A few days ago I was sat on a beach in Vietnam when I received a call to say that my father had unexpectedly collapsed and was receiving medical support en route to hospital in the Netherlands. Half an hour later a second call came to say he was dead. This week's episode is to remember the good times we had together, and the lessons learned from an intelligent, charismatic, eccentric, and unapolagetically Dutch man.
The first thing anyone mentions when they talk about my father is that he was extremely sociable. Anyone and everyone was either already a friend, or simply a friend that hadn't met yet. This is a rare gift in today's world, and the ability to make people feel comfortable, accepted, and included, is something I admired about him. It's also something both my sister and I learned in different ways growing up. My sister, now an accomplished Detective Sergeant in the British Police can similarly befriend anyone, which is invaluable in her line of work and indeed life in general. Similarly in the tech world, being able to quickly build relationships has been a great help both in city and personal life.
The second thing you have to know about my father is that he was terrible with finances, but now it seems in the best possible way. He was extremely generous, and enjoyed the finest things in life as often as possible. He joined me for a portion of my travels across Bulgaria a few months ago, and during that trip we discussed among many things his plans for the future, retirement goals, and all that sort of thing. Through that I learned that he really lived life, usually sparing no expense, and to the absolute detriment of any future growth. In a funny way I'm very happy to have understood that about him now, as I know there can be no regrets on that front, and I'm glad that my more conservative investment pitches were never fully implemented.
The third thing, and something known well to close friends and family, is that my father was never late. It seems to be a curse running down the male side of the family, as I find myself with an identical affliction. This obsessive punctuality is also something that's not too common, and again is something that I'm now glad we shared, as attending every appointment, meeting, or event, is a reminder of his influence. In case you'd like to join the club, the rule is simple; arrive (exactly) ten minutes before any engagement but do not engage until the agreed start time. If the counterparty is also early, use it as bonus social time. If the counterparty is ten minutes late, the event is cancelled.
We had a complicated relationship, but as the years passed the most important lesson I learned through our time together is forgiveness. Perfection from anyone is an unreasonable expectation, and seeing this expectation break from a son to a father is a natural part of growing up. I wish I had realised this sooner, but we can't go back now.
There are many more lessons than will fit neatly in an email, but these are the ones I feel most strongly and want to remember most.
Unfortunately there isn't a nice 'next episode' for something like this either, only an infinite list of things that can never happen. We'll never, as I thought we one day might, walk together as old men maybe at the end of a garden, looking back at a party and talk about our journey to get there. We'll never have coffee on the riviera of some far flung country again, or have talks about marriage, children, life changes and worries, and everything else. Sad times, but I choose to remember the good. To a man who lived life more than most ever dare. Be kind, be bold, always take the shot. To my dad.
Erik Scholten MD PhD, 1960-2026
Thanks and all the best,
Oliver