Now I realize my mistake!

Fifty years later, I see my mistake!  Well, it is way to late in the game to correct it, but I can look back on it and laugh.  Trust me, there are not a lot of mistakes that are not funny, but this one is.

Let me set the scene.  I had divorced my first husband and my 5 kids and I were living in the 5th street house.  I was working at the Red Carpet Restaurant.  I was dating a long legged guitar picker who was in a band that played around the county.  He was not the brightest bulb in the box, but he was a warm body and while he still lived with his mother and father,  he was a step up from nobody.

Christmas came and of course gifts were exchanged.   He arrived with his arms full from himself, his mom and his sister.  By the time the unwrapping was over, all the tags were lost.  I do not remember what all was in the pile, but I did know the tags were lost.  So here I set with 3 pairs of sturdy cotton underwear, a pair of electric scissors, and a new Bible and a study guide and tags that said, mom, sister and boyfriend..

 No clues.  All three gifts could be referred to as they.  The scissors were pink, the underwear were white, and the Bible and Study guide were black.    I was sure his sister had given me the Bible.  Which left him giving me cotton underwear which made sense because I needed new underwear and had remarked that I would buy some just as soon as I got my Christmas bonus.  He did not remember who sent what, so when I called his mom to thank her for the gift I was vague.

"Oh, thank you so much.  How did you know exactly what I needed?"
"Well, I thought they would come in handy.  I hope they are the right color.  They had several choices."
"Of course!  That is always a safe choice."
"They looked pretty durable so I got those."

For some reason, by the time the conversation reached this point, I decided she had given me the electric scissors.  I would go with that.
 

Then she said, "Well, I hope you make good use of them."
"Yes, I think I will use them tonight!"
"Good idea!"

Looking back, I could have said, "Listen, your dipwad son lost the tags and I have no idea what you gave me, but I am sure it is nice whatever it is, because I know you bought all three and just put their names on the tags."  But I didn't say that, did I?  Hell, no.

I was always a little sad, that she never became my mother-in-law, because I think I could have grown to like her.  But it was not to be.  It was a few weeks later I saw his sister and she asked how the scissors cut.  Aha!  She sent me the scissors.  That meant his mom gave me the Bible.  Since I could not keep my finger off that phone I called her to tell her how much I was enjoying her gift and how confident I was since I was using them every day.  She seemed a little strange after that conversation for some reason.  I thought she would be pleased that I was studying the Bible.

And then I decided to actually wear a pair of my new underwear.  When I opened the box and took out the top pair a gift tag fell out.  It said simply "Delores"  (or what ever her name was).  And then I remembered our conversations.  They took on a whole new meaning.

Our friendship seemed a little strange after that.  Not long after that the guitar picker wandered off in search of some big boobed woman with no kids and who liked to set it the bar and listen to him twang away on his guitar.  I moved on, but that Christmas has always lived in the back of my mind.  It is nothing I talk about but it still pops up in memory every now and then.  I am sure his mom is no longer alive so I can write about it now.  He may still be around, but who knows?  The whole thing is just one of those things that transpired and then was gone.  It was important at the time, and in hindsight was really nothing at all.

Just goes to show you that sometimes what really wasn't stays in memory and becomes just that, a memory.

Happy Birthday Delbert Leroy Bartholomew!

DELBERT LEROY BARTHOLOMEW

10/5/1937-10/31/1965

Some where I have a picture of my brother Jake in his Khaki pants and shirt.  Lord only knows where that is in this computer.  So this one will have to do.  In this picture, I am the only one left.  I worshipped my big brother; my big sister, not so much.  Jake was my hero.  I would like to say he was a lot of things, but he wasn't.  

This picture was taken before he sneaked up and goosed the horse which kicked him in the face leaving him with a scar he carried to his grave at the age of 29.  He ran away to the Army as soon as he could forge a birth certificate that would get him in with mothers signature.  He went to Aschaffenburg (sp) Germany where he and one of his friends managed to wreck a motorcycle and get sent home without a dishonorable discharge.  I was 15 when he came home. He fell in love and may or may not have married the girl, but they did have a son.  I fell in love and began my family and we sort of drifted apart.  Then he fell in love and may or may not have married that girl, but he did sire another son.  

To make a long story short, Jake was in a wreck on October 29, 1965.  He died on Halloween.  Dona Marie was one year old and Sam was 3 weeks.  Somewhere out there in this big world my brother left 2 sons the youngest being 9 months old when Jake died.  I have often thought of trying to find them, but I am sure they have lives that would just  be better left as they are.

So, if I seem a little flaky in October, just bear with me.  It will all sort itself out someday.

Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.

Words from my mother.  And taken as a sentence sound kind of cryptic, but explained by my mother, they made perfect sense.  Most of us are giving people and will share what we have with those who have less, or those who are in need.  At least I like to think that is the case.

Most of you also know that I would give you the shirt right off my back if I thought you needed it and I like to think you would return the favor and I am sure you would!  So what is this all about anyway?  What does it have to do with not letting one hand know what the other hand is doing?  I will tell you.  It has come to my attention that some people are watching their hands a little to closely and maybe not letting go of what they give to another.  I do not want to become one of those people.  As an example, if I meet a man on the street and he is cold, I will give him my coat.  At that point I will walk away.  I could hide around the corner to see if he maybe sells it and then goes and buys a beer, but I would never do that.  I have given it to him and it is his to do with as he sees fit.  Ideally, he will use it to keep warm which was my original intent.

Maybe he has a friend who needs the coat more than he does.  Maybe he will wad it up and set on it so he does not get in the mud.  Who knows the fate of the coat at this point.  What I am trying to say is that as Christians we are often moved to do things and give things.  When this happens, we must let them go, and walk away.  I recently learned of an instance where someone had given something and it was sold.  The giver was hurt that this had happened.  Oft times when gifts are given to charities they are then sold and the cash used for other things, like gas bills, groceries, or medicine.  Maybe school supplies for migrant children.  Maybe that shawl you knitted and gave to the nursing home and pictured a little old lady keeping warm on a cold night ended up in a silent auction.  Or maybe the director took it across town to someone who was freezing because the heat was turned off in their apartment.  Or maybe someone who did not need it at all, sold it and did go buy beer with it! 

I guess what I am trying to say is this:  If you give it away, then give it away.  Let it go.  We have to do our part in trying to make the world a better place, but we can not do it all.  If you give something to someone, it is not yours to control.  Let it go.  And if you think that person abused your gift, then next time give to someone  that you think will do better with your offerings.  You could go to the person who offended you and talk to them.  "I gave you such and such and I think it went to some place I did not intend it to go."  Let them tell you what happened, but you should know that discussing it with anyone who will listen is only casting doubt on yourself.  And that is where the not letting one hand know what the other is doing comes into play. 

Take your gift.  Lay it on the alter, or place it in someone else's hand and walk away.  It is not yours anymore.  Your heart is not burdened with worldly goods.  Forget about it and move on to the next person who is in need and you will be wiser for it.

Just some thoughts this morning.