I'm doing a little blog catch-up again. It's been a blur of a week, so I'll post or is it pre-date a few entries. School starts this week and I may be able to catch my breath!
So, this happened.
Zee and I were getting out of the Expedition at the mall this afternoon, so that she could do a bit more school shopping. (We take it a bit at a time, so that I can keep up with them!) As we were stepping out of the truck, I decided not to carry my purse, but just my iPhone, which has the leather wallet case. I hate this case! It's been nothing but a pain! Things slide out of it all the time. I've lost my debit card twice, lost my temple recommend and a few other things. NEVER would I get this again and it was $60! BIG waste of money! ANYWAY, I dropped my phone, it hit the curb next to the truck. I picked it up and, as I did, said to Zee, "I'm betting I just broke my screen." I've had a cellphone since Quayd was born. And NEVER, not once have I broken a phone! This three month old 6-plus with the most expensive case I've ever bought and it shatters. I was SICK!!!!
We hopped back into the truck and went straight to the ATT store and quickly discovered that the insurance I pay for each month on the phone has a $200 deductible! Um, did they want to mention that when you sign up for it!? I'll have a new phone here in a day or two, but seriously, I. WAS. SICK!!!!
I took a picture of it with my iPad and sent it to Doug, with a text, "So, this happened." He called an hour later, "You broke your phone? Dang." Then, he went on to caution me to be careful that I didn't get cut by the shards of glass. (I already had cut my ear and my index finger twice, by then.) I explained the process of getting it replaced. Not once did he ever say an upset word. He didn't complain. He didn't act frustrated. He was just sad that I had to deal with the replacement and will have to be careful with my phone until the replacement arrives.
It's really a strange thing. I didn't worry or even think about Doug getting upset over things like this. BECAUSE. He never does. It was an accident. He knows that accidents happen. We were glad for the insurance, even if it does mean paying the deductible. BUT, I never worry about him getting made.
As I was chatting with Carol about it, tonight, I recalled an incident in my life that was "one of those moments" where your entire perspective in life changes... a paradigm shift. This was the day that I realized that I had been brought up in fear.... fear of getting in trouble, getting punished, getting hit, spanked, beaten (both physically and verbally, always emotionally) whatever you want to call it.
When I was about twenty-five, my aunt and uncle (brother and sister) were visiting me in Utah from North Carolina. They had driven across the country in Aunt Sue's Cadillac. We decided to go to SLC for a day of shopping and Aunt Sue had me drive since I knew my way around the city and she'd driven enough. When we arrived at Trolley Square, I parked and handed Aunt Sue her car keys. She put them in her purse. She asked me to pop the trunk. I did, then, I pushed to button on the door and locked the car as we got out. She then tossed her purse into the trunk so that she didn't have to carry it. Just as we closed the trunk, we all looked at each other and realized that we had just locked the keys in the trunk! I was horrified! HORRIFIED!!!
I stood there in a state of panic! I apologized over and over and over! "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sooooo sorry!" Aunt Sue and Uncle Bobby were stunned by my frightened and, pathetically irrational, response to the situation. Aunt Sue said, "Baby, relax. It's no big deal. We'll call a locksmith or tow truck to get the keys. Let's just go on in and have a nice dinner while we wait." Uncle Bobby kept telling me to calm down because I was visibly shaking. We went inside and ate at this wonderful little french restaurant and had the best time shopping. They never gave it another thought, other than to tell me to calm down and not worry about it every time I apologized again and again.
Here's the paradigm shift...I remember the shock I felt that no one called me "stupid" or any other names that went along with it. No one hit me. No one raised their voice. No one blamed me!!! No one was even upset, besides me. And looking back, I can see that it wasn't even me who'd locked the keys in the trunk. But, all of my life, until I was a married woman, it wouldn't have mattered that it wasn't really my fault. It would have been my fault and it would have been big trouble for me. "You should have thought! You shouldn't have let me put it in there!" yadayadayada.
I recall telling Doug the whole story later that night when we were got home, and the feelings of relief I'd felt, along with the fear and guilt that I'd felt all afternoon. This took me days to get over! Yet, the more time went on, the more I realized that when I was late, Doug never got upset. When I made a mistake, he never raised his voice or criticized me. I looked back over the first few years of our marriage, previous to the key incident and I realized that he had never ever gotten upset with me for making an innocent mistake. And it was a turning point in my life. (Note: my mother was doing the best she could. I honestly believe that. Forgiven, and still working on the forgotten part. Things like today bring it back up, but... well, read on.)
I began to realize that a mistake is a mistake! We joke in our house that if you spill milk, "You're name is Mud." (Doug hates the smell of sour milk.) If you spill milk in our house, the reaction you get is a resound chorus from everyone in the room, "Ooooo! Muuuuud!" We all laugh, it gets cleaned up, it's over! Period!
So, today, on the day that we picked up the van, after the transmission has just been repaired, and the Expedition started leaking anti-freeze like a sieve and I broke my gazillion dollar cellphone, Doug said, "Man, Bam! Bam! Bam! We've been hit." His next words were, "Well, at least the insurance will help with the phone. And the tranny didn't cost as much as we thought it would. And I think I can fix the Expedition." Then end. No fear on my part. No anger on his. I love that man! I love that he's patient and such an example of kindness and patience and tolerance! I love that I've had thirty-eight years of making mistakes without being punished for them! And I make plenty of mistakes! Deep sigh! Big smile!
Anyway, just for today, be a little more patient. A little more tolerant. No use crying over spilled milk. Or locked keys. Or broken phones. Accidents happen. Life is good.