One
night in the early days of this new path of mine I was outside under a
cloudless, starlit sky. Deep in prayer, I found myself with a sudden, immense
desire to speak to my mom; who had passed away just over four years before.
I’ve never heard a voice booming from the heavens nor have I seen the clouds
part with trumpets blaring. But at that moment, I felt that some heavenly phone
was being handed to her. I didn’t hear a voice but I felt a voice saying, “Here
you go, talk to her.” I spoke long into the night, not seeing her face but feeling her smile.
Since
that night I have made many such prayer phone calls, as I like to call them. On
the way home from work on Easter morning I had what you could say was a
conference call. I spoke to my mom along with my departed grandfathers and
recently departed grandmother. Memories of Easter Sundays past flooded my soul
like I was flipping through a celestial photo album. I recalled stories Papa
Joe told me about having to hunt Easter Eggs indoors due to the early spring
snowfall in the Rocky Mountains. Memories of Mom making us Easter baskets well
into my twenties filled. I smiled as I thought of that ravenous look on Grandpa
Rudy’s face as he presided over the Gonzales family gatherings of family,
friends, and food, food, food. The man loved a good meal and loved his family
even more. And of course, the Sunday Best threads Grandma Helen would buy for
us every year. She was the only woman I knew who could get an eight year old
boy excited about new clothes that didn’t have lightning bolts on them.I drove the lonely highway home from East County I spoke of the lessons they taught me throughout my life. As I spoke of how I have applied those lessons to my life as a husband, father and human being, I also asked forgiveness for the times I lost sight of those lessons or ignored them altogether. I started to pledge that I would carry the torch they have passed to me but I stopped short of making that promise. I could not make a promise I could not keep nor do I feel they would want me to make such a promise. I realized that they would want nothing more than for me to carry my own torch. My torch was lit from theirs, which was lit by those of their parents and grandparents and on down the line. But I realized I must carry my own. Yes, I would carry my own torch, of my own design.
It could be an elaborate, worthy of a museum masterpiece of gold and jewels or it could be a stout piece of green Coastal Live Oak with a few strips of oil-soaked burlap wrapped around one end. Those of you who know me well know what my choice would be. But what I choose isn’t what matters to you, what matters is what choice your torch is. For you see, neither would burn brighter than the other. What you choose is what makes it yours.
When a loved one passes away, there are often differences in opinion of how things should be after the loved one has departed. It’s human nature and has been going on since Ooga’s family argued over whether he should be buried in his saber-toothed tiger jacket or his wooly mammoth robe. The one consensus, the one and often only thing everyone can agree upon is “They would want you to be happy.” It’s very simple and in this complicated world, keeping it simple is the surest way to keep that torch burning bright as a beacon of love, light and yes, happiness.
If each of us took even a few seconds a day, preferably first thing in the morning, to simply focus on being happy it will improve every aspect of your life in ways you have never imagined. To take a suggestion from authors Andy Andrews and Robert D. Smith; write a gratitude list. Keep a pen and paper next to your bed and write down everything you are grateful for that comes to mind. Do it, every morning. You will notice the change. You don’t even have to come up with new things every morning. It’s even better to see things appear on that list consistently. That just means you are extra grateful for those particular things.
Often I wake up quite moody, as my poor wife can attest. Why am I moody? Because I am tired. Why am I tired? Because I work late hours. Why do I work late hours? Because I have a family to support. So, entrenched in my own selfish thoughts, I wake up cranky and spend the better part of the day that way.
Andy Andrews has written “It is impossible for the seeds of resentment to take root in a grateful heart”. On the mornings I wake up and immediately add to my gratitude list, I wake up with a grateful heart. I am grateful to be chosen as patriarch of this growing branch of the Gonzales/Ress family tree. I am grateful to have a job to go to that puts a roof over our heads and a few bucks in my pocket for cotton candy and popcorn and pretzels at the Zoo. If any of you have about fifteen years with no plans, I’ll share the rest of my gratitude list with you. And I will be grateful for the opportunity to do it.
So as you know by now, the material of the torch is figurative. Yet what fuels the torch is very, very real. I will fuel mine with gratitude and when my torch flickers out, the torches of my children and their children will burn bright.
In closing, I would like to share a Native American proverb, which can also be found in nearly every indigenous culture around the world in some form or another.
A man is teaching his grandson about life. He said “There are two wolves in my heart, fighting for my soul. One is evil- he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego”. He added “The other is good- he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. The same fight is going on inside you and every other person." The boy asked his grandfather “Which one wins, grandpa?” The old man sighed and said
The one you feed the most…
