned from simply by being around him—even if you didn’t realize it at the time.

What made that even more remarkable was his extraordinary background. Charlie had been a preeminent U.S. Air Force fighter pilot who flew combat missions and commanded fighter squadrons around the world. Among his peers, he was known as “Bandit 151,” marking him as only the second operational pilot of the stealth fighter jet. Yet you would never have guessed it from the way he carried himself.

Charlie’s legacy wasn’t just in what he accomplished professionally, but in the way he lived his life—through service, humility, and a genuine desire to help others. Being around him challenged me to be better, to serve more, and to accept a little more weight in the backpack of life when it meant helping someone else.

That perspective also carries into our work at Rather & Kittrell. We have the privilege of walking alongside clients as they make weighty decisions for themselves and the people they love.

This week, I encourage you to slow down for a moment and recognize your own “Millies,” “Ellies,” and “Charlies.” They’re there. Live up to who they believe you can be—and let’s continue helping each other carry the load as the world grows louder and more complicated around us.

Tim Eichhorn is a partner and Senior Advisor with Rather & Kittrell. He is available at [email protected].