October 15, 2016 Saturday’s Smile Read More »
I’ve been a Patty Griffin fan since her first album, Living With Ghosts, released in 1996. That record has the song she sings in the above video – Forgiveness.
More times than I can count I’ve started writing notes for a podcast episode featuring her music. I own most of her records. You should, too. Her latest record – Servant Of Love – came out last September (2015) and has some terrific songs. Beautiful melodies and thought-provoking lyrics. Songs like Rider Of Days and Shine A Different Way.
But let’s get on with it. Today’s not a podcast, but just some words on a screen. On a web page. And I’ll try to keep it really short.
“Everybody needs a little forgiveness,” she sings. True enough. Because we all offend sometimes.
We’ve only got two choices when it comes to suffering offenses. Forgive. Be bitter. One fuels us so we can keep moving forward. The other one weighs us down, drains our tank and leaves us running on fumes until we’re completely spent.
I’ve been thinking of this topic for a long time because it’s such a common occurrence in all our lives. Offenses. Forgiveness. Or the refusal to forgive. And something else…the difficult time some people have in asking to be forgiven. Apologies are tough for some. “My (fill in the blank with relationships like “husband,” or “wife,” or “mother,” or “father” or something else) NEVER apologizes for anything.” I hear it all the time and I admit I don’t understand it. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I have a confession to make. Apologizing has never been tough for me. Good thing, because I have to do it frequently.
Don’t get me wrong. I have plenty of weaknesses…that I’d just soon not discuss at the moment. But apologizing and asking for forgiveness isn’t one of them. I grew up apologizing for things that weren’t even my fault. It just made life easier. Maybe that’s where the habit was formed, but I’m glad. Because I’ve seen so many people eaten alive with bitterness because they couldn’t ask for it or give it – forgiveness.
Forgiving isn’t hard for me either. It started when I was young mostly because I refused to give people the power of consuming big chunks of my life. I positively refused to let people who had wronged me create bitterness in my life. Probably because I knew I needed as much energy as I could get to be who I most wanted to be. I had no energy to spare because my personal margin for error when it comes to achievement and accomplishment is probably so thin.
Offenses are common. We all commit them.
Forgiveness is more exclusive. We don’t all ask for it and we certainly don’t all extend it.
So which are you? Bitter or forgiving? Bitter or forgiven?
Maybe it’s time to join the rather exclusive club of people who make up their mind to more freely ask for – and offer – forgiveness. Maybe it’s time to take a load off your life and start behaving like you hope others will behave toward you. Funny thing about forgiveness and apologies…everybody I know wants it when they’re the ones who are offended. Make sure you learn to give first. I’m betting you’ll find yourself in the receiving end more if you do.
And even if you’re not, it’s the wisest way to go.
Offenses & Forgiveness Read More »
October 8, 2016 Saturday’s Smile Read More »
October 1, 2016 Saturday’s Smile Read More »
Rosie was the alpha of the two between she and her brother, Rocky. We lost Rocky last year in the Spring. We lost Rosie this morning. For the past 16 years she’s been a fixture in my life, the anxious greeter when we come home. Like her brother, she was never far away, preferring to always be in the same room with me or Rhonda. Like most dogs, she had her favorite spots. Curled up in a corner right behind Rhonda’s office chair. Directly under a chair to my left Inside The Yellow Studio (that’s where this picture was taken in August this year). She was marching toward 17. Okay, maybe marching is too strong a term, but she was sleeping her way there.
When we lost Rocky she was lost for about 2 weeks, but we helped her adjust. Yes, she got to sleep in the bed for a few nights – something we’ve never done with pets before. Like us, she went on with life. Just last week I gave her a bath, which prompted her usual romping through the house with a new hop in her step. Provoking her to play with her two favorite toys: a penguin and an angry bird.
I’ve wept. When a pet grows old you realize the eventuality of loss. And still we invest so much of our heart into the relationship with a living being that loves us so unconditionally. People don’t often display the happiness pets do at our arrival. Others have written about it, but if you’re not a pet owner, particularly a dog lover…then you’ve never fully experienced it.
I will miss her greatly. I missed her brother Rocky tremendously. It’s an end of an era. Perhaps refocusing me on my own mortality. Our days are numbered. Pet or person.
I’ll miss…
Walking in the door hollering her name in a high pitched tone.
Seeing her standing at the back door, peering out, anxious for our arrival.
I’ll miss wondering how long she was standing there waiting on us, especially on Sunday afternoons coming back from church (she was there just yesterday).
I’ll miss giving her carrots and other treats.
I’ll miss just knowing she’s there – right there by my side, or behind Rhonda – while we work.
I’ll miss her toenails clicking on the kitchen floor as Rhonda or I foraged for food, and her hoping something would fall. Magically, things would fall.
I’ll miss letting her lick the empty bowls.
I’ll miss hearing her whine with one of her favorite toys in her mouth, hoping you’d snatch it and toss it across the floor.
I’ll miss looking in one of the favorite spots for her.
So many things. Sixteen years go by far too fast. We endured quite a lot together, including the heart break of losing Rocky. This time it’s different. Today, Rhonda and I go it alone. When we lost Rocky we had Rosie to spoil as we worked through the grief. Today’s very different. Much more lonely.
It’s one thing to go from two adoring pets to one. It’s equally, if not more dramatic, to go from one to none. As I prepare to get ready to go to a client for the day, the house seems so lonely. There’s something just knowing that another living being is sharing your space. Rhonda went to an appointment early this morning so right now…it’s the first time in over 16 years that nobody is here besides me.
Rosie was the first female dog we’d ever owned. Zeke, a black lab, was our first dog. He was great, except for barking at dropping acorns. Next came Barney, a bichon who often vexed us. Then, Rocky and Rosie – two Westie siblings. Westie people had urged us to consider a pair. It scared us, but I’m so glad we did. They weren’t inexpensive, but it was among the best investments I ever made. As they say, I’d do it all over again today if I could.
A little 20 pound furry idget can take your heart, wrap it around their wagging tail and leave you weeping when they die. I’ve wept a lot and suspect I’ll continue as I work through the grief.
But here’s the thing – if we don’t open ourselves to the vulnerability of loving a critter who will so love us back (and more), then we’re really missing quite a lot in life. Our house just won’t be the same. Signs of her are everywhere. I can’t enter hardly any room without thinking of her, or seeing some memory of her in that space. My life won’t be quite right for awhile, but boy when I think of what I’d have missed if I had never let she and Rocky into my life…well, it makes the pain worthwhile.
I loved her very much. She was my Rosebud. I’ll miss her for a very long time!
Remembering Rosebud (Losing My Biggest Admirer) Read More »