My Child

I was never so blessed as to have children. I bemoaned that fact for many years. But in the last few years I have come to know a new peace and a new happiness concerning the matter.

　

Many times we do not understand the workings of God. We only understand our desires and lack of them. In our short times on this earth we seek to procure all that we can... even if it is to accumulate family. But as the old saying goes, "You can't take it with you."

　

I know now that decisions I have made in my life would have had tragic consequences if I had had children to follow me through them. I know now that God was more than kind to me. And the most important thing I know now is that I had a child to rear and protect the whole time. That child was me.

　

I never grew up. Oh, I got old. Don't we all? In fact for many a year it was my battle cry: "I may age, but I refuse to grow up!" Little did I know how true that was.

　

And then the day of reckoning came when I was faced with the ugly facts. I had my moment of truth. A friend did what friends do best; she held up a mirror for me to see myself. I can't say I was pleased with the image, but I was relieved to finally know the truth.

　

I had shared with her some terrible anguish. I can't remember it now. I was always in crisis back then, and I'm sure it was of little relevance anyway. But I will never forget what she told me. I was sobbing and when it ceased, I wiped the tears from my eyes and sheepishly looked at her and said, "Well that was pretty childish, huh?"

　

"Don't be so hard on yourself," she said in a soft voice. I loved the compassion she had for others. God certainly was kind when he placed her in my life. My heart felt uplifted and lighter. And then she continued, "It's very hard to believe you could be childish. I find you to be juvenile deficient."

　

The warm fuzzies melted instantly being replaced with rage. She saw the shift although I didn't say a word. "You know, we sometimes don't grow the way we should," she went on. "At those times we have to pick up where others left off. We have to then, in essence, parent ourselves. The good news is that now you are aware. I hope you can find peace inside and step up and do the right thing for yourself."

　

The warm fuzzies almost returned. I knew she was right, but I knew nothing of child rearing. This was going to be a hell of a trip, good Lord willing and the creek didn't rise!

And here, years later, I have to admit it has been an adventure. But if it weren't for her I never would have gotten to meet that child, much less nurture her into some semblance of wellness. I'm so glad she held up that mirror for me. I'm so glad I listened. I'm so glad that a hundred years from now the world may be better because I made a difference in that one child's life... mine.

No Idle Hands

What a day today was! I was so exhausted after writing non-stop for hours that I had to lay down. When I was in the hospital last week, the interruptions and regular hospital chaos frustrated me. I couldn't put a thought together. At times I wondered if I ever would again.

But today the flow was easy, open and constant. I even hated to rest for a while for fear it may not return. I even forgot to eat and that's not good considering my health. But the fruits of my labors made me happy and that is a commodity much needed in this neighborhood lately.

During one lull between writing spurts I thought about Jim. My goodness! I hadn't thought of him in years. He was one of the best bosses I ever had. I was a woman working in a man's world but he never made me feel as though I was less than anyone else even when my physical body couldn't match the strength of the men. He would just improvise and always left my dignity intact.

He had this way about him that made you want to do more and more and you were never left feeling like you got cheated when you received your paycheck. He was a kind-hearted man who ran a tight ship without having to belittle anyone. I learned more in the year working for him than I did in other jobs that I stayed for multiple years.

I overcame many fears in that year and I noticed that my confidence, not only for the job but for life in general, improved twenty fold. It was a hard job, a physical job. But when I slept at night I knew I had been tired for a reason. I learned many things that I can still use today in my own home.

But one of the lessons I learned had little to do with the job itself. It had to do with respect and earning your own way. One day he went out to get coffee and donuts for us. He was kind like that. Every other day or so he would insist on it being 'his treat.' He really knew how to take care of his people and to make them feel important.

You've heard the old saying, 'When the cat's away, the mice will play.' It was no different there. He wasn't out the door two minutes when the guys decided they would go out on a smoke break. Of course that meant they would be outside until they saw his truck coming in the distance and then they would run back in like little boys trying not to get caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

They prodded me to join them, but I was using a tool that I couldn't simply lay down for fear of the heat damaging its surroundings. Any other tool would have been cast aside I'm sure and I would have been as guilty of not working as they were. But instead I kept to the task at hand.

The one thing they didn't count on was that he was going to come from a different direction than usual. I doubt it was a sinister plan of his. Maybe he had another errand to run also. I don't know. But when he pulled into the driveway from the opposite direction, he caught all ten guys out there goofing off.

He wasn't one to harp on things. He gave leeway where it shouldn't have been an option sometimes. But his main concern was helping others to maintain their right to be themselves. I can't ever remember anyone saying that someone in the past had been fired. His way was to nurture people and give them chances that perhaps other employers wouldn't. What he ended up with most times was a group of people who would literally do just about anything for him out of the same kind of respect that he bestowed on others.

He came into the house as he usually did announcing break time and come and get it. The first few minutes were very awkward. Finally he broke the laborious silence.

"Bob," he said. "How long have you worked for me?"

"Nearly eight years, Jim," was his response.

"And you, Willie, how about you?"

Willie spoke up saying, "Add two to that. Ten years in August."

"Well you two are the senior workers here today. Have either one of you ever seen me lose my temper?"

They both shook their heads no.

"Well," he began, "that's because anger only hides other feelings. I choose to live differently. I choose to work things out. And today I have a problem."

As I looked around I saw all the guys with their heads down. Instinctively it seemed, I lowered mine too even though I had done nothing wrong.

"But before I state my problem, let me ask you guys this: Do you think you're well paid? Do I take care of you all right?"

All heads came up and voices could be heard from all of them saying yes.

"Then here's the deal. As long as I'm the one signing the checks, I get to say what gets done and by whom. You get scheduled breaks, and more than what's warranted by law. I think I give a good wage for the type of work I ask you to do. If you have any grievances, I need to hear them now. There's no secrets here. You can speak up. we're like family here."

He looked around the room and as his eyes would meet one of theirs they would bow their head.

He continued. "Look you guys, you know I'm not a hard ass. But there are some things that just drive me nuts. And today I saw one of those things. I saw all of you, except Sally, out there screwing around on MY time. Now if I was one of those bosses that drove you into the ground that would be another story. If I was disrespectful to you in any way, you could feel justified in doing that I suppose. But I'm going to tell you the same exact way I heard it in my very first job working for my father.

"This is the law: I always want to see you doing something if I'm the one paying you. I don't even particularly care if you happen to be doing it wrong. Mistakes can be fixed. What I care about is that you are idle. No idle hands here. That is not going to happen. Even if there's no one to ask, just keep doing your job until you can find out. But don't ever let me walk in and find you doing nothing again when it's not your break time. Do SOMEthing... even if it's wrong. Got it?"

I looked around and the guys were all standing there wallowing in guilt. Inside I knew I was as guilty as they were. I just happened to be using the wrong tool at the time or I would have been out there with them.

Jim walked over to the newest guy, Brian. He put his arm around his shoulder.

"You going to drink that coffee or you going to let it get cold?" he asked with a big smile on his face. The relief could be felt for miles, I swear. It was a matter of respect for Jim. Fair wages for a fair job that came with fair treatment. A short speech and no resentment. End of lecture.

I never forgot that lesson. I needed to get back to my work. Because after all Jim said, "Do SOMEthing... even if it's wrong." I had spent enough time reminiscing.

The Sum Total

Have you ever adopted an idea as your own only to find out much later that it was lacking a key ingredient to make it fact? Yeah, me too.

I've spent the major portion of my umpty-ump years believing that I am the sum total of all my experiences. It's no wonder I had a glum outlook on my life and my position in it, not to mention that the future was severely discolored.

I love one-liners. They drive the point home for me more times than not. They're kind of a no fuss, no muss way to look at things too. But somehow, some of them didn't fit the scenario that I was a product of my past.

Certainly I could understand that some experiences mold a person, change them, even traumatize them. But how then could I explain the vigor and inspiration that would come even after a particularly horrible experience? Sour experiences do not a positive future make. Why then could I charge through these periods only to come out on the other side believing that 'next time, things would be different'?

Was it pure folly? Was it, as some friends told me, neurotic? Could it be simple insanity? I was baffled.

In the grand scheme of things that I label as my life, I began to delve into areas I had previously avoided at all costs. And very recently in that path I discovered the key element I alluded to earlier. All those one-liners began to make perfect sense now.

'If nothing changes, nothing changes.'
'If you always do what you've always done, you will always get what you always got.'
'Neurosis is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.'
'You don't have to change much... just everything.'
'A person can change anything, little by slow.'

What I failed to realize as I was trying to maneuver myself as a square peg into some God-awful round hole was that I was always facing backwards. If I focused on the past I was bound to repeat it over and over. But how then could I account for the hope I felt when I would venture into something new?

That was the unknown key. It was the one factor I never really looked at before.

I am not merely a product of my past experiences. Of course I have been molded and changed forever by some of them. They weren't all bad. Life has a way of pruning our character and weeding out the bad habits. If you are too stubborn you can find yourself in one compromising position after another. If you are really lucky you can glean all manner of things from the past.

Another of my favorite sayings is "Don't take yourself too seriously. It's comparable to life and we all know that no one gets out alive!" That was a big problem for me. Life was this serious thing to be dealt with in a most serious way. It didn't allow for mistakes or do-overs. And fun? What was that after all?

But hope... that unknown factor. That made everything clear. I was the sum total of all my experiences... plus... the hope that in the future there would be better days to follow. Without that hope I could not have withstood the pain of many of my experiences. The hope was the fuel to persevere and keep going forward. Life was an adventure, if only I let it be so.

There are still a few pieces of the pie that don't seem to fit. And God knows there are several missing too. But that pie? It's perfect just the way it is... much like me. Each and every day I just strive for progress, not perfection. Now isn't that a nice tidy sum?