A Line of Gold Thread

The house is still this morning except for the heater which I feel blowing on the side of my neck.  I get up to turn down the thermostat and am reminded once again of how thankful I am for this new programmable model.  My dad installed it just the other day.  When I come downstairs at 6:15 in the morning, the house is already warm.  I think of it as his warm hug each morning.

One day I mentioned how I would like to have a programmable thermostat, and, true to form, Daddy came to the rescue.  He had an extra one in his stash of odds and ends, and offered to bring it over and install it.  Daddy does anything he can to make my life better.  Sometimes he calls just to see if there is anything he can do for me that day.  It might entail driving me around when my toe was broken, fixing something in the house, or just having lunch at the hot dog place with me and Mom.

When I was three years old, he was in the sleeper of an 18-wheeler and his partner fell asleep at the wheel.  Daddy’s back was broken in the accident.  I don’t remember much about it except for sitting on top of his full-torso cast and knocking on it.  His back hurts a lot now and he has to be careful not to aggravate it, so he is limited in his activities.  Yet he always finds time to help and goes out of his way to share his time and infinite skills with me.

We have installed numerous light fixtures, water faucets and ceiling fans together.  He has hung at least 15 windows in my house.  This is how he shows his great love for me.  It is the largest thing about him.

He is thin, the fat and muscle shrinking away with age.  His gait is affected by his back pain and peripheral neuropathy in his feet.  But his eyes are the clearest, brightest blue I have ever seen, his white hair is full and as gorgeous as a lion’s mane, and his smile the same as I always remember – lighting up his whole face when he sees me.

I know Daddy’s love for me is pure and steady and deep as a long, slow-moving river.  But his love for my mother is most remarkable.  It is the rudder by which he guides his life and his moments.

They have been together for over 65 years.  He prefers her company over anyone’s.  They don’t always agree and I am sure they have their own issues, but they remain as steadfastly together as swans who mate for life.

Daddy is very quiet and speaks only when he has something worth sharing, except for when just a few family members are together and he readily joins in the conversation. His voice is gravelly and he cannot produce much volume because of a paralyzed vocal chord.  But he never misses an opportunity to say, “I love you,” or “You be pretty, now.” 

My dad, who can fix anything and who loves with greatness, can easily melt into the background.  But it is those people in the background who provide the unwavering love that keeps the rest of us afloat – a firm anchor tethering us when we need it.  He provides my grounding and shows me that love is the most important thing.  I hope I can come close to his grand capacity for what he teaches every day.

I love you, Daddy.

There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.  ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994

Fierce Grace

The sister of my soul shared a beautiful sentiment with me, so I give her credit here.  She imagined how different it would be seeing other people through God’s eyes, not through the filter of our own experiences.

That made me think about my family and how our history and daily interactions result in blinders and filters on my eyes.  There are always minor irritations, flat-out anger and miscommunication when you live with someone – or even when you don’t.  

Every night my husband turns off the NUMLOCK on my keyboard and the next morning I input transactions into Quicken that have no numbers.  Every night he checks his email and finds the NUMLOCK key turned on.  We both mutter under our breath about the daily irritation. God must think we are terribly petty creatures who completely miss the magnificence of the humans who share our most intimate spaces.

I envision how God sees us.  Our Creator surely looks upon us with love, whole-hearted acceptance and grace for our shortcomings.  That is how I perceive my Creator – full of grace.  Do I have simple, no-strings-attached grace for my family?  Or for people I don’t even like?  Or for telemarketers and foreign technical support?  Don’t even get me started on that rude woman in the subway.  Do I even have enough grace in my entire being to lovingly deal with a NUMLOCK standoff?  Some days I wonder.

The same wise friend also talks about “fierce grace.”  Ferocity is “unrestrained zeal or vehemence; furiously active or determined.”   Imagine being determined to see all the people you meet with eyes of grace.  I aspire to live that fierce grace, but am not totally successful.  Well, marginally successful if I am honest about it.  But I am more aware that the people in front of me are beneficiaries of God’s grace and therefore my own should follow.  I need to walk the walk with a little more “unrestrained zeal.”

Perhaps we must consciously encounter each individual aware that our interaction may bless us both in some way.  How differently would we answer the telephone if first we acknowledge that one of God’s finest creations is on the other end, and ask ourselves how this exchange can result in a blessing?  How often do we answer the telephone with irritation at the interruption? 

We may find that life looks very different when we follow a path of fierce and conscious grace.  I can only imagine.

PS – I decided to turn NUMLOCK off.