Thanksgiving

In my life, I have been very good at remembering the wrongs done to me by various people. I think that, while it's not the healthiest stuff to carry around in our minds and hearts, it's natural. As I was walking and having quiet time (me and God) this afternoon, it occurred to me that I should be more mindful of harboring the good deeds done to me. So with that in mind, I started thinking back over my life of the range of people who have done something that still brings me joy today.

Joyce Hurley, my chorus teacher in Andalucia Elementary School taught me great songs that I still can sing. Mrs. Hurley cussed in front of me one time. I’ll never forget that. I was playing Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady in the 7th or 8th grade. We were talking about the fact that the show was double cast. I don’t recall exactly what we were discussing but I know that she told me that Debbie (the other Eliza) was “damn good and I knew it.” I actually thought I was much better. She put me lovingly, and in an adult way (she said “damn”!) in my place. I maturede a lot that season.

Lucy Linder, my French teacher at Alhambra High School hired me to housesit for her. My own place! In HIGH SCHOOL! I treasured the privacy and independence of having my own place for weeks at a time (Miss Linder took long trips). The drawback was she had a minimum of nine cats at a time. I remember one other funny thing about house sitting for her. She recommended me to the dean of girls at our Alhambra. I did not know this. I only knew that I was summoned to her office one afternoon. You did not get called to see Mrs. (Juanita) Lipton unless you had been caught smoking something or skipping something (like a class or a period). I sat outside her office while she berated some girl for something. I was running over all the possibilities of why she wanted to see me. Did Sandy, Debbie, Carolyn and I take too long at Taco Bell for lunch? Did I park in her space? When she called me in, she was all smiles and asked me if I’d house sit for her. Whew . . .

Pastor Bud Abrams taught me a couple of priceless lessons. During my junior year in high school things went bad between me and my best friend. We went in to see Bud for advice. He asked us to write down our grievances on paper which he furnished. I needed a second page, much to my friend’s dismay. When we finished writing he took the pages. We anxiously awaited him to read them and lay into the other. He folded them both up and tore them. Our jaws dropped. We protested. He calmly told us that this is what God does everyday with our sins and other shortcomings and we needed to learn how to do it too. We were united not only in our astonishment of what Bud had done, but in our love of Bud, God and, truly, always and still, each other. It got hard and I remember asking Bud how to carry on through such troubles. (A brief synopsis of what I was going through – my friend decided to start drinking and sleeping around in high school and shunned my friendship for other girls who behaved the same way.) Bud told me to “Sit back and let God love you.” Sounds simple but look at your own life and see the power of love.

If it weren’t for My piano professor at Grand Canyon College, Dr. Paul Paige, I may have never taught piano. He flat out told me one day that I should teach and handed me a name and phone number and that, my friends, is where it all began. He also got me this incredible job turning pages for the Sun City Fine Arts Society which put me at the keyboard of many fabulous players (and one harpist). I got to meet some huge artists like Chrisopher O’Reilly and Joshua Bell.

My piano students were a constant source of joy. I know, dear students, that I spent plenty of time harping on your not practicing or doing this or that right, but listen to this. One of my favorite memories is when one of you would prove me wrong. I’ll explain. Many times a student would request a song that was levels too difficult for them. I would often acquiesce with the warning that it may be too much. I loved returning the next week to see progress, especially when it turned into a recital or other performance piece. I appreciate every meal offered and given. I am humbled to remember how many times I was greeted at the door with smiles when I was 30 minutes late or had flat forgotten to show up the previous week. I cherish every picture, drawing, flower, piece of candy and gift of any sort ever given to me. I would wear them, eat them, hang them up (whichever was appropriate) with pride and joy.

My parents showed the kind of love and devotion that, I believe, only parents can have. When I was in high school there was a summer during which I was house sitting for Lucy Linder on the east side of town and starring in a musical in the community theater on the west side of town. These were the days when Phoenix had two freeways. One ran north-south and was located rather centrally, the other ran east-west and was located far south. The theater and Lucy’s house were north. This meant that every night, my full-time working parents had to take turns picking me up from practice on the west side after 10 PM (when we finished on time) and drive me the 30 or so minutes to Lucy’s house. They then had to pick me up the next day from Lucy’s house and drive me back for rehearsal. What did I get out of this? The temporal glory of a starring role in a musical and income for house sitting. What did my parents get? Sleepless nights.
To my students who are older and still living at home. Thank your parents more often. I look back at that time and I’m honestly not certain I even thanked them. It’s easy. Repeat after me, “Thanks, mom.” “Thanks, dad.”

Most of all I treasure all the people who have told me the truth. I mean the nitty-gritty difficult truth when it wasn’t easy on either of us. I am a better person because you did. If you had not told me that I was out of line, rude, negative, expecting too much, etc. I would still be the self-absorbed, selfish, vindictive, demanding monster I was in my twenties. We need to be able to tell each other the truth, especially when it is wrapped in love and concern. We have to be able to hear the truth and think on it. There are so many people who cannot talk with their neighbor, their son or daughter or friend if they do not agree on the topic. These are the same people who want world peace.

These things are so much better to keep lingering in our hearts than old gossip, lies and assorted abuses.

Happy Thanksgiving. I love you all.

P.S. During the time between Thanksgiving and the New Year I will NOT, repeat, NOT be reporting any of my dietary decisions. Thank you for your understanding.