Someone great once said that "to err is human." But, what does that really mean? Do we mere mortals even pay attention to all the errors and the "humanity" of those around us, especially those whom we elevate to some unreachable God-like status? I'm thinking today about Steve Jobs. In my blissful ignorance, I too thought that the man was some sort of enlightened creature, a technological and business-savvy idol that could serve as a penultimate role model. Those feelings notwithstanding, as I've been learning more and more about him, the image of Steve Jobs' is slowly coming down to earth for me and I'm recognizing that this idol might have had feet of clay.

Why such bitterness or even whiplash towards the now deceased great? Am I even justified in poking holes in his grandeur when he's gone? Probably not, but, as I've come to learn about myself, one of my many flaws is that much like a runaway train, once I get going, I can't be stopped.

Steve Job's relationship with his "real" father could generally be summed up with the use of the term "sperm donor." When his "real mother" learned that she was pregnant with Abdulfattah "John" Jandali's baby, the image of a perfect, cohesive familial unit shattered quicker than it could ever set. It was determined that the baby would be put up for adoption and in the meantime, John decided to take a hiatus from his newly-impregnated girlfriend because, I suspect, he just buckled under the pressure. And so Steve Jobs found his way somehow into the home of his adopted parents. 

In a story eerily similar to his own father's, Steve Jobs played hard and fast with procreative activities and fathered a daughter, Lisa Brennan-Jobs, with his long time girlfriend. In good keeping with his "sperm donor" father's game, Steve decided to up the ante and went so far as to not only deny his role in making his daughter, but he poignantly accused his girlfriend of sleeping around, made sworn and verified court statements that he resolutely could not be the father as he was infertile, and compounded that legal nightmare by dragging both mother and daughter through forced paternity testing all to determine that little Lisa was, indeed, his. After this painful and traumatic process in his daughter's life, somehow, Jobs' decided that perhaps he ought to have a role in his daughter's life. This all came, of course, after Lisa's mother struggled through welfare and constant relocation to try to find jobs, scraping up enough money to feed, clothe and school Lisa well into her teen years.

Some eight years into her life, Jobs finally made motions towards Lisa, albeit in what she called an "awkward" way. It took years for them to have any relationship, and much of that came only after Lisa's valiant effort to forge some bond with her father.

Steve and his father, John, never got so close, in fact, they never spoke other than a word or two through email. Despite the overtures put out by John towards Steve, no relationship was ever forged. He, much unlike his daughter, did not have an open heart. Perhaps Steve turned a blind eye to the hypocrisy of his own actions as they related to Lisa? Perhaps he should not have just ignored John? Perhaps it's all a bit too late now to recognize that dreadful double standard and what would have happened if Lisa decided to act like her own father.

What is abundantly clear is the lesson that sometimes, realizing someone's humanity prevents us from thinking we're so much different and better than everyone else. It seems to me that as we mourn the passing of Jobs, a good lesson to remember is that the other half of the opening saying is that "to forgive, is divine."