The wonderful serendipity of showing up

9/2/2026

My mom always enjoyed a good funeral. 

Up until she was nearly 98, she traveled many miles to attend the funeral of someone’s mother or father, or aunt or uncle. Did she know them? Maybe — perhaps by the slimmest of threads — the mother of a friend of a friend of my oldest sister. But my mom religiously went. She sat through the service, went to the burial site, and then attended the church luncheon that followed. And the mourners loved her, this little old lady in her church best. It meant something to them and something to her.

Yup, my mom showed up. 

Of course, my siblings and I made endless fun of her behind her back — as loving children will do (as I’m sure my adult children do). Why would anyone go to so many funerals?

Years ago, when my boss was then Polk County Attorney John Sarcone, I made a decision declining to prosecute a case in West Des Moines. That was not what the West Des Moines Police Department wanted. They were not happy. 

Sarcone said, “Joe, why don’t you go out to the West Des Moines PD and explain your reasoning?” 

Well, there were a lot of reasons to not go out. Let’s start with they were going to yell at me.

Sarcone would not be put off. So off I went to meet the unhappy officers at the West Des Moines Police Department.

Lo and behold, a crowd was waiting for me. Yikes. I’m going to get yelled at by a room full of cops. This is going to stink, and I’m going to feel crappy. So I gave them my arguments as to why I decided what I decided — and, folks, this is not a fairy tale — they yelled at me. A lot of opinionated people. Yuck!

That night, Sarcone called and asked how it went. I told him I was roundly hated. He commiserated and thanked me for going.

But the next day I started hearing from the cops in West Des Moines. Cop after cop reached out to me. They still thought I was completely wrong, that I had clearly lost my marbles — but that isn’t why they called. They wanted to thank me for showing up. My showing up and taking the heat eclipsed everything else. Showing up counted.

My goodness. Who knew?

Daniel Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson wrote a book called “The Power of Showing Up: How Parental Presence Shapes Who Our Kids Become and How Their Brains Get Wired.” Yes, it’s a catchy title — and fairly indicting of my parenting. But they explain the importance of showing up. The book is grounded in attachment theory (which, yes, helps explains why I want to hide in my closet) and neurobiology (“Anything we give attention to creates new links in the brain”).

Siegel and Bryson make a bold claim: No matter how imperfect of a parent you are, no matter how many times you have screwed up discipline or rewards — or whatever else parenting books recommend — you need only to default to one thing: show up. And that’s enough.

I believe the same rules apply to us as adults. Showing up is what counts.

Now don’t get me wrong, showing up to face the music rarely ended in kudos in my career. A young woman from one large family died in a car accident where members of another large family were involved. Very Hatfields-and-McCoys situation. I declined charges, and at Sarcone’s insistence, met with both families. Trust me, both families hated me. And neither family reached out and said “attaboy” for showing up. Nope. It was miserable.

But that was all right. Showing up was the right thing to do.

By the way, Sarcone also went to funerals. A lot. He knew people, and he made a point of being present to honor the dead and the living. I would see him at work all decked out in his dark suit, heading out to another funeral. I was impressed. He showed up.

And if you’re concerned about what to say or what to do when you show up, no worries. Showing up is enough. My mom didn’t speak wise words at those funerals she attended. She didn’t entertain the crowd. She didn’t gossip. She didn’t perform for anyone’s enjoyment. She wore her Sunday dress without any expectation that it would be on the cover of “Vanity Fair.” Her purse contained giant wrap-around sunglasses and crackers and cheese and a water bottle. She had an emergency grocery sack in the car for her other food items in case there was a nuclear disaster. And there she was in all her glory. She showed up and smiled and listened. That was enough.

My mom died last year. Her funeral was in Boone. As I looked out from the family seats in the front row, I saw the emptiness created by living longer than your friends and peers. They had passed a decade before my mom. And we, her kids still left alive, were all old men and women ourselves.

But there in the back, sitting alone, was Shane Goodman, my CITYVIEW editor. Lordy. He caught me by surprise — in a wonderful way. As I’m sure John Sarcone did for mourners back in the day. And as my mom did until the end of her life. They showed up.

There is a  wonderful serendipity to showing up — no one expects it, and it is a lovely surprise. So get ready. Pack your bag with cheese and crackers and a water bottle. It’s time to show up. ♦

Joe Weeg spent 31 years bumping around this town as a prosecutor for the Polk County Attorney’s Office. Now retired, he writes about the frequently overlooked people, places and events in Des Moines on his blog: www.joesneighborhood.com.