The clock showed 2:00 AM. I sat back and closed my eyes for a few minutes before I went to bed. I had just finished reading Walter Isaacson’s biography of Steve Jobs. I loved the book. It was a fast read considering the technical and business nature of most chapters. It is a book that I will get a personal copy of for I know I will be reading and re-reading a few chapters.
It has been three days since I finished the book and I am not done processing it yet. The book is like an onion. Layers that peel to reveal changing hues inside. On the surface one can dismiss Jobs personality as Mrs Scully famously said: “When I look into most people’s eyes, I see a soul. When I look into your eyes, I see a bottomless pit, an empty hole, a dead zone.”
Jobs life is one of dizzying success, a quest for perfection and a mission to change the world. Somewhere in the middle of all this is his story of being born to one set of parents, being raised by another and the impact it has on his personality. As a mother of girls I share with another mother, the adoption aspect of his life has always fascinated me. In reading the book, I parsed for clues, looked for reassurance that nature and nurture both count and came away with questions unanswered.
As I chew and ruminate on a life snatched too early, I tip my hat mentally to a person who cried all too easily, made mistakes and learnt from them and above all changed my life in ways I cannot even fathom.