It was a single word, written in shaky cursive on a yellow sticky note, stuck to an elderly man’s fridge.

David was his name. Grandfather of Sam. PROUD grandfather of his only grandchild. Sam had gone to USC, worked hard to get two degrees in Aeronautical engineering, and had become, literally, a rocket scientist. He is now a member of an elite engineering team, designing and building hypersonic engines for a company named Hermeus.

Such a strange name for a company, and an unusual career for Sam. David did not care, for he was proud of his grandson and did not ever want to forget the name of his grandson’s company. So, he wrote the name, Hermeus, on a sticky note, and placed it on his fridge.

That’s where Sam found it when he went to David’s house after his grandfather had passed suddenly from a heart attack. David had many things: objects, items, possessions, collections. All of them of more apparent value than that one, singular sticky note, with a single word—Hermeus. Sam did not care. He wanted, needed, nothing more than David’s humble expression of love, and honor of Sam’s work, a sticky note which simply said, Hermeus.

Now it is 7:30 pm on a Tuesday evening. The lawn care company has been blowing the astro-turfed yard next door for three hours, ridding it of oak leaves shed by the tree as it transitions from winter into spring, as it does every March. No one lives in this house any longer. Yet the astroturf must be tended to.

A storm approaches from the west, lightning and thunder distantly announcing that more leaves will be blown from the branches of trees canopied above the empty astroturf surrounding the empty house. The lawn care crew will be back in two days—as if they had never done this work today—to do it once again. Rote effort, with no lasting consequence.

Hermeus, the Greek god, was the mediator between Zeus and mortals. Presumably, founders of the aerospace company, Hermeus chose the name in order to convey the qualities of the god Hermeus, who was associated with speed, eloquence, and invention. Yet Hermeus was also the Olympian god of messengers and transitions, and the guide of souls from this world to the afterlife (underworld). So, in my wild imagination, perhaps prompted by yet another aspect of Hermeus, that of a trickster, not unlike the role Coyote plays in Native American culture (as well as in the Roadrunner cartoon—BEEP BEEP!) I determined that it might have been the god Hermeus himself who had coaxed David to write his name on a sticky note, and then directed Sam to find that note.

In this rendering of reality, the invisible hand of the god, Hermeus guided Sam past all of the worldly possessions left by David upon his passing: the unopened bottles of expensive whiskey, the rare prints and books, even the Porsche that he’d continued to drive well into his 90’s; leading him instead right to the fridge, where he would find that most humble of David’s possessions. Not even really a possession at all. Yet, all at once, a simple piece of paper, and a powerful lightning bolt. In this manner, Hermeus had done another good day’s work, linking the divine world to the mortal world.

With this sticky note, Sam had the luck (another feature associated with Hermeus) to stumble upon the most valuable of inanimate objects. The thing that makes objects valuable. The expression of love, pride and honor. And the multiplier of this type of inanimate object is in its humility and simplicity. What could be humbler and simpler than a sticky note, with a single word written upon it?

This note of love from grandfather David to grandson Sam is not an impermanent gesture, like the blowing of the fallen oakleaves at an empty house. It is a powerful gravity, a one and only, an authentic vehicle of bonding, the wings of love crossing time and space. The Roman form of Hermeus is the god Mercury, who wears a winged traveler’s hat which allows him to effortlessly cross all “boundaries”. This sticky note is like that; a portal connecting generations of this family, from David to Sam, and perhaps in the future, Sam to his own grandchildren. And beyond. And beyond that.

And what will survive of our own present efforts, possessions, thoughts and prayers? What will be blown away by the next gust of wind, or even by someone just doing routine maintenance? It is a bit of a mystery how the smallest of gestures, the most humble expressions, performed in ways that may seem meaningless at the time, can become the most meaningful things we ever do. So meaningful that they are able to cross time and space. As if Hermeus was real and the messages we send into the future are worthy of his careful and speedy guidance.

This is the message from our sponsor, the messenger himself: The myth of Hermes is not so much the story of material world versus the spiritual world as it is the story of what passes between life and death. What exists in both life and beyond life.

 

Born to an anglo Dad and a Cuban emigré mother, Ray Brimble spent his childhood in Houston, Texas flying homemade kites, teaching himself guitar, gazing at clouds. After earning a bachelor’s at UT Austin and a master’s from GWU he became Founder and CEO of Lynxs Holdings, LP and several other companies.