Have you ever noticed how little attention we give something until it stops working?
I think about this more as I get older.
Maybe we shouldn’t wait until a relationship is struggling before giving it attention.
Maybe we shouldn’t wait until someone leaves before telling them they mattered.
Maybe we shouldn’t wait until our health changes before appreciating what our body allows us to do every day.
And maybe we shouldn’t assume that because something is quietly working, it isn’t important.
The older I get, the more I notice the things that don’t make much noise.
The people who are simply there. The person in the family who makes the calls, remembers the birthdays, keeps everyone talking and somehow knows when something isn’t right.
We don’t necessarily think about the role they play.
Until they stop doing it.
I’ve seen the same thing throughout my time in construction.
When someone walks into a newly finished room, they see what’s in front of them. The decoration, the flooring, the bathroom or the kitchen.
But some of the most important things are the things they can’t see.
The preparation underneath the finish. The waterproofing behind the wall. The ventilation quietly removing moisture.
Nobody thinks about them when they’re working.
They notice them when they fail.
And that’s what made me realise there is a connection between the two.
Life isn’t a building, but I think there’s something in that.
We naturally notice what’s visible. The promotion. The new house. The holiday. The person who speaks the loudest in the room.
But some of the things holding our lives together are much quieter.
Someone you can phone when things aren’t going well.
Coming home and knowing somebody is there.
Being healthy enough to get up in the morning without thinking about your health.
Having people you trust and who trust you.
Even having a normal routine.
When those things are working, it’s easy to take them for granted.
I’ve seen this with people on construction projects too.
Sometimes there’s someone who doesn’t have the biggest title and isn’t the person everybody sees, but they know the project.
They remember why something was agreed months ago. They know who to call. They notice the small issue before it becomes a bigger one.
Then that person leaves.
Suddenly questions don’t have answers. Things take longer. People start looking for information that used to exist in someone’s head.
Their importance didn’t suddenly increase when they left.
We just noticed it when they were gone.
I think we do the same thing in life more than we realise.
A friendship becomes more important when contact stops.
Our health becomes more important when something changes.
Time becomes more important when we realise how quickly it has passed.
Someone’s contribution becomes obvious when they’re no longer making it.
Construction has taught me that waiting for something to fail before giving it attention can be expensive.
A small leak behind a wall might not seem important today. Left long enough, it can damage far more than the place where it started.
And maybe that’s the part worth thinking about.
Not everything gives us a warning before it changes.
Sometimes the people and things we rely on have been quietly doing their job for so long that we’ve stopped noticing them.
Perhaps part of getting older is learning to notice them again.
Not when they’re gone.
Not when something breaks.
Not when we’re looking back wishing we’d done something differently.
While they’re still here.
Because some of the most important parts of a building are the parts nobody ever sees.
And some of the most important parts of life can be the same.
Maybe legacy isn’t only about what we leave behind.
Maybe it’s also about whether the people around us knew what they meant to us while we were still here to tell them.
We shouldn’t have to lose something before we understand what was holding everything together.
Life. Construction. Legacy.
Thoughts on life through construction and the built environment
— Marlon Amele
Chartered Construction Manager | Founder of BuildionX
Marlon Amele | Life. Construction. Legacy. 