My friend Eleanor Fisher died on Sunday.
You might be wondering what this has to do with Powerful Presence. It has a lot to do with it.
Powerful Presence is your impact on other people; it can only be identified in your interactions. From the moment we met, in the lobby of the Denver Sheraton West Hotel in August 2002, I experienced Eleanor’s presence as powerful. She was the most completely authentic person I have ever known.
She was fierce – as a champion for diversity, in her pursuit of excellence in her work, and in her love for all people, especially her friends. Eleanor’s love was like a down comforter and a cup of hot tea on a cold day – and you always felt it, whether you were in her presence or not.
We worked closely together for 3 years on the Diversity Council (formerly SEPAC). After becoming instant friends, we deepened our relationship through our experiences in the work.
Around 2005, she left the government agency where she worked. (I had completed my consulting work there.) She had been battling cancer for several years; her practice was to come to work after taking her chemo treatments. During that time, she was the weakest I had ever seen her. The sudden death of the man she loved in late 2004 had really taken a toll on her. She was weak in her body – although every bit as fierce in her heart.
Our last visit was in her room at Reston Hospital.
She had been rushed there by a friend; another of our mutual friends told me where she was. Everyone thought the cancer would win and this would be it. She had been fighting so hard for so long.
Even from her hospital bed, her presence was powerful – and she was focused on me, not herself. I thought this was the end of her life – she assured me that it was not.
Then I lost touch with her after I moved to Ohio; the details don’t matter now. I thought of her often, yet I didn’t want to know who had won her battle with cancer. That was over 4 years ago.
By sheer stroke of luck, we found each other on Facebook on October 15. Each of us did a virtual dance of joy and promised to talk “soon.”
Ten days later, she was dead.
So here’s the final gift I got from Eleanor Fisher: the understanding that it’s never too late to reach out and tell people that you love them, that they matter to you and that you treasure their presence in your life.
Do it NOW – and pass it on.