A blog for all those who are afraid: to try new things, to face scary situations, to admit failure, to pursue success, to meet new people, etc, and etc, and etc....
Jesus
said to her, I am [Myself] the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever
believes in (adheres to, trusts in, and relies on) Me, although he
may die, yet he shall live;And
whoever continues to live and believes in (has faith in, cleaves to,
and relies on) Me shall never [actually] die at all. Do you believe
this?She
said to Him, Yes, Lord, I have believed [I do believe] that You are
the Christ (the Messiah, the Anointed One), the Son of God, [even He]
Who was to come into the world. [It is for Your coming that the world
has waited.]
May you sense the
abundant presence of your Creator God and his Son even in the
midst of your fraidy cat world. The blessings of Easter upon you and
all those whom you hold dear.
Courtesy and in Loving Memory of Christina Jones Hooker
You
know it had to happen. I just as good as told you so. One of the
reasons I choked at the idea of this series came to fruition right on
cue. Were you waiting for it?
“Mostly,
I was afraid I'd shoot my mouth off one night to wake up the next
morning and find out my kid had publicly humiliated me for life. In technicolor.”
I
woke up this morning breathing a little easier, feeling pretty good
(but not smug) about what I'd written last night. Maybe there was
even a glimmer of hope that I might get thru unscathed at least till
the weekend? Yea. Uh-huh. Right. I did until just after lunch time.
I
arrived to pick up Son #2 from art class only to catch a glimpse of
the teacher's face. I hasten to add that, for folks who do not have a
similarly situated immediate family member, coping with an Aspie can
be a little daunting. It can be acutely so if the Aspie is a little
on edge because life has been on the edge the last few weeks or so.
You are beginning to see what's coming, aren't you? My technicolor
humiliation.
Courtesy M. Horrocks
My
son had not been running with scissors, but he and a friend had tried
to occupy the same spot at the same time. His friend ended up with a
layer of skin scraped off his elbow. It looked like the granddaddy of
all friction burns only a little deeper. Not that big. No stitches or
butterfly bandage required. Just lots of mea culpa's and worries
about infection until the wound closes over.
My
sweet friend and her son were calm, collected, and conciliatory. Son
#2 was awkward in communicating his ownership of the situation and
failed to satisfy the teacher when he did so. The teacher's drama
background failed to serve her well in concealing what appeared to be
exasperation.
All
I could think was, “This will never end. There is always going to
be something for my courageous Aspie fellas that defines them as
'different'. I should NEVER have written that blog post last night.
Who am I to be writing about parenting or faith or anything else for
that matter.”
*Be
prepared to be humble and to set a humble example for your children.
Be prepared to do so ad nauseum.
I
might not be an expert on much, but I'm in the ball park on that one,
let me tell ya. If you think about it, that principle stems directly
from Phillipians 2: 3 (ESV) – Do
nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more
significant than yourselves. You
can add in a dash of Proverbs 15: 1 (ESV) – A
soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.
A
few years ago,a neighbor kid unloaded an Airsoft gun at dogs on the
other side of our fence. Neither of our sons owned one of those
'toys', but I knew the neighbor had been over to play that day. So,
when the dogs' owner came over with a Ziploc bag of the bb
ammunition, the neighbor, whom I had not met before, didn't have to
tell me anything.
I
looked at him and said, “You don't have to say a word. Give us a
few minutes. My son will write a note of apology. My husband will
bring him over to deliver it.” The young man who owned and shot the
gun was NEVER compelled to apologize for his actions. We wanted our
son to understand that if he was at the 'scene of the crime and did
nothing to intervene' it is called 'guilt by association'.
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
My
3 testosterone units will tell you, that I abhor car horns. They are
used way too often these days to get your attention so that a
frustrated driver can indict you for your vehicular sins. Many a road
rage accident starts with a horn. My crew will tell you that my
reaction to erratic driving is almost always: “That may be an older
person or a newcomer who is disoriented and needs to get their
bearings. It might be a young mom distracted by a sick, crying child.
More frighteningly, it might be someone under the influence of a drug
or alcohol. Do not blow the horn unless we are in imminent danger.”
In
these examples, I hope to teach my sons what it means to live out the
verses from Phillipians and Proverbs. You only have to read the
paper to realize that less and less attention is given to teaching
our kids about humility or putting the needs and welfare of others
before their own. By contrast, we spend too much time worrying about
the stability of their self-esteem without realizing that in caring
for others, we learn to esteem ourselves in proper proportion.
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
Slowly,
slowly we stir the pot of parenthood. Parenting requires sacrificial
time beyond caring for the minimal basic needs and then running
scatteratically from one event to the other. Punt some of the urgent
stuff in favor of the important down time a family needs to allow
deep and true connections. Take that freed up time to teach your
children how their value stems from the Creator who designed them
with a unique purpose in mind. Teach them to say what they mean and
keep their word. Teach them to honor the boundaries and property of
others. Demonstrate grace and humility in the midst of embarrassment
when life hands you moments of technicolor humiliation.
Well,
after today's fiasco, I'm sure you are dying to come back tomorrow to
see what kind of crow I get to eat then, aren't you? ;-) Come on
back, fraidy cat. Bring a friend. It's gonna take a village to get me
thru this, and I'm looking at YOU when I say that!
Courtesy B. Creasy
Missed part of this series? Catch up with these links:
*Expect
parenting to take time: actual time vs quality time.
Yes,
quality time is a great thing. There are going to be moments,
however, when life must stop revolving like a tilt-a-whirl. Your
child needs your undivided attention. It is going to take a while.
Stay till you know you are done however long it takes. Miss soccer, dance, or sleep. Be fully present. If you
aren't, someone else is waiting to do so, and you won't like the
result.
In
this bullet point kinda world, magazine editors require 500 word
articles with sidebars in case someone is too busy to read an
article. They want 10 hints for this problem and 5 shortcuts to that
solution because we can't catch up with the life we are living now
much less slow down and absorb the world around us.
We
barely stop to make eye contact as we throw backpacks in the car
while rushing to the next commitment. While it is all worthy 'stuff',
not one thing is as worthy as you knowing the midnight cry of your child's
heart when all the barricades
come down and the truth comes out. Take that to the bank.
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
Owing
to homeschooing, my sons have had the freedom to slip down at
midnight to talk. For some reason, the teen brain seems most willing
to share what has stayed bottled up inside at that late hour. Almost
always, I was ready to scream, “LET ME SLEEP!!!” before they were
through. In the end, I knew I had created an encouraging atmosphere
that would entice them to come back again. They do even now that Son
#1 is no longer a teen.
*Teach
your children that they have value that is based on an eternal,
unchanging, creator God who designed them with a unique purpose in
mind.
No,
I don't mean stroke them every possible way you can to foster their
sense of self-worth. Self-worth for its own sake is a hollow concept
that fails to deliver the hoped for result. You don't think so? We
have a generation of kids who have been coddled, stroked, and reassured
on self-worth. Where has it gotten us? It has gotten us a generation
of entitled kids who don't know the value of life, work, morals,
respect, or empathy.
1993
Perhaps
the 2nd defining moment of my parenting journey occurred
when my little blonde tornado heard me sigh, looked up and said, “Oh,
Mamma? Am I sick?” In that instant, I KNEW beyond a shadow of a
doubt that the next thing I said could chart the course of his life
for success or defeat.
So,
when I took a deep breath and said, “No, honey. You are not sick.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made,” I said it with the kind of
assurance that a 7YO would never doubt. Even tho' I was unsure of the
future, I knew God's word said we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
My son could take that promise to the bank.
Over
the years, I have driven that point home as often as needed. You
are fearfully and wonderfully made. You have a divine purpose that
God put into place when he threw the stars in space. You have value
because he created you with a purpose that only you can fulfill in
this world. Only you. Those words instill confidence, vision, hope,
and many other things that secular self-worth 'doctrine' fails to
inspire.
Courtesy A. Squires
*Teach
the lost art of honoring your word, keeping your promises, and
respecting others.
We
love a curriculum by Richard Maybury composed of a series of “Uncle
Eric” books. One of the first ones we cover is Whatever Happened
to Justice? In this slender
volume, Maybury asserts that there are 2 fundamental laws upon which
all major religions and philosophies agree (p. 35):
Do
all you have agreed to do.
Do
not encroach on other persons or their property.
Oh
my! As I watched news footage of the aftermath of the Kentucky
Wildcats' basketball victories this last week, it took about 2
seconds to realize that no one had taught that unruly crowd Rule #2.
Nor had anyone told them much about the Golden Rule of the Bible: “Do
unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (Matthew 7: 12)
Do you see how principle #1 flows into principle #2
which flows into #3. Do you? A child whose parents pour real time
effort into his/her life no doubt finds it easy to believe that he or
she has a wonderful purpose in the world. If you believe you have a
higher calling, you do not live to a lower common denominator of the
out of control crowd that thinks anarchy is fun. You will honor your
word, promises, and others.
Courtesy B. Creasy
Well,
my fraidy cat friend, we live in a fraidy cat world. If you know a
parent, particularly a young parent who needs a place to call home,
tell them to drop by? Bring them with you to sit a spell? I love you
long and strong. All fraidy cats are welcome here!
I've
had to think long and hard about this endeavor. Way back in January
when I decided to pick my way across this minefield, I was afraid. I
was afraid I'd set myself up as someone who'd stopped preachin' and
gone to meddlin' or stopped meddlin' and gone to preachin'. You pick
the one that offends you most. Mostly, I was afraid I'd shoot my
mouth off one night to wake up the next morning and find out my kid
had publicly humiliated me for life. In technicolor.
You
know us 'Christians'. I know you do because you talk about us and our
hypocrisy from time to time. If you aren't talking about us, we are
talking about each other, I'm afraid. Wanna know a secret about us
we'd rather die than admit? Come on, you know you do.
I
am painfully aware that many of us (sadly me included) like to
expound on reality like we have it all under control. After we give
you all our advice and convince you that we have 'mad' parenting
skills, we pray to God you don't figure out we are running like
scared rabbits. We are running from the truth behind our own closed
doors. If you ever catch up with us, you might find out what we know.
It is so much easier for us to tell you how to live your life and fix
your problems than it is for us to stay home and attend to our own
disasters. Can I get an A-men?
2011
Before
I take one more step on this fearsome journey in the exploration of
parenting, let me reassure you of what I said in Pt. 2. I am not a
paragon of perfect parenting. I am not raising perfect sons. I don't
have all the answers. I'm gonna be brave and share some things I've
learned this last 21 years. That's all.
Parenting
is a living organism. It changes as both you and your kids mature.
What works today might be totally ineffective tomorrow and
vice-versa. What works for me might never work for you because I'm
not raising your kids. That principle keeps the book publishers busy
producing the parenting method-of-the-month book club. We can drive
ourselves crazy searching for a parenting solution the same way we
look for a diet that works.
Before
I was even a parent, I had a watershed moment. A lady I knew, and
didn't care much for, made a comment that stuck with me forever. “God
is Sovereign over your mistakes as a parent. Trust him to fulfill his
plan for your children. Dedicate yourself to growing in your
relationship with him, and ask him to lead you as you parent. If you
stay true to that plan, you can trust him to use your mistakes for
his plan.” Welcome to my world!
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
I
remind myself of that reassuring bit of advice every single time I am
afraid of a making a parenting mistake. It comes in handy when I'm
afraid I did the best I could but still fell short. It keeps me from
hyperventilating when I know I made the wrong decision. You know what
else it does? It enables me to look my sons dead in the eye and say,
“I'm sorry. I blew it.” 'I'm sorry' covers a multitude of sins
with our kids when they see us fail and then set about to avoid the
same mistake again.
When
I left you hanging with Pt. 2 in January, we were in the midst of a
lifestyle overhaul. You know how my life is if you've read much of
our story. The one thing we can plan on is crisis. We've endured yet
another one this last 2 months. Not so bad as some, but enough to
derail my writing for a few weeks. Did you miss me as much as I
missed you?
Besides
wrecking my blog stats because I wasn't writing, the crisis also
derailed the momentum I was working up to get my house in order. I
stayed at it tho'. If I've learned one thing this last year, baby
steps are what get you where you are going. So, I've kept on taking
baby steps even when what I wanted to do was pole vault into a new,
uncluttered, crisis-free life.
Courtesy M. Horrocks
Truth
is: life ain't complete till it is over. Life is about the journey
and how we navigate it between here and where we are going. What we
all need on this parenting journey is the reassurance that we don't
walk through it alone. It is not enough to know that we have good
friends to depend upon in good times and bad. Sooner or later, even
the best of friends will be insufficient.
While
it may be true that we need help from our 'village' to raise good and
decent children, what we really cannot live without is grace.
Specifically, we need to know that we can fall back on the grace of
an all-sufficient creator God who loves both us and our children in
the best of times and the worst of times.
If
we start from that foundation, we can weep with our village when a
child falters instead of sitting on our judgmental thrones as if we,
and our own children, are bullet proof. We will restore each other
tenderly by caring for each other's wounds because we know ours might
be the next wounds that need binding.
Courtesy B. Creasy
Oh,
fraidy cat, have you blown it? Well, you are in GOOD company
here with me in this little corner of cyberspace. I'm so glad you
came in from the cold. If you know another parent whose life is
falling apart, whose child is struggling, or who is unsure of what
decision to make when, bring them back tomorrow? Ok? Love you long
and strong. See you again soon!
I
just found out that, in Facebook speak, 'smh' means 'shaking my
head'. Well, picture me SMH!!! Did you see? Did you see what I saw?
If you didn't, lookey right here:
It
seems that right after Kentucky WON the game against Louisville,
earning a slot in the venerated last round of the March Madness
tournament, the fans did just that. Went mad. There's video to prove
it. Given that this insanity was their idea of celebrating, Lord help
us all when they lose! If I didn't know any better, I'd think I'd been punked by an April Fool's joke.
If
recent news is any indication, this group of criminal fans is not
alone. College (and Pro) sports celebrations increasingly involve
anarchy and destruction of property. Despite earnest efforts of local
law enforcement, this undisciplined group of young adults continued
about their business as if anarchy was business as usual.
I
wonder how much the property owners feel like celebrating today as
they file insurance claims and deal with the loss of transportation
because their cars were torched? I wonder how the tax payers in that
area feel about the cost of extra man power required to break up this
little party? I wonder how the innocent citizens who got caught up in
this nonsense felt? I wonder how the moms and dads of these kids feel
if they see their kids caught on video in the thick of things? I know I'd be proud!
Call
me old fashioned. Call me weird. But, as Facebook would also say –
IMHO, the time has come for parents (even of 21+ year olds) to act
like parents again. Maybe we could start with a little demonstration
of parental guidance via the Kentucky Wildcats booster club and the
NCAA hierarchy. How 'bout you LEADERS and FINANCIERS of college sports
banding together to set an example that will last a generation? Do
your part to bring this kind of nonsense to an end! Stop it now
before it gets anymore out of hand.
Ask
me how? I dare you. Since you won't ask, I'll tell you. I suggest you
STRIP Kentucky of the right to advance to the final round. Require a
FORFEIT for the egregious criminal behavior of their fans. Send
Louisville. REWARD those students for honoring their team with a
celebration that was both orderly and law abiding. I'd bet good money
that no future school/fans would take a chance of robbing their team
of an important goal like a championship. Don't you think it is worth
a try?
I'm thinking it would take ONE bold move on the part
of the boosters and the NCAA to stop this nonsense cold. I suggest
they exhibit that kind of leadership now even if it hurts the revenue
machine that has become college sports. Here's a clue: natural
consequences DO hurt. They HURT in real life, and they COST you
something. Maybe it's time to teach that lesson via the artificial
world of college athletics.
You
see, right here in my little state, two athletes from much smaller
schools have just been arrested for the rape of three co-eds at a
neighboring school. While that case is yet to be tried, the number of
such inexcusable stories regarding college sports grows by the year.
Within the last few months, other athletes here in my state have been
arrested for breaking and entering. They are in bad company given the
news surrounding the New Orleans Saints' practice of bounty for
injuries. Whatever happened to sportsmanship among players and fans?
One
would construe that these criminals aka 'students' here in my state are attending on
some combination of athletic scholarships. It is no wonder, fans
behave in unruly, destructive, undisciplined, illegal ways given the
role models you are providing in the name of the sports revenue
machines.
I'm
not a parent of any of these kids, but these scenes make me sick to
my stomach. I don't have a dog in the NCAA Final Four fight. I didn't
even fill out a bracket. I do care about teaching civility to a
nation of young adults who have increasingly lost their moral compass
and individual dignity. I'm sick and tired of watching scenes like
these play out over and over again with barely a flicker of concern
past a yawn during a 24 hour news cycle.
It's
time for someone to take a stand and exhibit some leadership. How
'bout YOU, NCAA and Kentucky Wildcat boosters? Don't blame it on a
'small group of drunken idiots' and wash your hands of what you could
do on behalf of law abiding fans everywhere. The crowd around them
CHEERED them ON and resisted law enforcement efforts.
It's time to
set a precedent. Set one that will result in the next group of fans encouraging the
'drunken idiots' to accept a ride home lest their team be denied a
championship because of riotous, criminal behavior.
Dear
NCAA, one of us is crazy. Don't bother sending me a memo. I know.
It's me. I'm the April fool.
I
steeled myself as she asked the question I had known was coming. It
was normal, new doctor-patient chit-chat. No matter how many times
I'd heard it before, I still dreaded it. I was caught in the great
societal divide and about to be outed. I wasn't just a stay-at-home
mom; I was a HOMESCHOOLING stay-at-home mom. I waited for the
inevitable, almost imperceptible, arch of the eyebrow. The one that
said, “Oh. You are one of THEM.”
Sometimes I'd make a
joke of it. “Ha-ha! My husband pays me to stay home.” Other
times, I'd simply mutter, “I'm a stay at home mom. We homeschool,”
and try not to recoil as I waited for a hiss of incredulity. This day
I fought the urge to roll my eyes in disgust for her. “I don't have
a job. I'm just a stay-at-home mom who homeschools this fella and his
older brother.”
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
Yep,
there it was. The look. But, maybe no? Her gaze was impassive and
matter of fact. She was ready to move along to the meat of our visit
without further judgmental ado. In the nano-second that I began to
let out a sigh of almost relief, a little voice piped up from the
floor where his blonde head overshadowed a pile of Lego’s.
To
our surprise, he surfaced from the Legoland he had created on the
floor of the exam room long enough to set me straight. “Oh, Mommy!
That's not true. You DO have a job. Why - you are a WRITER!” He
looked at the doctor. “My mom does too have a job. She's a
WRITER!” He failed to hide his indignation.
My
involuntary, nervous laugh bubbled up and out. Silly kid. He had to
pick that moment to be listening to what was going on around him. I
looked up, afraid to make eye contact and sure I was a goner.
Stay-at-home mom. Homeschooler. Writer. I wanted to run and hide
rather than stay and prove my worth given the three labels now
stamped across my forehead.
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
Though
the room was windowless, it was as if rays of sunlight illuminated
her face. Her smile spread wide across what had been the proper
professional distance between us. She rolled her three-legged stool
closer as words began to tumble out in rapid fire succession. “Why,
you are a writer? What do you write? Do you write books?”
I may
as well have been a snake a-waiting the music of my charmer so
captivated was I. The lilt of her Indian accent transfixed me as the
bond between us locked tight and sure. I tried not to stutter and
stammer as I admitted that I had written a few articles for a
regional magazine as well as an essay for a book published several
years ago. Yes, I was even working on a book. Her smile grew so
bright that the overhead light seemed to fizzle out altogether.
“You
know, I do not read enough. I'm so busy. Can you give me a list of
books? Books that are fun but would give me a window into the culture
here?” I got lost in the lyrical cadence of her speech as her world
became enmeshed in mine. She, a doctor for Pete's sake, wanted MY
opinion and was excited by the idea that I was a writer. What's not
to love? Before I left, I tucked my list of book recommendations into
her hand.
Son #2 with Poppy - 2011
I've
lost track of the years. Three, maybe four? This week, Son #2 towered
above her as she entered the exam room. “I don't think I've met
this son,” puzzlement filled her voice because she knew us so well.
How could there be one of us she didn't know?
I laughed. “Oh,
you do know this one. This is Son #2, the one that told you I was a
writer.” Her head snapped up from the chart she was examining, and
her laughter filled the room. The warmth of her smile embraced us in
that now familiar cocoon of belonging.
“Oh, MY! Look at
you. You've grown so tall. It is you. You know,” she turned to look
at me. “I'm so glad you are here today. I was so afraid I was going
to have to call you. I'm moving. I'm not supposed to be here tonight.
Last night was my last shift, but I'm filling in for another doctor.
I could not imagine leaving without saying goodbye. I thought I would
not see you again. Now, here you are.”
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
That
peculiar kind of ache began to spread across her space in my heart.
She would always fill that spot, but it would never feel completely
full again because life was carrying her away to new and wonderful
places and people. I tried to be brave, but I wanted to cry.
In
the not so distant past when I had not believed in me, she had. She
could have brushed aside my young son's indignation and rushed
through her duties that night of our first meeting. Instead, she
became one of my champions. She cared for my family as a competent
medical professional, but she was a champion of my soul.
She
wrapped up that final medical exam, and we said our goodbyes filled
with bittersweet sadness and hope. She accepted my business card with
a hearty promise to stay in touch. “I will hear about you,” she
said in the way that only she could say it. “You are going places.
I know that. I do.”
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
I
close my eyes now on the eve of her departure knowing I have seen her
for the final time. I replay the meetings over the years. I see her
brow wrinkled with concern on the sickest of our days. I see her eyes
twinkle with excitement as she anticipated a new and bright, but
different, future.
“I
don't know what you call this, but the way it has happened has been
so strange. I've gotten to say goodbye to all the ones that were
special to me. You were the last. I was so afraid and then, there you
were! You were here. I am so glad.”
A
single tear slips down my cheek. Knowing how life carries us along, I
know that she most probably will not keep in touch. The odds are that
I will never be famous nor go places. Another tear slips down my
cheek. From where I sit tonight, I'm ok with these truths. I am ok
because in a moment in time when it mattered more than she knew, she
believed in me. How do you repay a gift like that?
Coutesy B. Creasy
Ephesians 2:10 (NIV) For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 4:1 (NIV) As a prisoner of the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the call you have received.
A
foggy drizzle shrouded the little yellow house in an air of forlorn
resignation. Traffic whizzed by. Tires spit ponded water up and over
the curbs evoking images of elementary school boys pitted against
each other in a mischievous contest. Cars stopped and started as the
three-eyed robot changed green, yellow, and red over and over and over.
Everyone
was in a hurry to somewhere else. The planet hurtled on into the
future. No one seemed to notice the past slipping away. Behind the
modest little house, a new structure rose into the rain. Its open,
hulking framework already overshadowed the more humble dwelling
below. Such is the nature of progress: newer, bigger, better.
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
The
swishing of tires mingled with the echoes of time. Memories long ago
buried under decades of the newer, bigger, and better began to dance
into the here and now. His newly minted post-pubescent voice was
startling as he prodded me to move with the traffic flow. We too had
places to go and things to do.
He
sighed an old man's weary sigh. “It doesn't seem fair . . . no
one will know how truly wonderful she was. There has to be a way for
us to see to it that she is never forgotten. More than just what we
write on her headstone. I don't say a lot about her. She's gone. I
can't change that. I don't even feel sad a lot. I guess that's the
way Aspies are. Today, I'm sad. I miss her. I don't want her to be
forgotten.”
By
then, we were blocks and blocks away from the little yellow house
that is really a dental office. Yet, as he spoke, the vision of the
new office overtaking the old swam before my eyes. “Tell me more.”
I almost whispered lest his spell be broken.
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
“No
one will ever know how much she encouraged me. I didn't spend enough
time with her, and I think maybe I was mean a lot of the time when I
did. I don't know why I acted like that. I know I've changed, but I'm
sorry she doesn't know it. Every time I saw her, she encouraged me to
act better, to study harder, to love Jesus with my whole heart. She
always prayed with me. All she ever did was encourage me. She never
knew how much she did.”
His
pent up emotions seemed to surprise him. The foggy drizzle of his
grief surrounded us both and swept us away. I reached across the van
and clasped his hand. “Oh, she knew. She knew. When you would run giggling
to the car while yelling, 'Hurry! Let's RUN before Woodruff catches us!'
she knew. It was your special game, and it always ended with her
getting one more squeeze.” We began to laugh even as tears
threatened like rain.
I
led him gently down the path of grief even tho' I, myself, have yet
to grope and pick may way across the same terrain. "As you grow
into the fine young man you are becoming, everyone who knows you will
know about her. They will see her in you. When asked why you are who
you are, you will have the opportunity to tell them about her impact
on you. I guess you need to be mindful, as you continue to become a
man, what you want her legacy to be. You are her living legacy. She
will not be forgotten because she lives on in you and your brother.”
Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative
The
little yellow house cum dental office sat in the rain awaiting the
not too distant day when heavy equipment will scoop it up and away. A
parking lot will erase all but whispers on the wind. New patients
will come and go as younger dentists continue on where their mentor
laid a foundation.
In
a decade or so, no one will remember the modest yellow office that
sat shaded by old oak trees who stood guard as children became
parents with children of their own. Even before the old building is
gone and the new one has begun to fulfill its purpose, the never
ending process of life has begun all over again. Past, present, and
future entwine like drizzle in the wind.
I
saw the future coming but could not imagine how quickly it would
arrive. Baby Boomers around me are graying, and their steps are no
longer as buoyant or triumphant as they were only a decade ago. We
begin to face our own mortality and wonder when immortality betrayed
us.
2011
The
face in the mirror stares back as we begin to take stock of victories
won and battles still raging. More than a few wonder why we
ran so hard to lay hold of something we could not catch when what we
had was all we ever needed. No
matter what the questions echoing back from the mirror of our
souls, we realize now that life boils down to one small question:
When I am gone, will you remember me?
What
has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there
is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”? It was here already, long ago; it
was here before our time. No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow
them.
These
people all died controlled and sustained by their faith, but not
having received the tangible fulfillment of [God's] promises, only
having seen it and greeted it from a great distance by faith, and all
the while acknowledging and confessing that they were strangers and
temporary residents and exiles upon the earth. Now
those people who talk as they did show plainly that they are in
search of a fatherland (their own country). If they had been thinking
with [homesick] remembrance of that country from which they were
emigrants, they would have found constant opportunity to return to
it. But the truth is that they were yearning for and aspiring to a
better and more desirable country, that is, a heavenly [one]. For
that reason God is not ashamed to be called their God [even to be
surnamed their God--the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob], for He has
prepared a city for them.
