Danny Rosin

My sister, Nanette, told me she had something special of our dads to give me. He died from dementia five years ago. So, I felt a sense of intrigue, emotion, and anticipation.

When she and I rendezvoused, Nanette shared my father’s legal ledger from his psychiatric practice in 1986. There were articles of incorporation, bylaws, and shareholder agreements. He was the only shareholder, so he was listed as president, vice president, secretary and even treasurer. That made me smile.

I never really thought about my dad, a psychiatrist, as an entrepreneur, but these documents said otherwise.  Running your own business is not for the faint of heart. But he did it. It’s not lost on me that he assumed all that risk so he could take care of our family. His business ledger was a reminder of that for me.

Interestingly, on the inside cover was a hand-held, old school, metal embossing corporate seal. When I took the 40-year-old seal and compressed it upon a piece of paper, it read, “David A. Rosin & Associates P.C. * Corporate Seal * 1986 * Virginia.” I felt empowered.

This newly found object reminded me of my career in branding. All of that embossing and debossing of designs and logos I have managed for Brand Fuel clients through the years. Imprints that stand for something. Decorations that tell a story. Calls to action.

There’s something to be said for receiving something so special that relates to a lost loved one, years after they have passed. I can imagine my dad’s hands squeezing that seal upon legal documents that, I hope, helped his business grow or, better yet, helped his psychiatric patients through the years in some way.

Like many of you who have lost parents, I miss my dad. But, in moments like this, I smile, and I remember that I am who I am, in part because of who he was.