The Power of Words 2.011

My dad died 39 years ago today. He was 49.

When I wrote the words in a recent blog about what uniquely qualified me for a job being that I had lost a parent, it made me wonder what I would have been uniquely qualified for otherwise.

I look back with nostalgia on this blog from 2011 below. It was the first of many written in tribute to my dad prompted by another unwilling member of the lost parent club.

I have rewritten this post over the years, but there's something I liked about my voice at that time. It's confident, a little cocky. You'll see what I mean at the part where I'm talking about smelling the flowers. It's interesting considering the crash and burn cycles in the years that followed. But you know what they say about pride preceding a fall...

These were humble writing beginnings. Don't judge. I wrote a lot more back than when I hadn't endured another 8 years without laughter, the volume raised and content contributer to my inner critic and the awareness and weariness of being visible. All the wisdom still worked even if I had forgotten it at times between then and now.

The Power of Words...

There was a square of paper, covered with manually typed words found in my father's wallet after he died suddenly while playing racquetball. He had quit smoking after 30 years on that New Year of 1985 and began working out to prepare for his May wedding. He died 55 days before he was to wed his bride, poor gal, twenty years his junior. He was 49. Really though, she stole the show. Nothing says grief like a fiancée who has lost her beloved.

I remember thinking, even then at 15, as the majority of the people at the wake were there for her, “Wait a minute people! She can get another boyfriend, she can go on and have a full life. Yes with this loss sure...But, I will never have another father!"

I was wallowing, being selfish, that "what about me" thing. It is amazing how in the event of death, a new trajectory can be set for the people left behind. It changes their course. It can be for better or worse. Really it is not what happens to us, it is what we do with what's happened.

Anyway that was like, what...twenty six years ago, nevertheless these words were in a way, his final will for my life, that is how I took it... I have sought to abide by them, live up to them, and be worthy of having found them as part of my life's principles. Maybe you have seen some or all of this before... Here it is as it was typed in my dad's wallet.

What is success?

To laugh often and much

To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;

To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived,

This is to have succeeded.

Remember what you possess in the world

Will be found on the day of your death to belong to someone else

WHAT YOU ARE, WILL BE YOURS FOREVER!

The purpose of life is not to be happy,

It is to be useful

To be honorable; to be compassionate

To have it make some difference that you have lived

and lived well. Ralph Waldo Emerson

My fathers note attributes this solely to Emerson, but having researched it regarding authorship -that is true only in part. In fact the main body of the text was heavily influenced by a contest winning piece entered by woman named Bessie Stanley. There are lot's of people who have taken the time to research it thoroughly. I like to preface any thing I say or write with the disclaimer that I am certain somebody else said it before and better than me. There's nothing new under the sun. I am just sayin it now.

Anyway.

Can we take this verse by verse?

Let's do that.

To laugh often and much.

May I add, deeply. Laugh deeply...

You know, head thrown back, grab your stomach, I think I might pee kinda laughter. That there is the healing stuff. Deep laughter.

Sometimes when you are so depressed, all you can do is watch comedies to try laugh. Usually that doesn't work either, as I sit there criticizing the poor writing or bad acting, the timing being off. I am really quite the critic. Makes it hard to have fun sometimes. I think it might have been four years solid that I didn't laugh deeply. Those were not good years. Both of my parents had awesome laughs. I can still hear them.

If you are currently depressed, I promise you, rediscovering your sense of humor, will be a link in the chain that will pull you out of the pit. Find something - someone to laugh with. Laugh damn it! Laugh, at yourself, at your circumstances, at the pain & and at the joys.

Just laugh!

Deeply, loudly, heart-ily.

The world will just be a better place with more laughter.

To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...

Winning the affection of children was always easy for me, I think they sense I am one of them.I have won the respect of some intelligent people through their children. Years as a preschool and Sunday school teacher won me the hearts of their little ones. We should treat the people who care for our kids, teachers, babysitters, wives - with the utmost respect.

If you do not think they are deserving of respect, than don't leave your kids with them, that’s poor stewardship. You wouldn’t leave your car, the keys to your house, a valuable “thing” in the care of someone you didn’t think was trustworthy. If they are however, people who recognize their power of influence, and are doing their utmost for your child's good - you better treat them like royalty... It really does take a village. Thank God for people who understand that, and take their part of the village seriously. But with kids - all you need to do is show yourself to be nurturing and gentle, and they come.

Here is where I still struggle with this verse. It does not say to win, or that we should expect to win, the respect of all people. I have sought to win the respect of some very foolish people.

I never got it and wasted A LOT of years. Yep, still workin on this one.

On the other hand, I see how I have faked enough smart people into thinking I deserve their "respect". Frankly, I think I might throw this one out all together.

Sorry Ralph/Dad... I am really not interested in trying to win anyones respect anymore... You either do or you don't. If my full expression is something that another deems undeserving of their approval than, well, get over it, not everyone is gonna like you. Get used to it. Hmmmmph. Arms folded emphatically for effect... Struggle no more... Done with that shit. Here is how I would re -write this.

To win the respect of oneself by upholding self-imposed standards of dignity ...

Or something like that...Let's move on.

To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;

An honest critic is NOT, as my sister-in-law used to say, someone who "blows sunshine up your ass" saying what we want to hear. An honest critic is someone who cares enough to tell you

the truth and who is about seeing your ultimate success in character, manifest in conduct. We really don't have time to deal with people not telling us the truth that will help grow us up. We either want to be evolving, changing, becoming, or not. Those who do - listen to their critics - embrace the perspective outside of their own - and succeed all the more!

Now this enduring the betrayal of false friends, this one is still too painful to touch at times. What if the "friend" is a family member, a sibling, a spouse. What if the endurance is not just getting past the pain of the betrayal - but having to then continue to co-exist with those persons. What then? How then? Endurance. Resilience. To have allowed someone close enough to hurt us so deeply - it is the risk love always takes. The endurance comes in being willing to try again for the sake of love, for the sake of the good of the whole.

No longer foolish - but still trusting. That is the goal on the other side of betrayal, to remain trusting to something beyond the persons involved.

It is a tough one... a really tough one...

To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;

Aren't these kind of the same. I like to say out loud, in case anyone is listening, when I am near fresh flowers, very enthusiastically, I say as I lean in to savor the smell, "Never miss the chance to smell real flowers!" Then I take as much time as possible to drink in the scent. Isn't that what it is to find the best in others? To recognize them as the "real flower" they are? Despite their thorns, or not being our favorite bloom, they still are magnificent to behold, take in, recognize. In Florida they might say "take it all in y'all!" The sunrises, the babies sleeping, the flowers, the flawlessness of youth, the new buds on trees, the wrinkles of age and wisdom when old people laugh, the sounds of babies giggling, and gentle breathing, and the thumping of our hearts...Take it all in. See it, smell it, taste it, savor it while you can. It is the best of life... Don't miss it. Don't miss each other.

To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; To know one life has breathed easier because you have lived.

I have two healthy kids, but I suck at gardening and I am certainly not at this moment redeeming a social condition. I can only hope that by gestures large and small, others have had their load eased or en-lightened... I say to people a lot, it is our job to "take it up a notch" for the next generation. By this, I am referring to this portion of the poem.

Some are called to do things on a world impact scale, some are called to make sure their children are developing the principles of character that they themselves lacked. Which is more important? Who is the judge of what I am here to do? Just do your

utmost at whatever you find yourself doing. Do it with enthusiasm and conviction and excellence. Be a blessing to others... It is not that hard folks.

Remember that what you possess in the world will be found on the day of your death to belong to someone else, what you are, will be yours forever.

Of all the "things" my father possessed, this poem, found on the day of his death, that defines who he at least desired to be at his best if you will, is all I have of his besides his reading glasses, his Catholic Bible and a dried flower for the lapel of his funeral suit.

While, who he was in behavior surely shaped my childhood and life - this piece of writing allows me to glimpse into the man he hoped he could be. We leave behind memories yes. Comes down to a handful if you think about it. But this one thing found after he dies has shaped me. It may seem morbid - but I do think often about what will be found upon my death. What conclusions will be drawn about me and my life intentions based on what I leave behind?

Another great reason not to have secrets you wouldn't want revealed one day...

Just a thought.

Moving on.

The purpose of life is not to be happy, it is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate. To have it make some difference, that you have lived and have lived well.

I know, it's kind of is a slap in the face, but it's still true. It is like realizing that life isn't fair.

Sure it would be great if it was, but it is not. Get used to it. If you start out not expecting to be happy - nothing lost right?!

But here is the thing - when you are useful, honorable and compassionate - the happy comes.

True joy comes in the doing and giving away to others.

All of the people pursuing their idea of happy will come up empty-handed at the end of the day.

And basically, that is what it all comes down to, the end of the day, the end of our lives.

What will be important to us then?

Did you laugh?

Did you love?

Did you take in all the blessings?

Did you give away the extra blessings?

Did you did take the time the self examine? To heal?

Did you choose to grow and change and become better?

Did you seek to use your life for the highest good? Did you love and nurture those under your care?

It will be kinda too late to be asking those questions at the end.

What despair it would be to find that you had done it wrong all along!

This little square of paper was like the 10 commandments for me.

Actually - I am quite confident that the principles of the 10 commandments can be accounted for here.

Thanks dad for leaving breadcrumbs on the path to help me find my way once you were gone from sight. These morsels have filled my life with purpose and value.

138 words.

Powerful powerful things, words are.