This project has been years in the making. I have always sort of known that I needed to do it… way back in the top secret places of my mind, but it just seemed so daunting to try to put it together, so I just kept burying the urge.
Recently several people have suggested to me that I should write a book, but I have really struggled with the topic. Should I write a fictional book, or a self-help book, or a biography? There were just too many decisions to really get me to focus on any one idea.
This year I started really feeling an urgency to do this and once I opened my mind and my heart to the idea, the big picture started coming together
When my dad was diagnosed with cancer, he said we would deal with it just like you would eat an elephant… one bite at a time! Our family immediately adopted the elephant as our family icon and we had posters of elephants on the wall of the hospital room and very quickly elephant figurines, pictures, music boxes, etc started popping up on desks and bookshelves and walls in our homes as a reminder of how one deals with the challenges that life throws at you.
So I decided to tackle this project the same way my dad dealt with cancer…. one bite at a time, one lesson at a time. I have fondly nicknamed it Project Elephant for that reason. . I have spent a lot of time thinking about this and as I have started writing chapters, I have realized that my main motivation is to share the stories and the things I have learned. I have decided that instead of doing it in a published book, I am just going to share the chapters on my blog, so that everyone who wants to read it will have the chance. As I publish the chapters here, I will label them all “Project Elephant”, for those of you who wish to follow along.
My idea for this “book” was to focus on some of the lessons that I learned from my dad while he was learning to eat his elephant. As I started pondering thoughts and as I reached out to family members and invited them to share their ideas of lessons learned, I realized that I had been learning important lessons from my dad way before cancer took over our lives. Many of them were not intentional lessons that he set out to purposely teach. Looking back, many of them were subtle lessons that one had to be quietly observing to even notice.
As you share this journey, it is my hope that you will be able to catch the spirit with which this project is intended and forgive my shortcomings as a writer. I like to write the way I think and sometimes it’s difficult to put into words what is in my head and my heart.
It is my intention for this project to be somewhat of a tribute to my dad as time quickly approaches the 20th anniversary of the end of his journey here on earth and the beginning of his next adventure. In order for me to adequately express some of the lessons learned, there will be stories that are difficult to read and even more difficult to tell. Therefore, I also hope that you won’t hold my dad’s shortcomings as a human being against him. We all have a path before us on our journey here on earth. Sometimes our path is made more difficult because of our own choices and sometimes because of the choices of others, but we all have our agency and for that I am truly grateful. With that agency comes the responsibility to forgive… to forgive others, whose choices have made our own journey bumpy, and to forgive ourselves when we have caused others to stumble.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
How To Eat An Elephant ~ Chapter 1: Look For the Strawberry
There is a Zen Poem about a man who was being chased by a tiger. "Coming to a precipice, he grabbed a vine and flung himself over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, he looked down, where far below him another tiger waited to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, little by little started to gnaw away at the vine. The man then noticed a luscious wild strawberry growing nearby. Grasping the vine with one hand, he reached out with the other and picked the strawberry and ate it. It was so delicious."
For as long as I can remember, every time something bad happened (or when things simply didn’t turn out the way we wanted them to), dad would tell us to look for the strawberry in the situation. I remember one time when he said that, I found myself thinking in my mind, how much I hated strawberries!!
The strawberry has become almost as famous in our family as the elephant when it comes to dealing with challenges. Sometimes outsiders have confused our little inside joke with other fruit. One time, when my sister Brittney was in the hospital in a coma, our bishop traveled several hours to the hospital to pay a visit. He asked if he could offer a prayer, so we all gathered in my sister’s room and he spoke a wonderful prayer. He prayed that we could find a cherry in this situation…. We all knew what he meant!
After the prayer, we all giggled. I suppose at that moment, laughter was the best medicine for us, so in a sense, him mixing up our little fruit parable, was a strawberry in and of itself.
Strawberries are those tender mercies in life. They don’t always have to be in a moment of trial. A strawberry can appear out of nowhere when you least expect it and make you smile. Example… just the other day, I was having a bad day, I was feeling a lot of pressure from a business we were starting up and I was feeling a little neglected. I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store and while I was getting somewhat irritated at the person in front of me for having more than 15 items in the express line, I looked at the impulse items on the shelf and noticed a black tube of Chapstick. My dad ALWAYS had tubes of black Chapstick stashed everywhere. It was his favorite. It was a smell I associate with his memory. (That and Elsha Cologne) When I was growing up, I don’t remember ever getting kissed by my daddy without him leaving a little residue of “black Chapstick” behind. I couldn’t help but smile and think that was that I was being given the opportunity to slow down for just a moment and notice something that had been in front of me every time I visit a check stand at a grocery store, but that I hadn't thought about in nearly 20 years. At that moment I felt close to my dad… Tender mercies…. The Strawberry! (I bought that Chapstick and every time I use it, I feel like I am receiving a little kiss straight from Heaven!!)
I have often pondered over strawberries that have come to me from situations like my dad getting cancer and my sister’s drowning. I think the biggest strawberry from these events is the closeness our family has gained through tragedy and our ability to rally together through good times and bad.
I was really close to my dad and sometimes I think I would sell my soul if I could just talk to him and ask his advice. Although it may not seem like it, but there-in lies a couple more strawberries in his death.
First… I have a very real reason to make sure that I am living my life in such a way that I will have the opportunity to be with my dad again someday, when our journeys once again intersect.
Second… Since his death, I have had the opportunity to become close with my mom and develop a relationship with her that I never took the time to develop when I was younger. Growing up, I always thought of her as bad cop. It wasn’t because she wanted to be bad cop, it’s just the way it worked out because dad was all too content to take on the role of good cop. I also now realize that she wasn’t REALLY the bad cop, our personalities were just a lot alike, so we clashed more and it was simply my perception of the situation that was distorted. So there is the strawberry… the tender mercy…. I was simply granted more time on earth with my sweet momma, so that I could have more time here on earth to develop that eternal relationship and gain more perspective and appreciation for all she sacrificed for her family. I am now the same age my mom was when she became a widow with 4 children still at home. I honestly can’t imagine how she got through it… I guess it must have been all the strawberries along the way.
So today’s lesson is this: When you find yourself hanging by a thread with tigers above and below you, wanting to eat you alive, and mice are chewing on your thin thread…. Look for that strawberry… that tender mercy….let go of the rope (with one hand), reach out and enjoy that moment!
For as long as I can remember, every time something bad happened (or when things simply didn’t turn out the way we wanted them to), dad would tell us to look for the strawberry in the situation. I remember one time when he said that, I found myself thinking in my mind, how much I hated strawberries!!
The strawberry has become almost as famous in our family as the elephant when it comes to dealing with challenges. Sometimes outsiders have confused our little inside joke with other fruit. One time, when my sister Brittney was in the hospital in a coma, our bishop traveled several hours to the hospital to pay a visit. He asked if he could offer a prayer, so we all gathered in my sister’s room and he spoke a wonderful prayer. He prayed that we could find a cherry in this situation…. We all knew what he meant!
After the prayer, we all giggled. I suppose at that moment, laughter was the best medicine for us, so in a sense, him mixing up our little fruit parable, was a strawberry in and of itself.
Strawberries are those tender mercies in life. They don’t always have to be in a moment of trial. A strawberry can appear out of nowhere when you least expect it and make you smile. Example… just the other day, I was having a bad day, I was feeling a lot of pressure from a business we were starting up and I was feeling a little neglected. I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store and while I was getting somewhat irritated at the person in front of me for having more than 15 items in the express line, I looked at the impulse items on the shelf and noticed a black tube of Chapstick. My dad ALWAYS had tubes of black Chapstick stashed everywhere. It was his favorite. It was a smell I associate with his memory. (That and Elsha Cologne) When I was growing up, I don’t remember ever getting kissed by my daddy without him leaving a little residue of “black Chapstick” behind. I couldn’t help but smile and think that was that I was being given the opportunity to slow down for just a moment and notice something that had been in front of me every time I visit a check stand at a grocery store, but that I hadn't thought about in nearly 20 years. At that moment I felt close to my dad… Tender mercies…. The Strawberry! (I bought that Chapstick and every time I use it, I feel like I am receiving a little kiss straight from Heaven!!)
I have often pondered over strawberries that have come to me from situations like my dad getting cancer and my sister’s drowning. I think the biggest strawberry from these events is the closeness our family has gained through tragedy and our ability to rally together through good times and bad.
I was really close to my dad and sometimes I think I would sell my soul if I could just talk to him and ask his advice. Although it may not seem like it, but there-in lies a couple more strawberries in his death.
First… I have a very real reason to make sure that I am living my life in such a way that I will have the opportunity to be with my dad again someday, when our journeys once again intersect.
Second… Since his death, I have had the opportunity to become close with my mom and develop a relationship with her that I never took the time to develop when I was younger. Growing up, I always thought of her as bad cop. It wasn’t because she wanted to be bad cop, it’s just the way it worked out because dad was all too content to take on the role of good cop. I also now realize that she wasn’t REALLY the bad cop, our personalities were just a lot alike, so we clashed more and it was simply my perception of the situation that was distorted. So there is the strawberry… the tender mercy…. I was simply granted more time on earth with my sweet momma, so that I could have more time here on earth to develop that eternal relationship and gain more perspective and appreciation for all she sacrificed for her family. I am now the same age my mom was when she became a widow with 4 children still at home. I honestly can’t imagine how she got through it… I guess it must have been all the strawberries along the way.
So today’s lesson is this: When you find yourself hanging by a thread with tigers above and below you, wanting to eat you alive, and mice are chewing on your thin thread…. Look for that strawberry… that tender mercy….let go of the rope (with one hand), reach out and enjoy that moment!
How to Eat An Elephant ~ Chapter 2: Those Who Deserve Love the Least, Need It the Most
This would be one of those lessons that I mentioned that wasn’t really a result of dad’s battle with cancer. It is very much one of those lessons that one needed to be quietly observing to even notice.
Growing up in a small town, it seemed like jobs were hard to come by. My dad never really had a career to speak of where he did one job forever. He did what he needed to do to support our family to the best of his ability. It seemed like he was always doing odd jobs for a little money on the side. He was kind of a jack of all trades… except for plumbing! Whenever we needed a plumber, my mom would take care of fixing things and if she couldn’t fix it, she hired someone because she found it was cheaper to pay a plumber than to pay to repair the things that dad broke while he was trying to be a plumber!
One of the jobs he did was teaching alternate school. He was given a desk in the corner of the bus barn out behind the school and was assigned to try to teach the students that had disciplinary problems and weren’t otherwise allowed to attend school with the general population. These would be the kids that were suspended or expelled from school. I recall that it involved a dozen or so kids at any one time.
While I was home visiting one day, I went to see him at his little one room school and was very confused about his situation. It was a struggle for him and it appeared, from the outside looking in, that he was seriously underpaid and very underappreciated by the students and those to whom he reported. Later that evening, I asked him why he bothered to do it. The kids were unruly and didn’t seem to listen to him and he was being paid peanuts compared to what a teacher inside the school across the parking lot was paid. He simply put his arm around my shoulder and said. “Those who deserve love the least, need it the most.”
He was certainly not suggesting that any one of those students was undeserving of love. The point he was trying to make was that all they needed was some love and someone to believe in them to make a difference in their lives. Many of these kids graduated or attained their GED, due to the fact that he was willing to work in a job simply because he saw potential in these kids and he didn’t judge them for their poor choices or even their continued bad behavior. He just loved them.
He knew all too well what it was like to make poor choices in life and to have people love you through those poor choices and stand by your side and allow you to grow and rise to your potential.
Over the years, on a regular basis, I find myself pondering this lesson and even sharing it with others. It taught me to look beneath the bad behavior and low self-esteem of people and see the good in them and to imagine their potential. Perhaps much the way God looks at us and our shortcoming and sees the good in us and knows of the great things we can accomplish if only we could believe in ourselves. Regardless of what bad choices we may have made or how often we continue the same mistake.
Another example of this lesson was the way my dad coached little league. I remember that our summers were spent at the ballpark. My dad coached little league in the afternoons, played on a men’s league in the evenings and usually umpired any game that he was not playing or coaching. For the purposes of this lesson, I want to focus on the little league.
To say my dad was intensely competitive would be a gross understatement! He lived and died by the outcome of a sporting event. It didn’t matter if it was little league baseball, church basketball or watching the Braves on TV. His intensity and competitiveness are a whole other lesson!
But when it came to little league, he was a gentle giant. He was most definitely in it to win it, but to him, the boys were more important than the outcome of the game. He had some great players on his team throughout the years, but he also picked kids that were not the biggest and fastest kids in the pool. He loved them all and saw great potential in every one of them. He treated them equally and fairly. Many of the other coaches took things way to seriously by yelling and belittling the boys. In every other sport in his life, my dad was one of those people who took the game too serious, but in little league, it was all about the boys. Gently teaching them life lessons was more important to him than the win and regardless of the outcome, he frequently treated the team to root beer floats at the A & W after the game to congratulate them on their efforts.
Many of these boys, later in life, have commented to me on how his example and his interest in them made a difference in their lives.
“…if ye have done it unto the least of these…” comes to mind when I think of the example of how he treated the youth in the valley.
For my dad it was never about the money…. It was about being there when someone needed a person to believe in them and loving them despite their choices. It was all about the worth of a soul. He came full circle with this idea. He gave love and then, when he needed love in return, he was loved, which enabled him to pay it forward and give more love. It really is a beautiful lesson to have learned.
Growing up in a small town, it seemed like jobs were hard to come by. My dad never really had a career to speak of where he did one job forever. He did what he needed to do to support our family to the best of his ability. It seemed like he was always doing odd jobs for a little money on the side. He was kind of a jack of all trades… except for plumbing! Whenever we needed a plumber, my mom would take care of fixing things and if she couldn’t fix it, she hired someone because she found it was cheaper to pay a plumber than to pay to repair the things that dad broke while he was trying to be a plumber!
One of the jobs he did was teaching alternate school. He was given a desk in the corner of the bus barn out behind the school and was assigned to try to teach the students that had disciplinary problems and weren’t otherwise allowed to attend school with the general population. These would be the kids that were suspended or expelled from school. I recall that it involved a dozen or so kids at any one time.
While I was home visiting one day, I went to see him at his little one room school and was very confused about his situation. It was a struggle for him and it appeared, from the outside looking in, that he was seriously underpaid and very underappreciated by the students and those to whom he reported. Later that evening, I asked him why he bothered to do it. The kids were unruly and didn’t seem to listen to him and he was being paid peanuts compared to what a teacher inside the school across the parking lot was paid. He simply put his arm around my shoulder and said. “Those who deserve love the least, need it the most.”
He was certainly not suggesting that any one of those students was undeserving of love. The point he was trying to make was that all they needed was some love and someone to believe in them to make a difference in their lives. Many of these kids graduated or attained their GED, due to the fact that he was willing to work in a job simply because he saw potential in these kids and he didn’t judge them for their poor choices or even their continued bad behavior. He just loved them.
He knew all too well what it was like to make poor choices in life and to have people love you through those poor choices and stand by your side and allow you to grow and rise to your potential.
Over the years, on a regular basis, I find myself pondering this lesson and even sharing it with others. It taught me to look beneath the bad behavior and low self-esteem of people and see the good in them and to imagine their potential. Perhaps much the way God looks at us and our shortcoming and sees the good in us and knows of the great things we can accomplish if only we could believe in ourselves. Regardless of what bad choices we may have made or how often we continue the same mistake.
Another example of this lesson was the way my dad coached little league. I remember that our summers were spent at the ballpark. My dad coached little league in the afternoons, played on a men’s league in the evenings and usually umpired any game that he was not playing or coaching. For the purposes of this lesson, I want to focus on the little league.
To say my dad was intensely competitive would be a gross understatement! He lived and died by the outcome of a sporting event. It didn’t matter if it was little league baseball, church basketball or watching the Braves on TV. His intensity and competitiveness are a whole other lesson!
But when it came to little league, he was a gentle giant. He was most definitely in it to win it, but to him, the boys were more important than the outcome of the game. He had some great players on his team throughout the years, but he also picked kids that were not the biggest and fastest kids in the pool. He loved them all and saw great potential in every one of them. He treated them equally and fairly. Many of the other coaches took things way to seriously by yelling and belittling the boys. In every other sport in his life, my dad was one of those people who took the game too serious, but in little league, it was all about the boys. Gently teaching them life lessons was more important to him than the win and regardless of the outcome, he frequently treated the team to root beer floats at the A & W after the game to congratulate them on their efforts.
Many of these boys, later in life, have commented to me on how his example and his interest in them made a difference in their lives.
“…if ye have done it unto the least of these…” comes to mind when I think of the example of how he treated the youth in the valley.
For my dad it was never about the money…. It was about being there when someone needed a person to believe in them and loving them despite their choices. It was all about the worth of a soul. He came full circle with this idea. He gave love and then, when he needed love in return, he was loved, which enabled him to pay it forward and give more love. It really is a beautiful lesson to have learned.
How To Eat An Elephant~ Chapter 3: A Bird in the Hand
After dad was diagnosed with cancer, one of the things he liked doing most was just staying home and spending quality time together with his family. One of the favorite past times was playing cards. Playing cards is a serious matter for a Peterson. When my grandmother died, we found stacks of notebooks where she kept score every time someone played a hand of Rummy with her. She even kept score when she played herself in Solitaire! Cards were serious business in my family!
A couple of things I learned from this:
NEVER play cards with a Peterson, unless the rules are CLEARLY defined BEFORE you start the game. It seems like every time I would go visit, the rules of Rummy had changed… do you have to pick up the whole pile, or can you just pick up part of it. If you only pick up part of it, do you have to play the last card you picked up? It is a game of evolution and if you don’t participate on a regular basis, it evolves WITHOUT you and that makes it very hard to catch up then next time you play!
When dad got sick we set up the card table in the living room and it was a permanent fixture for many months. Anyone who came to visit was invited to play a hand. I have great memories of the fun and the interesting conversations.
He liked to say he “had a dog from every country”, which implied that he had nothing to match up. I finally figured out that this really meant he was up to something and the hand was going to be quick… like, over before you realize what happened, kind of quick.
Another thing he said a lot was “A Bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”. I have thought about this a lot over the years. What exactly did he mean by that? In cards, of course, it meant that it's better to have a lesser but certain advantage than the possibility of a greater one that may come to nothing.
I think the life lesson here, is that we have the eternal truths that give us a certain advantage in life. We should not trade that certainty for the possibility of something greater in the eyes of the world that will certainly come to nothing.
I think that by repeating things over and over while we played cards, he was trying to send us a bigger message.
That brings me to another great lesson from the card table … the importance of family. Family is also a certainty that should not be taken for granted and those relationships should not be traded for all the birds in the bush..
The card table was a gathering place and we frequently gathered. Once again another example of him doing the same thing over and over to teach us a life lesson… by spending hours at the card table, we formed bonds that were important to carry us through this life. It taught us that we need to gather often and enjoy those moments when family can be together, because when it boils down to it… that’s what it’s all about.
We came to this earth, to be organized in family units and help each other through the mortal journey. Some of our journey’s will take a little longer and some of us, like my sister, Brittney, came to this earth on a very brief journey. The goal is to learn the things we need to learn, while trying to live a life in such a way, that we have to opportunity to once again be gathered as a family unit on the other side of the veil.
I have thought a lot about the concept that he knew his time was limited and that perhaps he was trying to teach his kids some important life lessons by playing a simple card game and repeating the lesson over and over
The most important thing I learned from playing cards is how important it is for family time. It doesn’t matter if it’s playing cards, or sitting around shooting the breeze, it’s always good to spend time together and it’s worth every bit of effort it takes to get together.
Twenty years later my dad’s children are now somewhat scattered as we have all married and ended up in different cities and states, and the business of life prevents us from spending much time together, but we remain close in heart and I believe that the lessons of the card table had a lot to do with that!
A couple of things I learned from this:
NEVER play cards with a Peterson, unless the rules are CLEARLY defined BEFORE you start the game. It seems like every time I would go visit, the rules of Rummy had changed… do you have to pick up the whole pile, or can you just pick up part of it. If you only pick up part of it, do you have to play the last card you picked up? It is a game of evolution and if you don’t participate on a regular basis, it evolves WITHOUT you and that makes it very hard to catch up then next time you play!
When dad got sick we set up the card table in the living room and it was a permanent fixture for many months. Anyone who came to visit was invited to play a hand. I have great memories of the fun and the interesting conversations.
He liked to say he “had a dog from every country”, which implied that he had nothing to match up. I finally figured out that this really meant he was up to something and the hand was going to be quick… like, over before you realize what happened, kind of quick.
Another thing he said a lot was “A Bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”. I have thought about this a lot over the years. What exactly did he mean by that? In cards, of course, it meant that it's better to have a lesser but certain advantage than the possibility of a greater one that may come to nothing.
I think the life lesson here, is that we have the eternal truths that give us a certain advantage in life. We should not trade that certainty for the possibility of something greater in the eyes of the world that will certainly come to nothing.
I think that by repeating things over and over while we played cards, he was trying to send us a bigger message.
That brings me to another great lesson from the card table … the importance of family. Family is also a certainty that should not be taken for granted and those relationships should not be traded for all the birds in the bush..
The card table was a gathering place and we frequently gathered. Once again another example of him doing the same thing over and over to teach us a life lesson… by spending hours at the card table, we formed bonds that were important to carry us through this life. It taught us that we need to gather often and enjoy those moments when family can be together, because when it boils down to it… that’s what it’s all about.
We came to this earth, to be organized in family units and help each other through the mortal journey. Some of our journey’s will take a little longer and some of us, like my sister, Brittney, came to this earth on a very brief journey. The goal is to learn the things we need to learn, while trying to live a life in such a way, that we have to opportunity to once again be gathered as a family unit on the other side of the veil.
I have thought a lot about the concept that he knew his time was limited and that perhaps he was trying to teach his kids some important life lessons by playing a simple card game and repeating the lesson over and over
The most important thing I learned from playing cards is how important it is for family time. It doesn’t matter if it’s playing cards, or sitting around shooting the breeze, it’s always good to spend time together and it’s worth every bit of effort it takes to get together.
Twenty years later my dad’s children are now somewhat scattered as we have all married and ended up in different cities and states, and the business of life prevents us from spending much time together, but we remain close in heart and I believe that the lessons of the card table had a lot to do with that!
How To Eat An Elephant ~ Chapter 4: The Miracle of Forgiveness
This would be one of those chapters that I mentioned earlier, that might be difficult to read and it was certainly difficult to write. This chapter probably could be written many different ways depending on whose perspective you are seeing it from. Looking back with the benefit of nearly 30 or so years of experience, this happens to be my perspective…
Much of my memory of my childhood took place during a time in my dad’s life when he was making some poor decisions, like drinking and partying with his friends. It seems like when a person gets caught up in this cycle, one bad decision leads to another and it becomes an out of control downward spiral. This led to him making some bad choices that caused a lot of hurt to the people he loved, especially my mother. I think most of the people who know my dad, already know that because of his transgressions, he was ex-communicated from the church. What most people don’t know is that it was his decision. He sat me down one night when I was a teenager and explained to me that he had made some mistakes and that in order for him to make things right, he had asked for this to be the course of action so that he could begin the process of righting the wrongs he had done. He viewed this not as a punishment, but an opportunity… and opportunity to start over. That was a big lesson for a dad to teach a young teenage daughter…. With few exceptions, no matter what you have done, there is a way to make amends and start over. It was a long process that took many years for him to be ready to start over and be re-baptized. It was a long process of forgiveness. He had to get to a point where he was humble enough to be able to forgive himself before he could have a fresh start.
One Christmas, he came into my room and handed me an invitation card. He told me to open it. It was an invitation to attend his baptism… on Valentine’s Day the following year. He asked me what I thought and told me he intended to give that invitation to my mom for Christmas. What an amazing gift. We had waited many years for this day, but the true gift was the man he had become through the process of repentance. He had learned to control his temper and he had stopped participating in the destructive behavior and hanging out with friends that chose a different lifestyle than the one he wanted to live. They were not bad friends by any means, they were good people and I have many fond memories of our families spending time together. I think the changes he made in his life earned him a new level of respect from these friends. He was a changed man, not perfect, but better.
Through this process, it was also an opportunity for those around him to have the chance to learn and grow and become better people as they had to find a way to let the Atonement into their lives and be able to come to a point where they could forgive him for his transgressions and the hurts that his choices caused those who loved him. Many people rallied around our family and offered guidance and unconditional love for my dad, and for his family. It was a hard thing for him to not hang his head in shame, but he set a great example for us of owning up to your mistakes and the healing power of the Atonement.
His life has taught me that forgiveness is not a single one time event. It is a process. How long that process takes is up to the forgiver. The person who wronged us may not ever ask us forgiveness, but we are required to forgive anyway. This process involves us communicating with God and turning over our hurts to Him. The Atonement is there for us to be able to let go of our hurts and allow mercy to take place, rather than demanding justice. Consider a balance scale with justice on one side and mercy on the other. Our task when going through the process of forgiveness is to try to find a balance between our demand for justice and our ability to extend mercy to the person that we need to forgive. If our demand justice becomes too heavy, then it tips the scale and there is not enough mercy to maintain a good balance. THIS is the process I am referring to. As our “forgiveness scale” tips up and down, up and down, eventually, with the help of the Savior, we will be able to balance our scale and THAT is when true forgiveness happens. This is also true when we need to go through the process of forgiving ourselves.
When my dad died, I was understandably sad and then when my sister died 2 years later, that sadness turned to anger. The only person I could blame and be angry at was God. I don’t believe that God gave my dad cancer, but I do believe that God could have taken the cancer away and cured Him….. if it had been God’s will. The same is true for my sister. I don’t believe that God caused her death, I have arrived at the understanding that her time on earth was predetermined and that it was simply her time to go. It has taken me a long time to find balance with this anger and realize that it wasn’t doing me any good by feeling this way. It only held me back in my own journey of spiritual growth.
My whole life I have been quick to anger. Perhaps I learned that from my dad. My dad figured out how to control that anger and be soft and kind and that is a lesson I am still trying to process. I can say that I have learned that it does no good to be angry at God. In order for us to forgive people who have wronged us, we need to have a conversation with God about that person and ask God to help us truly forgive that person. If we are angry at God, then calling on God to help us get over our hurts, is often harder than calling the person who has wronged us and perhaps even harder than extending mercy. If we want forgiveness, we have to be willing to offer forgiveness, it is cyclical in nature. If we are not square with God, then we can’t truly offer forgiveness and that breaks the cycle so then we also are not able to truly receive forgiveness.
I now realize that certain things are foreordained to happen in order to allow us to grow and develop to our full potential. My dad believed that he knew before he came to earth, what kind of pain and suffering he would have to pass through while dealing with cancer. He believed that he agreed to the deal because he saw, in the pre-existence, how his journey would touch and positively affect the lives of those around him. I am certain that many people have learned lessons from my dad’s journey and his example in life and perhaps his life ending so young was foreordained to help those around him realize certain lessons that they would not have learned by any other means…. Strawberries!!!
Much of my memory of my childhood took place during a time in my dad’s life when he was making some poor decisions, like drinking and partying with his friends. It seems like when a person gets caught up in this cycle, one bad decision leads to another and it becomes an out of control downward spiral. This led to him making some bad choices that caused a lot of hurt to the people he loved, especially my mother. I think most of the people who know my dad, already know that because of his transgressions, he was ex-communicated from the church. What most people don’t know is that it was his decision. He sat me down one night when I was a teenager and explained to me that he had made some mistakes and that in order for him to make things right, he had asked for this to be the course of action so that he could begin the process of righting the wrongs he had done. He viewed this not as a punishment, but an opportunity… and opportunity to start over. That was a big lesson for a dad to teach a young teenage daughter…. With few exceptions, no matter what you have done, there is a way to make amends and start over. It was a long process that took many years for him to be ready to start over and be re-baptized. It was a long process of forgiveness. He had to get to a point where he was humble enough to be able to forgive himself before he could have a fresh start.
One Christmas, he came into my room and handed me an invitation card. He told me to open it. It was an invitation to attend his baptism… on Valentine’s Day the following year. He asked me what I thought and told me he intended to give that invitation to my mom for Christmas. What an amazing gift. We had waited many years for this day, but the true gift was the man he had become through the process of repentance. He had learned to control his temper and he had stopped participating in the destructive behavior and hanging out with friends that chose a different lifestyle than the one he wanted to live. They were not bad friends by any means, they were good people and I have many fond memories of our families spending time together. I think the changes he made in his life earned him a new level of respect from these friends. He was a changed man, not perfect, but better.
Through this process, it was also an opportunity for those around him to have the chance to learn and grow and become better people as they had to find a way to let the Atonement into their lives and be able to come to a point where they could forgive him for his transgressions and the hurts that his choices caused those who loved him. Many people rallied around our family and offered guidance and unconditional love for my dad, and for his family. It was a hard thing for him to not hang his head in shame, but he set a great example for us of owning up to your mistakes and the healing power of the Atonement.
His life has taught me that forgiveness is not a single one time event. It is a process. How long that process takes is up to the forgiver. The person who wronged us may not ever ask us forgiveness, but we are required to forgive anyway. This process involves us communicating with God and turning over our hurts to Him. The Atonement is there for us to be able to let go of our hurts and allow mercy to take place, rather than demanding justice. Consider a balance scale with justice on one side and mercy on the other. Our task when going through the process of forgiveness is to try to find a balance between our demand for justice and our ability to extend mercy to the person that we need to forgive. If our demand justice becomes too heavy, then it tips the scale and there is not enough mercy to maintain a good balance. THIS is the process I am referring to. As our “forgiveness scale” tips up and down, up and down, eventually, with the help of the Savior, we will be able to balance our scale and THAT is when true forgiveness happens. This is also true when we need to go through the process of forgiving ourselves.
When my dad died, I was understandably sad and then when my sister died 2 years later, that sadness turned to anger. The only person I could blame and be angry at was God. I don’t believe that God gave my dad cancer, but I do believe that God could have taken the cancer away and cured Him….. if it had been God’s will. The same is true for my sister. I don’t believe that God caused her death, I have arrived at the understanding that her time on earth was predetermined and that it was simply her time to go. It has taken me a long time to find balance with this anger and realize that it wasn’t doing me any good by feeling this way. It only held me back in my own journey of spiritual growth.
My whole life I have been quick to anger. Perhaps I learned that from my dad. My dad figured out how to control that anger and be soft and kind and that is a lesson I am still trying to process. I can say that I have learned that it does no good to be angry at God. In order for us to forgive people who have wronged us, we need to have a conversation with God about that person and ask God to help us truly forgive that person. If we are angry at God, then calling on God to help us get over our hurts, is often harder than calling the person who has wronged us and perhaps even harder than extending mercy. If we want forgiveness, we have to be willing to offer forgiveness, it is cyclical in nature. If we are not square with God, then we can’t truly offer forgiveness and that breaks the cycle so then we also are not able to truly receive forgiveness.
I now realize that certain things are foreordained to happen in order to allow us to grow and develop to our full potential. My dad believed that he knew before he came to earth, what kind of pain and suffering he would have to pass through while dealing with cancer. He believed that he agreed to the deal because he saw, in the pre-existence, how his journey would touch and positively affect the lives of those around him. I am certain that many people have learned lessons from my dad’s journey and his example in life and perhaps his life ending so young was foreordained to help those around him realize certain lessons that they would not have learned by any other means…. Strawberries!!!
How to Eat An Elephant ~ Chapter 5: Don't Be So Busy Making a Living That You Forget to Make A Life
Growing up, my dad never really had one career that he did day in and day out. Most people don’t know that he had a degree in law enforcement from BYU. But he never used that as a way to support his family. My first recollection of him working is when he owned Peterson Oil. He had a tanker truck and he would go around the valley delivering fuel to farmers. I remember riding with him in the truck in the summer time while he was doing his deliveries…. When that ended, he was the delivery driver for Garrett Freight and he would deliver freight around the valley. (I’m still bummed that Dustin ended up with the Garrett chair….!!) He was also a delivery driver for Frito Lay and drove to neighboring communities to stock chips at grocery and convenience stores. My dad liked to have jobs that would offer him the flexibility to not be stuck in an office. He worked hard at his job and taught us the value of hard work. Because we didn’t have a money tree growing up, I remember doing things at a very early age to earn my own money. I would get up while it was still dark in the summertime and go pick raspberries and I worked at lots of different jobs such as fast food and cleaning motel rooms. I learned to work hard!
I don’t remember a time when money wasn’t tight. We didn’t go on grand family vacations to Disneyworld or Hawaii or Mexico, and when I was younger I was envious of my friends whose families did things like that, but looking back now….what we did do was so much better!!!
My dad loved two things… sports and the great outdoors.
In the winter time, the gym was our playground. He would find a reason to be at the gym almost every night. If he wasn’t playing city league or church ball, he was refereeing the games. My brothers and I would tag along and the bleachers and hallways at the gym on Main Street were where we played. As I got a little older, he always talked me into running the scoreboard or keeping the book.
In the summer time, our only limit to fun was our own imagination. The ballpark was our nightly hangout on the week nights and many weekends. My brothers played and my dad coached little league and he played city league and, like basketball, if he wasn’t playing or coaching, he was umpiring. We had lots of fun hanging out at the park. (We didn’t have handheld video games back then, in fact, I remember when he came home one day with a new TV that had Pong on it. We were the coolest kids on the planet because we had PONG!) Because we didn’t have anything electronic to take with us to the gym or the ballpark, we had to use our imaginations to keep us entertained for hours at a time.
My dad also lived to go camping. The woods became our playground almost every weekend. I have little recollection of what the adults did during the day when we were camping, but I have some very vivid memories of what the kids did.
The kids would scatter and do our own things and when we got hungry, we would find our way back to camp. I remember being appalled one time because aunt Pat put pickles in the tuna fish…LOL… but we played hard, so we were hungry and I ate every bite… not as bad as I thought it would be. We were always in a hurry to eat so we could get back to our imaginary lives, so dad taught me that I could finish lunch faster if I put the potato chips ON the tuna sandwich. That way you can grab the sandwich and be on your way and you didn’t have to wait around to finish the sandwich AND the chips!
We learned to use our imagination by doing some pretty creative things and most of the time, we got away with doing whatever we wanted. I remember one time, we were camped below the dam and a friend (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) and I decided it would be fun to build a little rock dam in the stream below the spillway so that we could create a pond of sorts to land in when we slid down the spillway on our behinds! We worked all day stacking rocks across the stream and building it up. It never really did anything except make a mess of the watercress. There wasn’t a lot of water coming over the spillway at that time…Just enough to let some algae grow in the center of the spillway, which made for a very slippery slide. It never occurred to us that the algae would stain our white shorts black and that we would totally get busted for doing something dangerous… not to mention ILLEGAL!!! My dad was not upset… he was very concerned that we had done something dangerous and that taught me to think about consequences before I planned any more dangerous (or slightly illegal) activities in the future. He also made us go back to the watercress and remove every rock that we had placed across the stream. He had a love and appreciation for the great outdoors and taught me to respect that and to enjoy being there, but also to leave it the way you found it and not be disruptive to nature.
My dad set an example of how important it is to work hard, but he also taught us to play hard. He never really made much of a living, but he understood the importance of making a life.
I have learned to appreciate the tiny moments because life ends too quickly. In hindsight, the lesson was there for me to learn growing up. I regret that I didn’t do a better job of abiding by the lesson while raising my own kids…. But the lesson is this: Take time to watch a Braves game, play catch with the kids in the back yard, go to their ballgames or sporting events to support them, play games together, sing like you know the lyrics…. (that is another lesson) Hug more, say I love you more, don’t leave things undone or unsaid… take time to create memories and traditions, because after a loved one moves on, that is really all we have left to cling tightly to… until we meet again!
I don’t remember a time when money wasn’t tight. We didn’t go on grand family vacations to Disneyworld or Hawaii or Mexico, and when I was younger I was envious of my friends whose families did things like that, but looking back now….what we did do was so much better!!!
My dad loved two things… sports and the great outdoors.
In the winter time, the gym was our playground. He would find a reason to be at the gym almost every night. If he wasn’t playing city league or church ball, he was refereeing the games. My brothers and I would tag along and the bleachers and hallways at the gym on Main Street were where we played. As I got a little older, he always talked me into running the scoreboard or keeping the book.
In the summer time, our only limit to fun was our own imagination. The ballpark was our nightly hangout on the week nights and many weekends. My brothers played and my dad coached little league and he played city league and, like basketball, if he wasn’t playing or coaching, he was umpiring. We had lots of fun hanging out at the park. (We didn’t have handheld video games back then, in fact, I remember when he came home one day with a new TV that had Pong on it. We were the coolest kids on the planet because we had PONG!) Because we didn’t have anything electronic to take with us to the gym or the ballpark, we had to use our imaginations to keep us entertained for hours at a time.
My dad also lived to go camping. The woods became our playground almost every weekend. I have little recollection of what the adults did during the day when we were camping, but I have some very vivid memories of what the kids did.
The kids would scatter and do our own things and when we got hungry, we would find our way back to camp. I remember being appalled one time because aunt Pat put pickles in the tuna fish…LOL… but we played hard, so we were hungry and I ate every bite… not as bad as I thought it would be. We were always in a hurry to eat so we could get back to our imaginary lives, so dad taught me that I could finish lunch faster if I put the potato chips ON the tuna sandwich. That way you can grab the sandwich and be on your way and you didn’t have to wait around to finish the sandwich AND the chips!
We learned to use our imagination by doing some pretty creative things and most of the time, we got away with doing whatever we wanted. I remember one time, we were camped below the dam and a friend (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) and I decided it would be fun to build a little rock dam in the stream below the spillway so that we could create a pond of sorts to land in when we slid down the spillway on our behinds! We worked all day stacking rocks across the stream and building it up. It never really did anything except make a mess of the watercress. There wasn’t a lot of water coming over the spillway at that time…Just enough to let some algae grow in the center of the spillway, which made for a very slippery slide. It never occurred to us that the algae would stain our white shorts black and that we would totally get busted for doing something dangerous… not to mention ILLEGAL!!! My dad was not upset… he was very concerned that we had done something dangerous and that taught me to think about consequences before I planned any more dangerous (or slightly illegal) activities in the future. He also made us go back to the watercress and remove every rock that we had placed across the stream. He had a love and appreciation for the great outdoors and taught me to respect that and to enjoy being there, but also to leave it the way you found it and not be disruptive to nature.
My dad set an example of how important it is to work hard, but he also taught us to play hard. He never really made much of a living, but he understood the importance of making a life.
I have learned to appreciate the tiny moments because life ends too quickly. In hindsight, the lesson was there for me to learn growing up. I regret that I didn’t do a better job of abiding by the lesson while raising my own kids…. But the lesson is this: Take time to watch a Braves game, play catch with the kids in the back yard, go to their ballgames or sporting events to support them, play games together, sing like you know the lyrics…. (that is another lesson) Hug more, say I love you more, don’t leave things undone or unsaid… take time to create memories and traditions, because after a loved one moves on, that is really all we have left to cling tightly to… until we meet again!
How to Eat An Elephant ~ Chapter 6: Don't Be Afraid of Snakes
Besides sports and camping, my dad also loved to hunt and fish. There are a couple of important rules to follow when it comes to hunting and fishing:
Rule #1…. Never, never, never hunt on Sunday… Bad things happen when you hunt on Sunday… It seemed like every time he broke this rule, even if it was just to go road hunting, something would break down or get stuck… I remember more than once, mom having to go rescue dad because he didn’t make it home when he was expected because he was stuck or broken down.
If someone ELSE invites you to go hunting on Sunday… don’t fall for it. Otherwise you may have to pay the consequences of “guilt by association”! A couple of times my mom had to hike out of the woods with him because she “went along for the ride”… This lesson was drilled into my head… just don’t do it… it’s not worth it.
A side note to Rule #1… ALWAYS tell someone where you are going in case they need to come rescue you… ESPECIALLY if you are breaking rule #1!
Rule #2… What happens at deer/elk camp, stays at deer/elk camp. This would include all pieces of clothing that are worn during camp as well as stories of what may or may not have happened… since this is an important rule, I am not allowed to share examples here, because that would be a violation of rule # 2…If you have been there you understand. If not, it is something that you just need to experience for yourself.
Rule # 3… Don’t moon your buddies who may have a camera in their hand. One time he went fishing with my brother and he was down by the water and my brother was up on a ridge. My brother was taking some pictures of the scenery and dad thought it would be funny to moon him at the exact moment my brother snapped the picture. No harm no foul, right? WRONG! My sister in law developed the film and left the pictures sitting on the counter. Her mother later came along and was looking at them. There was a small spec in the picture down by the water and she (my brother’s mother in law) asked, “What kind of animal is that?” HAHAHAHA! NEVER MOON THE CAMERA!!!
Rule # 4… This is probably the all-time most important rule to remember…
DON’T YELL SNAKE!!!
My dad was afraid of snakes! Seriously, deathly afraid of snakes… when I say deathly, I mean do-this-at-your-own-peril.
Since knowledge is power, we quickly figured out the joy of hiding behind something and yelling “SNAKE” whenever he walked by. One time, my brothers and I were playing in a nearby field and we caught a bunch of tiny water snakes and put them in a 5 gallon bucket by the back porch… we had no idea that snakes could just slither up and out of the bucket without a lid on it, so when we came back to check on them later in the day, imagine our surprise when we discovered the bucket empty! My dad was soooo mad. He didn’t go in the back yard or in the basement for weeks because he was afraid he would see one. We did find several of them in the basement dead and crusty over the next several months.
While we had a lot of fun teasing him about his fear of snakes, it was a very real fear for him. So real in fact, that he carried his pistol holster over his shoulder when his fished in case he saw a snake. And he always poked the bank with a stick to scare away anything that was slithering around before he climbed out of the water… this would be why it’s the most important rule… He had been known to draw his gun on someone if they came at him with a rubber snake….. He didn’t mean anyone harm, it was just an involuntary reaction that he had no control over.
So.. it was good sport to jump out from behind a door and yell SNAKE, but you had to make darn sure he wasn’t armed and dangerous when you did it!
This taught me that it’s ok to be afraid. My big strong dad was afraid of a little water snake. Fear is a real thing and you can’t let it paralyze you and prevent you from doing the things you love. It is important to learn to face those fears. Instinctively he knew that there were snakes in the water, but he went fishing anyway. He prepared himself (with his gun) in case he came face to face with the source of his fear, but he never let it stop him from doing something he loved to do.
Many times in my life, I have found myself afraid of something. As someone who suffers from anxiety, social situations are my “snake”. I have been known to have an anxiety attack in the grocery store if it is unfamiliar to me. I hate change and situations where I am not in control of the circumstances. Social situations and doing new things are very difficult for me and people often misinterpret me as being unsocial when in reality, I am just afraid. I try to draw on his strength and his example of not letting fear control my life and make me miss out on doing fun things because I am afraid of the unknown. It’s kind of funny that I can stand in front of a group of people and give a lesson or a talk and not even think twice about it, but one on one contact in social situations with people who aren’t in my normal circle of trust is almost as paralyzing to me as a snake was to my dad. My fear is not as extreme as his fear of snakes, and I don’t frequently go to the grocery stored armed, but the principle is the same. There are many times in life when we find ourselves in a situation where we might be afraid to get in the water because we are afraid of what might happen when we climb out of the water and we don’t know what may be lurking in the grass on the bank. But we can’t let that stop us from getting our feet wet. I am so grateful for my dad’s example of learning to face a paralyzing fear and knowing that you can still find a way to enjoy activities that can cause fear and anxiety. I have also found that as you do those uncomfortable things, pretty soon your comfort zone has expanded to include the very things, that at one time, seemed undo-able.
Rule #1…. Never, never, never hunt on Sunday… Bad things happen when you hunt on Sunday… It seemed like every time he broke this rule, even if it was just to go road hunting, something would break down or get stuck… I remember more than once, mom having to go rescue dad because he didn’t make it home when he was expected because he was stuck or broken down.
If someone ELSE invites you to go hunting on Sunday… don’t fall for it. Otherwise you may have to pay the consequences of “guilt by association”! A couple of times my mom had to hike out of the woods with him because she “went along for the ride”… This lesson was drilled into my head… just don’t do it… it’s not worth it.
A side note to Rule #1… ALWAYS tell someone where you are going in case they need to come rescue you… ESPECIALLY if you are breaking rule #1!
Rule #2… What happens at deer/elk camp, stays at deer/elk camp. This would include all pieces of clothing that are worn during camp as well as stories of what may or may not have happened… since this is an important rule, I am not allowed to share examples here, because that would be a violation of rule # 2…If you have been there you understand. If not, it is something that you just need to experience for yourself.
Rule # 3… Don’t moon your buddies who may have a camera in their hand. One time he went fishing with my brother and he was down by the water and my brother was up on a ridge. My brother was taking some pictures of the scenery and dad thought it would be funny to moon him at the exact moment my brother snapped the picture. No harm no foul, right? WRONG! My sister in law developed the film and left the pictures sitting on the counter. Her mother later came along and was looking at them. There was a small spec in the picture down by the water and she (my brother’s mother in law) asked, “What kind of animal is that?” HAHAHAHA! NEVER MOON THE CAMERA!!!
Rule # 4… This is probably the all-time most important rule to remember…
DON’T YELL SNAKE!!!
My dad was afraid of snakes! Seriously, deathly afraid of snakes… when I say deathly, I mean do-this-at-your-own-peril.
Since knowledge is power, we quickly figured out the joy of hiding behind something and yelling “SNAKE” whenever he walked by. One time, my brothers and I were playing in a nearby field and we caught a bunch of tiny water snakes and put them in a 5 gallon bucket by the back porch… we had no idea that snakes could just slither up and out of the bucket without a lid on it, so when we came back to check on them later in the day, imagine our surprise when we discovered the bucket empty! My dad was soooo mad. He didn’t go in the back yard or in the basement for weeks because he was afraid he would see one. We did find several of them in the basement dead and crusty over the next several months.
While we had a lot of fun teasing him about his fear of snakes, it was a very real fear for him. So real in fact, that he carried his pistol holster over his shoulder when his fished in case he saw a snake. And he always poked the bank with a stick to scare away anything that was slithering around before he climbed out of the water… this would be why it’s the most important rule… He had been known to draw his gun on someone if they came at him with a rubber snake….. He didn’t mean anyone harm, it was just an involuntary reaction that he had no control over.
So.. it was good sport to jump out from behind a door and yell SNAKE, but you had to make darn sure he wasn’t armed and dangerous when you did it!
This taught me that it’s ok to be afraid. My big strong dad was afraid of a little water snake. Fear is a real thing and you can’t let it paralyze you and prevent you from doing the things you love. It is important to learn to face those fears. Instinctively he knew that there were snakes in the water, but he went fishing anyway. He prepared himself (with his gun) in case he came face to face with the source of his fear, but he never let it stop him from doing something he loved to do.
Many times in my life, I have found myself afraid of something. As someone who suffers from anxiety, social situations are my “snake”. I have been known to have an anxiety attack in the grocery store if it is unfamiliar to me. I hate change and situations where I am not in control of the circumstances. Social situations and doing new things are very difficult for me and people often misinterpret me as being unsocial when in reality, I am just afraid. I try to draw on his strength and his example of not letting fear control my life and make me miss out on doing fun things because I am afraid of the unknown. It’s kind of funny that I can stand in front of a group of people and give a lesson or a talk and not even think twice about it, but one on one contact in social situations with people who aren’t in my normal circle of trust is almost as paralyzing to me as a snake was to my dad. My fear is not as extreme as his fear of snakes, and I don’t frequently go to the grocery stored armed, but the principle is the same. There are many times in life when we find ourselves in a situation where we might be afraid to get in the water because we are afraid of what might happen when we climb out of the water and we don’t know what may be lurking in the grass on the bank. But we can’t let that stop us from getting our feet wet. I am so grateful for my dad’s example of learning to face a paralyzing fear and knowing that you can still find a way to enjoy activities that can cause fear and anxiety. I have also found that as you do those uncomfortable things, pretty soon your comfort zone has expanded to include the very things, that at one time, seemed undo-able.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)