A Show of Character

Your life is your message to the world. Make sure it’s inspiring.” – unknown

Twenty years ago I was climbing in Mexico when a guide told me a story about an exclusive Colorado ski resort that he worked at in the winter. The only way to get to the lodge was by sno-cat so they limited the clients to only one bag. On one trip, a customer had his bag and his guitar case and they politely reminded him it was only one bag. The guy had no problem accepting that policy and returned the guitar to his car. It was only later that they realized the guy was James Taylor!

That story is so much better than if they’d let him have the guitar! After all, I’m sure it would have been a wonderful concert but we wouldn’t have learned anything about James Taylor’s character. And it wouldn’t have reminded us that sometimes life doesn’t go our way – and then it becomes part of our story.

Happy Families

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” – Maya Angelou

My mom told me that one of her friends from her retirement community keeps asking her about my kids. He’s 98 years-old, never married and has no kids, and he asks repeatedly about how I conceived them as a single mom and what I tell them about their parentage. As she was telling me this, I thought “Given that they didn’t even invent invitro-fertilization until he was in his 60’s, I can’t imagine what he thinks.” But in this most recent conversation they had, he started telling her about the traumatic childhood he had — his father’s abuse of his sisters, his mother’s nervous breakdown when she discovered the abuse and his mother’s instruction to him to make sure he never left his younger sister alone with his dad. At the end of relating the story he simply said to my mom, “I would have been a lot better off without a dad.”

This makes me so sad. First of all because I had a great dad. Nothing about what I’ve done is a commentary on dads in general. It was simply a matter of not having the right one for my kids and running out of time.

Secondly because of the shame he still seems to carry. The answer to his question about what I tell my kids is that I tell them whatever they ask but I don’t complicate it with more than they want to know at the time. The first time my daughter asked she said, “Did I have a dad when I was born?” and I said “no” and then she followed up with “Did I have a dog when I was born?” and I thought “that’s where you’re going with this?” and answered “yes”. We’ve had more in-depth conversations since then about me going to the doctor to become pregnant and a little about sperm donors but she’s not all that interested yet. I have no way of knowing how she or her brother will come to feel about this (and it’ll probably be many things) but whatever it is, I will do my best to make sure it isn’t shame. My primary tool to combat that is not to have any secrets about their origins.

I’ve been thinking a lot about a Tolstoy quote I recently came across, “Happy families are all alike, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Given that Tolstoy lived long before invitro fertilization and also gay marriage, I’d say maybe in his time happy families were all alike. But they can look pretty different these days.

But I think Tolstoy was right that unhappy families have many possible reasons that can echo for a long time. I hope that we see my mom’s friend again soon and somewhere in the telling of his story and the grace of being interested in my happy children since he never had any of his own, he finds peace for his inner child.

Directly to the Heart

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou

We were driving in the car when my almost six-year-old daughter asked, “What do you do with a dog’s body when it dies?” I answered that you take it to the vet and they take care of it. She said, “You mean they burn it, put it into a little vase, and you can put it somewhere to come visit like with Bumpa [her grandfather]?”

Ha, ha – the beauty of directness! There is something to be said for that. And since I come from a family that specializes in subtlety, especially when expressing emotion, it’s something I need to work on. Just being able to say, “I’m mad” has a refreshing kind of direct ownership.

But I write this knowing a bunch of writers will read this and agree that being direct and telling a story are two different things. Knowing that my dog’s ashes are sitting in the cherry box on the mantel doesn’t begin to touch the story of being with him through his last moments as he bravely both let me know he was ready to go and licked my tears as I said good-bye to him, my amazingly beautiful, goofy and loyal companion of almost 14 years. Visiting my dad in the Memorial Garden has very little to do with his choice to be cremated and interned and everything to do with wanting to hear his sonorous voice say just once more time, “It’s going to be great, Kid!” It’s the stories I have so about both of these characters that celebrate the whole-hearted and loving way that they both lived and give all the reasons we miss them now.

So I’ll continue to tell stories as we have our time for deep talks in the car. After all, her questions lately have been about homelessness (like in this post), drugs, and now death. It seems big topics deserve a lot of human understanding that only stories can bring.