A Beautiful Life... Well Lived...

I hear people say “life is short” all the time… Short? Really? Life isn’t short… in fact it’s the longest thing we’ll ever do. I know that might sound silly, but stop and think about it. We’ll live a while, think we are smart and then fall on our face time and time again, but a lot of times we end up getting it right, even if we don’t feel like it. When I was growing up, I had a grandiose idea about how things worked in the adult world and I just knew I had it all figured out when I was 5 years old. I knew daddies worked, and momma’s stayed home and kids played until the yard light came on down by the barn and Santa was real and he always seemed to know he had to show up at our house on the 24th, but we never saw him because strangely enough, we were always at the store with my dad buying cigarettes when he arrived. I grew older and things became a lot clearer through the years. Not a whole lot changed but I will always remember the Easter Sunday we woke my mom early, all excited about the Easter bunny showing up. Dad was working in Nebraska and she was still in bed. I don’t think she was happy about waking early and she wasn’t in the mood for the official hiding of the eggs so she opened the drawer on the nightstand next to her and threw a bag of candy out on the bed and began to spill the beans about Santa and the fabled bunny… I was crushed to say the least. I freaking lived for the Easter Bunny man… I sat there and took it all in and I knew she was right somehow, but what a blow to a kid, you know? I tried to keep it hid that I was sad, but the water in my eyes was all the evidence my sister needed to chide me for the next 12 years. My little mind had romanticized the whole Easter Idea and I had looked so forward to it, but it was such a letdown that year. I guess I eventually grew out of it, but I still remember being angry that life had suddenly become more complicated now and it probably would have been easier to swallow if I had received the news more gently, but the fairy tale had died, right there on a queen size blanket with a bag of individually wrapped candy, like a pet dog that had been run over in traffic. No remorse, no sympathy, nothing… With each passing day now, my life is slowly ending and sometimes it keeps me up at nights. I mean, here I am, in my early 40’s, I know how to invest money, I can rebuild an engine on a car or the inner workings of any faucet set in the house and I am keenly aware of when to plant okra, but I gotta tell you, the more I learn about life, the less I have figured out. This whole Easter bunny and Santa Clause business is confusing enough to anyone just starting out honestly, but if you throw in a 401K, the concept of throwing the perfect curveball or the ever changing fall television line up, then all of a sudden, you have a life that is a struggle to figure out. I have found so far that not many things in this life actually do make sense, but I think a life beautifully lived is like a fine work of art. It might look messy and lack detail at first, but when the artist adds each brush stroke, the good parts start to look even better. The artists have to go back and erase some of the bad stuff sometimes, so it’s best not to sweat the problems in your life… they will eventually work themselves out for the best anyway. Wisdom seems to come after we experience failure, heartaches are often the best roadmaps to triumphs and you have to shed a few tears before you can really smile. Yeah there’s guru’s out there who can give you steps to take and draw up the perfect guide lines for living a quality existence, but I think it’s easier than all of that…. I have found that if we Obey God, love our families, and laugh… a lot, then we’ll probably end up writing a pretty great story that our children’s children can tell and retell for years and years to come. I guess I have to admit that I no longer have things figured out like I did when I was 5. I mean this life is definitely confusing to say the least. Maybe my grandmother was right when she said that Melba toast and hot tea were the miracle drug for anything…. Okay, so she never said that, but if I ever get the opportunity to go on record? It’s something that will probably sound really cool to say when I’m old… ; )