“People who wonder whether the glass is half full or half empty are missing the point.
The glass is refillable.” ~ Unknown
The last two days have been filled with music and food and a host of friends old and new. Today, Angie and I spent a long overdue whole day of quality time together. Our extended morning with coffee and bagels set the stage for a beautiful day capped by a gorgeous Oklahoma sunset. I don’t get sunsets like this in the Lexington suburb, which just makes it that much sweeter when I get to see one. The truth is that every sunset, no matter how much or little of you see of it, is a blessing. I love my people and I love Oklahoma sunsets.
“When you are generous, sometimes people will take advantage. You may be respectful and yet some people will still be unkind. You may be a good person, and some people will nonetheless still treat you terribly… How you treat others is really about who you choose to be in this life… That’s how the world changes — one brave person like you being kind.” ~ Bryant McGill
Our Shero is surrounded by her three boys after an action packed day. For the first time since her accident she was able to take our Hero to one of his appointments. It made them both happy, and it makes me happy that she was able to regain her independence. They’ve both still got a lot of appointments over the next six weeks, but things are getting better. I count four blessings on my couch.
“Compassion is not a matter of pity or the strong helping the weak; it’s a relationship between equals, one of mutual support….we come to realize that other people’s welfare is just as important as our own.
In helping them, we help ourselves. In helping ourselves, we help the world.”
~ Pema Chodron
When I awoke this morning something felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I surfed Facebook over coffee and saw a few exchanges that were tense for no reason I could tell. Even one of my BFFs was brittle over a simple photographic question. It was all just …off, for lack of a better word. I put it down to the oppressive heat. Then, I noticed it was Stanya Franklin Terrell’s birthday, and it dawned on me: Mamaw died five years ago today. Not being one to remember dates very well, anniversaries like this often go unnoticed by me unless something very obvious rattles my memory, like Stanya’s birthday. Even still, once I realized the significance of the date, it didn’t break my uneasy feeling. At precisely 3:33 (for you numerologists out there) I received a picture from mom. I wept. Sometime after a late breakfast, while he was out chasing some varmint or other, little Crackerjack was hit and killed by a car. Mom and dad’s neighbor found him beside the road. The perpetrator never bothered to stop. The photos above were taken Thursday when they were here visiting. Wally will miss his best friend. Dad already misses his best friend. I certainly share his grief, but dad’s prayer for CJ reveals such a deep level of compassion that it makes me exceedingly proud of him. What a great man my dad is. I’m eternally grateful for the friendship Crackerjack showed him, and the love he gave us all (dog is God spelled backwards, after all). Go with God, little feller.
“Never be ashamed of your tears. Be proud that you are still natural.
Be proud that you can express the inexpressible through your tears.” ~ Osho
When Angie and I visited with Rod and Diane Rickey a few weeks ago, Rod sent me out the door with a book he insisted I read; Jack London’s Call of the Wild. I’d heard of it of course, but knew nothing of the story. Diane quickly grabbed a copy of Viva Mexico, a short story Rod had written and she had published, and sent that out the door with me as well. Call of the Wild: It’s a story that will stick with me the rest of my life. Rod was right: it’s a must read. As soon as I set it down, I picked up Viva Mexico. It’s a short story about a real adventure Rod took with a friend when they were just teenagers to the Baja of Mexico in 1972. He didn’t write it to be published. He wrote it for his daughter, to give her a glimpse of what he was like as a young man daring to take a trip that today, in all likelihood, could not be taken because times have changed so much. I finished the story – a very well written story I might add – and thought what a lucky girl Rod’s daughter is to have a father who’s not only talented, but sensitive and caring enough to want to share his life and adventures with her. What woman wouldn’t want their father to put pen to paper for her? And what love Diane has for them both to go the extra mile and have that story so beautifully printed? What truly incredible people they both are, and how fortunate I am to have them in my life. They are gifts.