Barb Writes

When was the last time someone in your family experienced a medical crisis that pushed everyone to their limits? If you have to think about it for more than a minute, be thankful. If something springs immediately to mind, consider it a blessing. What! How can a medical crisis be a blessing?

Don’t misunderstand. I don’t know of anyone, including myself, who wants to be sick or injured. What I do realize is there are a lot of positive things we can learn about life and the people in our lives when we are in the midst of a crisis. And the things we learn are worthy of writing down as part of our memoires to share with people who might learn from us. Here are four such lessons:

1. “When the going gets tough…” relationships trump everything else. No amount of money, power, prestige, or “stuff” can replace the relationships we have with people close to us. Houses and cars can’t take the place of people. Sometimes, when medical crises hit, we are reminded that our hopes and dreams mean little without the people we love.
2. “No man is an island…” without at least two relatives: parents. We were created with an immediate need to depend on someone else. No human ever born would survive the first days of life if another person did not care for their needs. The Master Creator designed us so we would need to depend on one another. And, throughout our lives, we all need help from time to time.
3. “I wish I’d spent more time at the office…” are the classic last words that nobody ever says on their deathbed. I challenge anyone to prove me wrong. People are more inclined to think about what will be said on their tombstone, or said in their epitaph. How did they care for, and relate to the people closest to them. How well or how badly will they be remembered?
4. “Heaven is for Real…” is more than the name of a bestselling book. It’s a reality check. We live on earth for one century, probably less, but our souls live in the life that follows for eternity. There are no second chances after we’re gone to make amends, or to change the course of our eternity. The most important relationship we have on earth is the one we have with Jesus our Savior. He is the only major figure, from any religion, who claimed to be God and has the proof to back it up. If you don’t believe me, pick up a Bible and read the Gospels.

The next time you find yourself in the midst of a medical crisis – yours or a family member’s – remember to look for the blessings. You’ll find them in the faces, hands, and words of the people around you. You might find them coming from you. And, be sure to let me know what you find.

Most researchers agree that humans can survive without food for several weeks, and depending on physical and environmental conditions, three or four days without water. But humans are more than the sum of their physical parts. Humans have emotional and spiritual components that need continual nourishment. Human dignity, the quality of being considered worthy of honor, respect, or esteem, and the hope that comes through faith might be even more important to personal survival that food and water.

I recently read the biography written by Laura Hillenbrand, “Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption.” It told about Louis Zamperini, who was an Olympic runner, U.S. Air Corps bombardier, and World War II prisoner of war. During a routine reconnaissance run in the South Pacific, Zamperini’s aircraft crashed in the Pacific Ocean. After drifting on a raft in shark-infested waters for 47 days, he was picked up by a Japanese military unit and endured the next two-and-a-half years in a series of prison camps under brutal conditions. By all accounts, this 94-year-old hero could have died on innumerable occasions before he reached the age of 30.

During his captivity, Zamperini was denied the most basic physical needs of adequate food, water, and medical care. As long as he clung to hope, Zamperini was able to overcome disease, near-starvation, and hard physical labor. The lowest point came near the end of his imprisonment when he could no longer see an end to the daily beatings and psychological humiliations directed at him by one high-powered prison camp leader. Zamperini no longer felt his sense of God-given dignity as a human being.

The ensuing sense of hopelessness became the catalyst for a downward spiral into alcoholism and uncontrolled anger that lasted for many years after his rescue and hero’s welcome home. Redemption came instantly when he accepted Christ as his Savior at a Billy Graham crusade. Soon thereafter, Zamperini went on to create the Victory Boys Camp for wayward youth, and hasn’t slowed down since. “I never have a bad day,” says Zamperini.

Zamperini became the person he is today in part because of the challenges he endured. He eventually found peace in his heart to forgive the very people who caused him so much pain and humiliation during captivity. His story has become an inspiration for thousands throughout the world.

Most people will never face the extreme brutality that Zamperini experienced, but we have all experienced periods of trial and uncertainty. In We all experience some loss: aspirations and dreams, a home, income, health, a family pet, or a loved one. The wise among us learn to nourish their souls with hope – one thing that grows stronger when it is shared. How have you overcome the inevitable low periods in your life?  Send an e-mail to barb@barbwrites.com and tell me your story of hope. It will be nourishment for the soul.

The other night, I stepped outside to observe the star-studded sky. No moon was present to diminish the splendor of their glory. Their numbers were estimated in a 2003 CNN Science & Space count to be more than 70 sextillion, (70 plus 21 zeroes). It was magnificent!

I stood transfixed, admiring the orderly appearance of familiar constellations. Orion is my favorite, even though the Big Dipper gets all the publicity in the northern hemisphere. Unintentionally, my thoughts wandered back in time to summer nights with my family. Lying on a blanket in the grass to capture the full display, I gazed up at the heavenly stars. Imagine, these stars are the same now as they were then, some 50 years ago.

On this night, I realized these same stars were used by sailors, who relied on them for nightly directions as they crossed oceans hundreds and thousands of years ago in ships or on rafts. Their very lives depended on the reliability of these stars. I began to ponder, “Why are all the stars still in place? Could it be random chance? What are the odds?” Perhaps that was the lesson my family wanted me to learn as a child.

The passage of childhood is inevitable, and some of the star-gazers in my family have now passed away. Those days of innocence, of absorbing knowledge from my elders, are gone. I do find solace in knowing their memories are just one starry night away, or even better, just one starry thought away.

How about you? What “star sighting” memories do you have? How did your family spend summer nights together when you were young? I would love to hear from you.

Hi Dad,

Today is your birthday. You would be 102 years old if you were still alive. I’ve missed you and mom these last few decades, but I’ve come to accept the fact that we all need to move forward. Now, instead of becoming sullen on your birthday, I remember the songs you loved to sing to me when I was still your little girl, and I sing them the way you used to do.

You have been in my dreams lately. Those dreams are warm reminders to me that I was blessed to have such a loving father. You  always put the needs of mom and us children before yours without complaint. It was obvious that you and mom were still deeply in love after more than 50 years of marriage. And, you showed your love for all of us with gentle hugs and positive words. When I wrote my childhood memoirs, they were happy stories. Much of that is because of you. You were a strong, faithful husband and father. I know a lot of people who were not so fortunate.

I’m so thankful that I could share my stories with the younger members of our family, the ones who never had the opportunity to know you and mom. Because of those stories, I have been able to tell your great-grandchildren how you kept a mischievous twinkle in your eye, even during the final days of your life on earth. In writing about those days, I was able to see how much you taught me about being a person of integrity, when you didn’t know it would matter. Perhaps even now, someone will learn a lesson of value from you.

Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you.

Your Baby Girl

So many of the things we remember in life are firsts: the first step a child took; the first day of school or work; or our first trip out of the state or out of the country. These are the subjects of many memories, but have you thought of the last time something happened before the first thing could become a first?

I remember as a child bumping my head on the side of the kitchen table as I tried to walk under it; that was a first and only, because I was a pretty smart kid. But I also remember being able to fit under the kitchen table where I pretended to be in my own little house while my mother cooked dinner nearby. That was the last thing I remembered about the table before the head-banging incident. There are many other lasts that I remember as well, some happy and others sad.

I remember the last time I spent an evening with a favorite relative before his unexpected death. That experience has become a very special memory over the years, even thought it was not a particularly memorable event at the time. It serves as a reminder that many of our most treasured memories are of the ordinary variety. So much of what we value most about our relationships with family and friends happens while we are busy doing things together, sharing experiences. Our last time together is the first that comes to mind whenever I think of this relative.

What are your lasts? What last memories freshen your mind when you first think about someone special in your life? Was it your last vacation together, your last day of class, or your last birthday celebration? Send me a message and tell me about it. Let me be the first to hear about your lasts, happy or sad.

Now that we’ve pushed away from the dinner tables for the few days until New Year’s Eve, it’s a good time to start reflecting on the past year, as it applies to our own lives. Have you accomplished everything you resolved to do in 2010 – maybe a few of the things? Do you even remember what your New Year’s resolutions were?

Here’s a new twist on an old custom that might be a lot easier to keep than say, losing that weight you just gained or quitting that bad habit that keeps rearing its ugly head. What if you resolved to do something interesting and good for you - something that doesn’t require any expensive gear, memberships or a lot of your time?

Keep a journal of your life in 2011. All you need is a pen and notebook, or if you’re they kind of person who likes to sit in front of a computer screen (which you are most likely doing to read this blog), a simple word processing document, such as MS Word. Create a document titled: My 2011 Journal and store it on your desktop. If you prefer to write by hand, keep your notebook and pen near the place where you sit and write. The hard work is over, now for the interesting part.

Whenever something good happens, write it down, even if it’s just a little thing. Did you complete a class, pass a difficult test, or get recognition for something you did at work? Maybe you were feeling down and a friend treated you to lunch to cheer you up. Is there something you are hoping to acquire or accomplish. Make a note of your goal. Whenever life changes happen, write them down. Is anyone in your family anticipating the arrival of a new baby? Talk about a life change! Write it down.

You don’t need to spend a lot of time on any journal entry, but there are a few details you will want to include: the date, the person(s) involved, and a brief description of your experience. You can write as often as you wish, but I suggest you add to your journal at least once a week.

Here’s where it gets really fun. After a few months, page through your earlier entries. You might be surprised by what you find written in your own hand – and you may even have the start of a personal memoir. Now, that’s a whole lot more  fun than counting calories or agonizing over push ups.

“Thanks a lot, Mother Nature. That’s just what we needed: an extra serving of snow.” One short week after the fifth-largest snowstorm in Minnesota recorded history, we got a second, much smaller, helping – on the last day before the official start of winter. This year is shaping up to be the one today’s children talk about well into their senior years. But why wait until then? There are plenty of fond memories to capture today. The ones that will surely get lost over the years.

Last week, when we were shoveling the wet, heavy snow out of our driveway by hand, two of our neighbors came over and (literally) dug in to help. We have always enjoyed our neighbors, but this act of kindness took our attitude to a whole new level of appreciation. Later that day, we helped some friends push their car out of a snowbank.

There’s something special that happens between people when they’re working together for a shared goal. It can happen at home, at work – literally anywhere two or more people are together. These are the things that make for wonderful memories. In four more months, we will be watching mountains of snow melt into green grass around a forest of budding trees. Every snowflake will become a thing of the past, but the memories of the snow stories we are making now will last a lifetime. And if we write them down, they may even bless future generations.

What stories do you have? The same principle that applies to snowstorms can also apply to floods, mudslides, tornadoes, hurricanes and any other situation where people have the opportunity to work together for the common good. Make it special, and make it last.

The middle-aged woman sat across the table from her mother as I asked the question, “How did you manage after your husband died in the accident?” 

At this point, our lighthearted interview turned suddenly serious. The mother paused for a moment, then said, “At first, I didn’t do very well. My husband did so many things to take care of us all, that I didn’t think I could make it without him. It was all I could do to get up in the morning. But I had to think of the children, so I just forced myself to keep going.”

“What happened to helped you get through that time?”

“There were a couple of other widows at the office where I worked. They understood exactly what I was going through and made a point of talking to me every day. They knew how I was feeling and knew from their own experiences what I needed to hear. Eventually, I realized they were right, things were going to get better.”

Her daughter leaned forward across the table. “Mom, I had no idea. You always seemed to be so in control. We kids never knew how difficult it was for you and we didn’t want to make you sad by talking about dad.”

Prompted by two simple questions, this mother and daughter opened the door to a deepening conversation about their shared tragedy. Their already strong bond grew stronger. As we parted after the interview, I could hear them continuing their conversation about that time, so long ago, and how the experience shaped their lives. It was a bittersweet moment.

There are times when it is appropriate, even healing, to include tragic events in personal histories. For these women, the time was right; it had been more than a decade since that terrible accident. Time had softened their pain; its overwhelming heaviness had lifted.

When one of  your loved ones has a painful memory, be willing to ask about it, and be willing to back away if they are not ready to respond. Talk to them with loving kindness and respect. You may never hear the entire story, but you will get a deeper appreciation of the person they have become as a result of the experience.

On Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2011, President Barack Obama awarded Army Staff Sgt. Salvatore Giunta the nation’s highest decoration for valor in combat, the Medal of Honor. The fact that he is the first living person since the Vietnam War to receive this honor speaks of the sacrifice it represents. Three other recipients from the War in Afghanistan received this award posthumously.

And yet, Giunta does not consider himself to be a hero; he would say he did nothing more than any of his comrades had done. In my personal experience,  ever military veteran who I have ever talked to expressed the same sentiment. To me, they are all heroes, including Staff Sgt. Giunta. 

Who are the military heroes in your life? Our national Thanksgiving holiday is this week, a time when many families and friends gather to celebrate all that we as a nation have to be thankful for. If you get the chance, give the military veterans in your life a big “Thank You” from me. If they are like the veterans I know, they will simply say, “I was just doing my job.”