A Dollar In My Pocket

I was talking with someone today, they had pair of vintage dungarees accidentally disposed of. I know the back story and even helped trying to find such a pair. I understood, empathised and advised how to put it into perspective. I have lost some things in my life that at the time were quite devastating. It reminded me of how small things can seem huge.

I was off shopping for Christmas presents when I was 12. I had my own money I had saved, $8.00. I had a job where I got paid $1;00 per day for delivering groceries on a behemoth of a bicycle. On this day I had bought all the presents I needed and had one dollar left. I felt like a rich man, I reached into my pocket and out it fluttered, quickly scooped up by the person behind me whom when I asked for it back said “finders keepers”. I was devastated, I even went to the Police who said sorry sonny, no proof, can’t help. That was it. In the scheme of things it didn’t matter as I had bought everyone a present, the last $1.00 was going to possibly buy me an ice cream soda. Now why would I remember this 50 years later, even now as I think about it I remembered an earlier loss of a coping saw, brand new and left on a bus. Another incident occurred the week of my first wedding (I know married more than once the loss in that is a whole nother story). I was in town to pick up the suits. I got to the shop and reached into my pocket for the $60:00 and it was gone, I rushed off to backtrack my steps but came back empty-handed, the proprietor said I see you have a cheque book sir, I said yeah but not the money in it to pay for the suits, he said post date it for two weeks and then we will worry about it then. Although I was relieved and thankful the fact that it has stuck in my memory indicates to me that it was a significant blow.

I have yet to work out why some of my most embarrassing, hurtful and frustrating moments seem to be indelibly scorched into my memory. Sure there are moments of triumph and wonder that still reside there. Perhaps I will do some reading about it as I think it is an important factor and can bog us down or leave us stuck when what is essentially a moment in time can impact us in a big way yet the thing is really trivial. I know it didn’t seem trivial then and everything needs perspective however the biggest perspective is that we come into this world with nothing and we take with us out of this world nothing material.

I have a judeo-christian set of beliefs about this life however my beliefs about the next are pan, that is they will pan out in the end. In many ways it is not about what we lose in this life it is about what we leave behind. What is our legacy? What memories do we leave behind for others? What impact on others do we leave behind? It is those things that really matter. I am not talking about money here, I am talking about things that help lives change. It is those moments that cancel out feelings of loss. Looking back and seeing the impact on others, (sometimes we will never see that impact).

Psychologist Julius Segal, in looking at what helps children overcome adversity, wrote that “one factor turns out to be the presence in their lives of a charismatic adult — a person from whom they gather strength. And in a surprising number of cases, that person turns out to be a teacher”. Being an influence that overcomes the adversity of others is not limited to teaching we must remember that if we mourn the loss of $1:00 how much more we must celebrate the people in our lives who bring the gift of overcoming adversity. In doing so and realising this we need to be intentional in doing this in any way we can, whether it be small or large actions. We never know when the smallest act can make a difference.

With love

Paul

Am I Radio Rental?

I saw a Psychiatrist earlier this year, many of you may be as surprised as I was when he said that I was completely normal and sane.  I am still not convinced about that, I guess normal comes in many shades and as for sanity

Loss and grief, no advice here just my perspective, sorry about the length…

Losing a loved one is something that comes to us all, for some it happens early in our lives, for others later.  Some losses are felt keener than others, my mother died at an early age, my father at 80, both losses for me, my mum’s was felt more acutely.  The loss of my brother was devastating.  Loss comes not just through death,

When is enough?

How many times must I forgive my brother, Lord?   So says Peter in  a question to Jesus Howmanytimes, Peter postulates a good number up to seven times my Lord? Jesus replies not up to seven times, Peter is probably thinking phew that is not so hard then when Jesus hits him with the knockout,

Opinions Can Be Like Farts

I don’t mean this to be offensive, but. Words that often accompany a probe, no not an alien impregnating you or stealing your information,

Not another bloody God botherer!

Staggering,stumbling and swaying, I saw the figure in the distance, drunk…. perhaps, as I get closer I see a familiar figure,pastel blue high waisted track pants, pink turtle necked skivvy that is tucked into her pants,

A Prayer for Victor, cold charity?

Hunched down, out of the wind I saw him, rearranging his bags to make room, the bitter, biting, wind kept at arms-length for just a bit, not for long now though as he would have to make a move soon.  I know him by name and just a little of his story, I just drove on, just another day.  It had been a frustrating day for me and I was grumbling inwardly about life till I saw Victor.

Perched out of the wind by a local liquor store, Victor was taking his purchases out of their packing and distributing them into his bags, Victor is dependent on alcohol, he was preparing to start walking, I am not sure where to, there’s no night shelter in Morrinsville, and Victor told me he is sleeping rough at the moment.  At that time and place my worries and frustrations were put into perspective. I know all the rhetoric, about choice and consequences, and at times have probably chanted it, I hope not too loudly.

I have met many Victors over the years, I have tried to help some, had some live with me, counselled some, cried with some and for some, even seen death take some.  Addiction is a terrible thing, I am so glad that I have never been in that place.  I had an internal conversation with myself about Victor, I wondered where he was going to sleep, was he hungry, would he stay warm and I drove on.  I have given money to him before, dumb I know because I am pretty confident about what happened to that money.

Victor looks like an everyday guy, Just a bit rough around the edges but with the telltale blood vessels bright red in his face, he could be a dad, husband, grand dad, I don’t know, not that I don’t care but I am too busy.  There I said it, just too busy.

It is not that I don’t care, or I couldn’t help, there is always enough to give someone a meal I just know.  Victor has people who care about him and are trying to assist him.  I know some of them, they will be encouraging him, they will be giving him some food, and a listening ear, There is some help available but Victor has to want it.  It is unlikely that he will change in the near future, I think he battles with some mental illness as well, but in my experience most people in addiction don’t change until the pain of living in that life becomes more than the pain of change,

I saw Victor again yesterday, huddled out of the wind, waiting for, well just waiting, I think for someone he knows, and he was probably going to ask for something, food or…. I said a quick hello but avoided his eyes as I hopped into my warm car and went home to my warm house and got ready for my warm food.  If I had stopped and said hello I would have been compelled to help him, I just can’t say no but like Victor I was also driven by fear.  I think that it is the fear of change that keeps him in his addiction, and for me it is the fear of consequence that stopped me saying hello, I know I would have had to do something and I just don’t want to be in that place.

I can justify it anyway I want, I am a sole parent, I am busy, I don’t have much money, I help a lot of other people, it won’t make a blind bit of difference difference anyway, nothing will change, all true, however at some level do I have a responsibility, I pay tax the Govt can help him, is that enough? Oh the church can help him is that enough? It is his choice, is that enough?  In the end I turned my back after I said hi, I drove away back into my life, I said a quick prayer, is that enough? Well I know the answer to those questions but I will not utter it, I know that I am just one person, I wish I was more than that at times, but I also prayed that he didn’t freeze to death somewhere, pathetic really but that’s all I had in me.  I guess it makes me human, certainly makes me think.

Peace and love people,

Paul

RIP Uncle Nelson

This morning we got the news, my Uncle Nelson had passed away, it was expected, he had a battle with cancer, I am not sure of the details as time,distance and life has meant that I have not seen much of Nelson and his wife Mary.  Aunty Mary is one of my mums sisters, one of 14 so over the tears we have had our share of death over the years, and no doubt we shall see some more.  As I was reflecting on Nelson’s life today there was one outstanding memory I have.  I must have been 11 as Nelson and Mary didn’t have children at the time.  My mum informed me I was going camping with them.  An unusual occurrence for me and a real treat.  I can remember a few details vividly.  We stayed just out of Thames in an old school tent, I can’t recall the car they had at the time,a Holden or Vauxhall seems to come to mind.  I remember the cotton sleeping bags, the crowded camp ground and pipis (a shell fish) cooking in a pot.  I think Nelson was a keen fisherman.

I would see Nelson and Mary at family celebrations (and funerals) family orientated and from what I see they were good parents, two fine children.  I know that we often tend to lionise the dead and I am sure that Nelson had his challenges as well as his strengths but I can only talk about what I saw. What I saw was a man with a ready smile, he was always kind and interested in my life when we caught up.  He was a pretty ordinary kind of a guy, no airs and graces that I ever saw, these things are not unusual in the people I know.  The one thing that impressed me above all else was the very simple strong faith that he shared with his wife.

We talked about it at one family gathering and he said that he knew he wasn’t perfect, he had his problems but he was in his words forgiven and lived in the grace of God.  Now I don’t know what your spiritual beliefs are, and in reality it matters little, what I saw with Nelson was genuine, no pretence about who he was or wasn’t, just a simple message about the love of God.  I admired him for it, particularly his honesty about who he was.  Others no doubt will have many stories to tell about Nelson, I just wanted to acknowledge the input and impact he made on my life, one of many who have done so but I am grateful for it.  The fishing trip was important to me as was the last in depth conversation I had with him.  I hope to be there for the celebration of his life.

To Aunty Mary, Daniel, Leslie and family much love in your time of loss, even when you are prepared for it, loss hits hard. To Nelson, rest well, I will remember you.
Now I have an update, Got my ears boxed by Aunty Mary ( figuratively) I didn’t call her Aunty Mary all through the blog post, well writing conventions and voice apart, no disrespect meant, arohamai, Arohanui ki te Whanau. Na naku noa

Paul

A Bed and a Dresser

“No problems shifting these days” he quipped, “all I have is a single bed and a set of drawers”, I don’t know what I am going to do, my daughters don’t want me.

Fried Rice for Dinner

I bought dinner tonight, chicken fried rice to be precise.  It is a rare occasion in my house, my children are all away for the weekend, no one to cook for, it would have been nice for me to get away as well but it just didn’t work out that way.