The wisdom to know the difference

"I'm not like you," she said.  "My memories are all bad".

I thought about it for a while. 

Are my memories all good?

Hum.  I remembered that when my first husband and I were going to get a divorce I could only remember the GOOD memories.  That made it more painful.  I was grieving what was good and I forgot that there had, of course, been some bad.

Strange as this may seem, I prayed and asked God to help me remember the bad and when I did..."oh help"...what a time I experienced.  Not pretty.

But by and by the memories leveled out.  Things that I remembered in a bad light became the springboard for me to change something.  Somehow through that process as well as many other times of reacting and transitioning into a different phase in my life I learned to see the good in bad situations.

Early in the "losing my husband" through divorce stage a friend gave me the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, another friend gave me How to Survive the Loss of a Love and someone else shared For Those Who Hurt.  All three of those books have remained a part of my library - now for more than 33 years.

Those books plus lots of prayer and support have been helpful - more than once in my life.  The words and actions of my friends have been a comfort.  The love and involvement in the lives of my children by family were paramount in the Christ-honoring  lives that I see them living today.

I needed the serenity to accept the loss of one husband to divorce and another to death.  I could not change the circumstances.  I needed the serenity to accept the fact that I had made many mistakes in both cases and I could not go back and re-do what I had done.  I needed to be forgiven and I needed to forgive myself.

So yes I have some bad memories.  Am I being a Pollyanna?  Worse than that - Am I being dishonest? 

Well actually what I am doing is practicing what my mother said her mother taught her "You don't have to put all your dirty laundry on the line."

Just know that what I try to practice is having the wisdom to know the difference!

To change the things I can....

It's all about courage.

That's something the lion in the Wizard of Oz and I have in common.  I probably have more than he had but there are some areas where I have very little.

Like the dance floor.

I like to dance.  I wish I were a better dancer.  I have a little rhythm - I think.  But what's the deal?

It's the memories.

It was against our religion to dance when I was growing up.  The sixth grade graduation party, a pretty dress, and me standing against the wall.  The time someone I had a crush on asked me to dance and I didn't know where my arms were supposed to be.  The fact that I was always clumsy.  Or that I never learned.

My friend, Deborah absolutely loves to dance.  In fact to quote her: "It's as if you opened my head and poured a bucket of happiness into my being".  So it's fun to go with her and watch her be happy - as I sit and sip and listen as the music beckons - sort of like those old  Calgon commercials.  Sometimes people appear to be taken away.

And so it was on a recent Sunday afternoon when I went with Deb to a dance - her on the dance floor and me watching all the dancers...

The band was playing a Polka...

And it all began to come back - I remembered my cousin, Rick's wedding to Cheryl now more than 30 years ago.  The reception was in a huge hall - and everyone was dancing -- their dance of choice - the Polka. Someone asked me to dance - so I did.

My question to my brothers - did I look silly? was answered only as brothers can - "Well....yeah".

The issue was crystal clear.  It's all those memories.

Earlier that day a friend recalled the angst she still feels because her parents did not have a good relationship.  That afternoon I remembered her words - "But you know I am 63 years old and it's time for me to let that go".

Let that go - - -change what I can - - - HUM.

So the next time a gentleman asked - I said sure - and was swept onto the dance floor.  And then there was another...and as we left the party I said to Deborah - When's the next time we are going to do this?

I just need to have the courage to change.

Things we cannot change

You know the words well - God grant me the serenity to accept the things we cannot change...

Sometimes we make a decision and then have the option to change our minds.  That's a good thing. Sometimes we make a change in our lives - that we don't like - or that seems to have been a bad decision.

I was chatting with a couple of mothers whose children are under 6.  One of them showed me a photo of a darling little girl whose long curls, the ones I had admired just a few days before, were missing.

It reminded me of the day that Becca, aged 6, brought me a handful of her hair and said "Mommy, can you glue this back?"

I'm sure that at that time I needed serenity.

"No, but it will grow back" and if you have seen my first born you know that it did.

But then there are some things that we just cannot change.  One of those things would be our words - spoken in anger, disgust, sometimes in fear.

At the Florida versus East Carolina University football game this past Saturday, no doubt there was anger, disgust and maybe even a little fear.

This was supposed to be a cake walk for the Gators - and it was not.   There was disgust, anger and maybe a little fear.  Former Gator "great" Fred Taylor said his son, Kelvin, the one who was the object of Florida coach, Jim McElwain's wrath following an unsportsmanlike penalty, was angry that he wasn't getting enough playing time.  That didn't make it right.  McElwain is sorry that he was so disgusted and all of Florida nation at that time was surely fearful that the game was about to go the other way..and God forbid, we would lose.

Words - we can't take them back.

And in this case, a media frenzy ensued.

Fortunately no one really cares about some words I wish I hadn't spoken.

As I was going through the grief process after my daddy died in 2009, I thought back to many of the words we shared.  Once he told me that he didn't like my hair - and I thought - do I wear my hair for you, daddy?  And I was irritated that he thought I did.  As I was missing him, I thought why in the world did I let that bother me?

Another time when I didn't like the fact that my house smelled like bacon when I came home and showed my distaste he got after me for having what he "loved to call " a short fuse.  And I shook my finger in his face and said something like "Daddy, you have got to stop saying that to me".

Six years down the pike, I think back to those words and feel pretty yukky.

I suspect Jim McElwain felt pretty yukky after the game when his mother chided him for his actions at the football game.

There are some things we just cannot change - but if we practice thinking before we speak - at least we have a chance.  Oh yes - that's where the courage comes in.

Not pretty when you cry

"Don't call too often - just every day" - her words to me.

"Whatever you do, don't cry on the campus - you are not pretty when you cry" - my words to her.

And so it was as my parents took me to college - 50 years ago this week.

Who would have ever imagined that I would choose to go to college 50 miles north of Chattanooga, Tennessee?  If you knew me then - the girl my pastor described as quiet and reserved and a bit of a homebody -  you know that was a huge step.

However, it was the right step.  For before we even made it to the campus that Friday in September, 1965, there was this really cute guy in a cafeteria ...

And a friendship ensued and a marriage and three children and a divorce - but the friendship has remained and as I often unashamedly say "have you met my children?"

Interesting turn of events . . .

September, 2015

My mother (the her who I didn't want to cry on the campus) has moved to assisted living. 

At one point I thought - this was like sending one of my children to college - and then I thought no it's like when they went to kindergarten.  I wondered - would she remember to take her meds, would she like the food enough to eat it and would she make any friends?

Guess what - she's got that meds thing down, she eats and every time I visit there's a story about a new best friend.

It's as if her whole life led her to this experience.

I don't call her every day (I do usually send her an email or a Facebook message) and although she has shed a few tears at some point I have come to realize nothing keeps her from being pretty.
 
Going to college in Dayton, Tennessee was definitely the right thing for me.  In addition to meeting and marrying Ray Parker, there was a teacher whose words I credit with beginning another journey for me...

"Paula," Mr. Alan Winkler said "You are a gifted writer".

Hum. . .