Rain and Pain

July 19
Thursday

There were thunderstorms last night. We badly needed the rain. Today the plants look tired, but happy. The grass grew overnight.

Today would have been dad's 100th birthday. Every so often I speculate what my relationship with him might have been had he lived longer. I was just shy of 13 when he died. He was not quite 49.

I idolized him of course. I hadn't yet turned into an angry, petulant teenager. He hadn't had to drop the hammer. We would have had problems but I like to think we'd have done OK.

He taught me to love baseball, card games, words and spicy food. He told me that you can find the best food--and sometimes the best people--in plain Jane restaurants, and that you can learn from anyone. Later, when I read Confucius and saw this, I wasn't surprised:

The Master said, "Even when walking in a party of no more than three I can always be certain of learning from those I am with.  There will be good qualities that I can select for imitation and bad ones that will teach me what requires correction in myself."

                                              Analects, Book 7:21

He taught me to play chess and poker and he taught me to listen closely. This is how he did it:

It was a Saturday morning breakfast. I had just been given my first allowance; two quarters--a fortune. He told me he "would give me a nickel for every quarter I could stand on end." I tried and tried and couldn't do it. Then I had a brainstorm. I leaned the quarter against my milk glass and held out my hand. He gave me a nickel and took the quarter. I howled. He told me that he had done exactly what he had agreed to do--give me a nickel for the quarter. He told me he'd give me a nickel for every quarter I could lay on its side, too.

He wouldn't give that quarter back. He told me I had to learn to hear what the words really said, not what I thought or wanted them to say. I was furious but he was firm.

Years later when I was bargaining labor agreements for the UAW that lesson saved me more than once. And more than once it enabled me to get a favorable agreement from a manager who failed to pay attention. It was worth a lot more than that quarter.

I missed dad growing up. It would have been great to have someone teach me how to shave, tie a tie, drive a car. I learned all that on my own--including driving. Mom was nearly deaf. When she was asleep my friends and I would take her keys and take off. She never checked the odometer. I drove 10,000 miles before my first test . . . which I failed for speeding and driving with one hand on the wheel. Thankfully we were never hurt . . . and we were only caught once.

For a long time I was angry; at God, at mom, at every kid who had a dad. Finally I was angry at everything and everyone. It took years for me to understand why. And, it took still more years to begin to control that anger. I still fight my temper. That will never end, I suppose. But I have accepted his death and am thankful for the time I had. So many have less. Some have none at all.

There is never a good time to lose someone you love.

This afternoon I received three calls and several emails telling me that Pastor Jim Haugen died today.  He and his wife were picking up food for the food bank they began in the church across the street from mine. She was backing up, he was directing. Something happened and she ran over him, pinning him under the car.

My heart breaks for her. They were so in love even after all these years. How she will deal with that is beyond me. Not long ago their son died of complications following a stroke. I can't imagine her grief, her loss.

This community loses, too. Jim was a hard-working, willing servant. He planted that church and in no time he had a kids group, bible studies and the food bank up and running. He was a fine man.

Rain softly falling
golden leaves drop quietly--

life passes, passes