People

I Could Not Do It Alone

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Writing in a journal has never been an activity I could find consistency with.  I must have a dozen journals with the early pages filled and then nothing afterward.  My entries are haphazard.  Sometimes I would write fairly consistently and at others skip months, and even years without writing.  At random I picked one of those journals up this morning and began to read.   

February 4, 2001 Ritz Carlton Hotel, Atlanta,  Beginning or Ending? 
Ending – the way I have lived and the thoughts I have…. Have not gotten me to the place I seek.  I have been blessed with the fortune to not have to work and soon, within 2 years or so (age 50) I will leave my profession to seek the life… the peace I need.

Beginning – I am only now realizing the illusion I have chased.  Peace must come from within me.  Nothing material on Earth nor anyone can give me what I seek: the balance, the peace, the strength of wisdom and knowing. 

February 7, 2001 7:25am
The ‘path’ makes such logical sense and speaks to my heart (Buddhist Eightfold Noble Path), yet it is difficult to follow.  Old habits and emotions are strong and I can only beat them back at times. 

February 8, 2001 8:05am
Finding it sometimes difficult to gain the determination to meditate each morning.  All old habits die hard.

March 2, 2001
Just spent two weeks in Europe… Netherlands and Poland.  Drifted back to smoking all the time.  Need to get back on track.  _____’s immaturity is a big problem for me and I am having great difficulty dealing with it.  Her child-like way is both appealing and repulsive.  Such a paradox.  Need to focus on me to find solution and let her focus on her.  Unsure of outcome.

Over two years later……

June 30, 2003 Monday 7:30am
And I begin again.  After several years of at times being focused on my practice alternating with times of loss of focus.  I begin again.  Quit smoking for 9 weeks last summer and started back.  But need to quit.  _____ and I continue the roller coaster.  Three weeks ago after returning from Europe she seems to have “got it” and opened her full heart.  I am skeptical, but hopeful.  Still feeling a longing, wishing to be happy, but yet lost and not knowing how to accomplish it. 

July 1, 2003 Tuesday
Work is sending me back to counseling.  I’m told I’m not open, approachable and react badly to others.  I’ve tried so hard to be liked and to be a good boss and leader.  Bad economic times seem to go on and on in the market.  Very tough.  Somehow I have to get through.  I can’t afford to get fired.  I wish I understood better.  I wish I knew why I have this gnawing feeling inside all the time.  Chronic discontent.

  • I was fired in late August, 2003 from a company I had been employed by for almost 20 years. 
  • October and November, 2006.  I finally dealt with my “stuff” by spending five weeks at a healing place called “The Meadows” in Wickenburg, Arizona.  Miracles happen there and at least two happened for me.  I came home a changed man

September 9, 2009
Interesting date.  9-9-9. Nine’s have always been a lucky number for me.  Raining and lightning now.  Hoping the hot Oklahoma weather is almost over for this year.  Life is good.

Sept 29, 2009
Played hooky from work.  Came home about 12:30pm.  Rested.  Went to bed at 8:45pm.  Slept 10 hours.  Feel great.

February 11, 2011 Tulsa
____ (son) visiting.  Having fun.  Proud of my son!  Went to see Ozzy Osbourne last night.  Very good.  Lots of snow still around.  Fourteen inches last week.  Six inches this week.  Lows of minus eleven!

Revisiting my old journal reminds me where I used to be and to appreciate where I find myself today.  There is much gratitude to not be stuck “back there” anymore.  For so long I knew something was wrong, but had no idea what to do.  My determination would swell to where I was convinced to be at a new beginning.  Then over and over within weeks I fell back into old habits and ways of being.  Each time failure only made the next attempt that much more difficult.

In the journal before I faced my demons in 2006 and then some years afterwards I am able to clearly discern a big different.   The three short entries written 2009 and 2011 are short, light and reflect a happier and more contented man. 

My life has not turned out the way I thought it would and it is far from perfect.   Divorce, injuries and recovery, financial challenges and life unfolding far differently than I once anticipated has me today still working fulltime.  I am quite a long way from being able to retire now.  That’s OK.   I have learned happiness is not about what is happening in my life.  It is all about my attitude toward what is happening.  That fact combined with the people I love and who love me sums up what I have come to know as at least three quarters of the recipe for a good life. 

The BIG lesson I learned along the way I will never forget:  I COULD NOT DO IT ALONE.  All those years I tried to fix myself ended up meaning little compared to what happened when I finally accepted help from others.  Thank you all for your love and assistance.

Its seems to be shallow and arrogant for any man in these times to claim he is completely self-made, that he owes all his success to his own unaided efforts.  Many hands and hearts and minds generally contribute to anyone’s notable achievements.  Walt Disney

 

What Do Men and Women Want?

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

I ran across some information a couple of days ago that sheds a little light on the question:  “What do men and women want?” Researchers at the University of Iowa have conducted a study every decade since 1939 that asks participants to rank a list of 18 characteristics they would want in a partner on a scale ranging from “irrelevant” to “essential”. The data increasingly shows men and women are mostly interested in same things:  attraction, love, character, stability, intelligence and ambition. 

Discernible differences between the sexes in the research last done in 2009 are:  1) women’s desire for men who care about home and children, 2) men’s hope for financially competent women and 3) men’s importance placed on looks.  However in the latter, male preference about a woman’s looks was rated only marginally higher than the importance women place on men’s looks.  For both sexes over the 70 years of this research, looks have come to matter less and less. 

It’s important to note that ‘mutual attraction and love’ was an overwhelming top choice for both sexes in the data.  In 1939 when this research began it was not even in the top three.  Also, worth noting, chastity is unimportant to men and women.  Today’s adults are not particularly looking for virgins or angels.  Political beliefs don’t matter either.

For more than four years previous to this last March I lived on a street of nothing but duplex’s owned almost exclusively by old people who lived in one side and rented the other for income.  Living around and getting to know some of my mostly 70 and 80-something neighbors was enlightening. 

Clear in memory is a conversation at an informal Christmas gathering when I talked to an 80-something untraditional ‘couple’.  I knew each had their own place catty-cornered across the street from each other and they spent a lot of time together.  Bill and Evelyn told me they were what they called a “committed couple” and loved each other.  I learned both had been married to other people twice in their long lives, but had no intention of getting married to each other.  It was just too complicated they explained because of their families and the separate long lives each had lived.      

Each time Bill and Evelyn looked at each other their smiles and sparkly eyes told easily how much they cared for the other.  Before our conversation broke up, they told me they spent a few overnight’s together each week,  much to the disdain of some of their family members.   There is no cloudiness in my memory of Evelyn’s comment “I’m old enough to do whatever the hell I want to do.  Bill and I love each other and that is all that matters”.  Even writing those words today they sound like something young lovers might say.  In the love department I think that’s exactly what this couple is in their hearts.

As long as I live I will remember one more thing that came up in my conversation with Bill and Evelyn near Christmas in 2009.  Their blunt explanation about sex embarrassed me a little at the time. I learned age and infirmity kept them from sharing sexually, but was told they had found something both thought was even better.  Evelyn said something like “we just lay down, kiss a little and then hold each other very close for a long time”.   What a beautifully sweet thought and one I am grateful to have logged away in memory. 

Do I love you because you’re beautiful,
Or are you beautiful because I love you?
Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, Cinderella

When the Spirit Moves You to Love

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

Over the last six months or so a rewarding pen-pal relationship has developed with a woman down in Texas.  Our communication is on an irregular and infrequent schedule, but when we write there is openness and sharing like you’d expect between two who have long known each other.  Seems a bit odd to say about someone I have never met, but we’ve become trusted confidants and probably good friends.  Maybe it’s the safety in distance that allows us to openly share of ourselves as we do.  However defined, I do know the connection is good.    

Today I received an email from my Texas friend after not hearing from her for several weeks.   She seemed a bit sad and a little troubled, but on the move forward and focused inward to reposition herself in a better place.  She wrote of desiring less of what blurs life and more simplicity in living as she progresses past a near-miss love relationship.  

Like me, she hopes one day to love and be loved again deeply and profoundly.  My friend wrote:   It should be an exciting peeling of layers. Instead flags of red loom in the distance…  I have tried the life of love 3 ways:   heart and mind lead, heart leads, and forget both, just let them lead… In summary, it seems to me I have failed to listen, absorb, apply and discern. But it also seems I will not settle… the challenge remains to never hurt another’s heart. It is impossible… 

I relate to what she wrote.  Being single in middle age with the weight of experience, previous marriage(s), children, protective barriers, responsibility and the like, it can feel impossible that the magic of love will ever sparkle again.  The hapless romantic in me, says it can, but I still get lost and disbelieve a good bit of the time.  Finding this passage by Erika Harris helped:   It is good to feel lost… because it proves you have a navigational sense of where “Home” is.  You know that a place that feels like being found exists.  And maybe your current location isn’t that place but, Hallelujah, that unsettled, uneasy feeling of lost-ness just brought you closer to it.    

In my life there have been times when I have been lost and I have been found.  There have been times I have proven my courage and other moments when I have shown my cowardly side.  With courage I have helped others and myself, but overcoming cowardice has been the greater teacher.  Today I am a coward about opening myself up to fall in love once more.  One day though I have faith a woman will again move me to my spiritual core and the courage to love will return.   But how will I know? 

There is no logical answer I can give to how I will know when she arrives in my life except to say my spirit will know.  The cue will be my fear of pain and heartache will be overcome by courage that will compel my heart open again without thought to how things will turn out.  Spiritually I will just know.  My spirit is the only force that can bring harmony and balance between my heart and my mind. It is then when falling in love becomes “can’t not do”. 

Often I get lost in my thinking and allow my ego to convince me that I am what I think.  It is impossible to stop my whirring mind, but it is possible to relax my attention to it.  When I am able to do take a few steps away from my constant storm of thoughts through meditation, prayer or stillness, I find there is a softer and quieter awareness within me that has nothing to do with my mind.  There I find a certain knowing without conscious thought that comes from the depths of my being where my soul resides.  My spirit always answers true if I am in tune enough to hear its soft and gentle voice.  

So the advice I give to my distant friend is there exists a fourth way to experience the “life of love”.  It is to spiritually be on the lookout for someone who moves you; one you can willingly and easily risk your heart for.  Let it be when you can hardly stop yourself and when logic makes no sense. When the spirit brings harmony between mind and heart the miracle of true love is possible. Like a magnet to iron, two are pulled together by the magnetism of their spirits through an knowing beyond unconsciousness.  The key is to be aware enough to notice when the spirit is trying to move us. Sometimes a chance for love knocks so softly if our “spiritual radar is down” we can miss it entirely with no second chance. 

I am grateful to whatever force drew my Texas pen-pal and I to share with each other as we do.  She is a good friend.  I am grateful for our connection and the insight writing here today has given me.  And, oh, by the way… I just checked.  My “radar” in “ON”… 

Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more, and those who fear to love often find that want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life.
(Merle Shan). 

Five Biggest Regrets Before Dying

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Life became more difficult to bear as I aged due to collecting an ever growing quantity of regrets.  Over time qualms collected were thrown on my conscience pile.  Little by little that burden became heavier and heavier.  Eventually it was a single huge regret that broke the back of my resistance less than five years ago.  Then all my smaller regrets began to surface buoyed by the repentance I was attempting to make for what I considered the great wrong I had done.  As the smaller misgivings have been taken out, examined and some sort of peace attempted with them I made a discovery that many were not that small at all.  In hurting others, ultimately I hurt myself as much or more. 

Some of my regrets at random:
– A friend and I got 200 bait crickets and let them lose in our basketball coach’s new car when we were 16.  We were upset at him because he got mad at our team and made us practice way too hard late one night after a game.
– Telling my eight or nine year-old son who was behaving badly that he was not acting like a human being and taking him outside saying he could come back into the house until he decided to act human.
– Not making car payments when I was eighteen and my car getting repossessed.  I caught up payments and got the car back.  A year later the same thing happened again and I lost the car for good.
– Sleeping with a woman when I was 19.  Then the next morning hurting her when let her know I was engaged.
– Not staying in better touch with my three half sisters and completely losing track and now having no idea where my sister Kelly is.
– Throwing a sandwich in a guy’s face that I worked with, even though he lost his temper and spit on me.
– Not going to more of my son’s hockey games when he was growing up.
– Refusing to accept that I suffered from depression for so many years and the damage to me and those around me that self-chosen blindness caused.
– Getting into a verbal tiff with my ex-mother-in-law in the car and her getting out and walking when we all were in Lake Tahoe.
– Not being truthful when my 2nd ex-wife told me she would stand by me no matter what if I would just tell her the truth.
– Losing track of a good friend and former roommate/co-worker fromJackson,Mississippi named Bruce Owen.
– Stealing a camera from K-Mart on a dare when I was 17.
– Not flying home for my favorite Uncle Jimmy’s funeral.
– Hurting a woman whose initials are RW so badly she will not even speak to me. 
– Not showing more appreciation for my first wife who always took such good care of me.
– Letting my personal life affect me to the point that I got fired from a company I was employed by for 18 years.
– Realizing what I felt about Desi Kershaw long after I had lost track of her.
– When home visiting, driving by the nursing home where my grandfather was living and not going to see him before he died two months later.
– For falling out of touch with my half sister Lisa and not finding out she even had cancer until after her funeral.
– For telling my Father off about his drinking and drugging then not speaking to him at all for the year and a half before he died at an AA meeting.
– Allowing sexual compulsiveness to take me into darker behaviors and today having that  knowledge even thought the behavior is long behind me now.
– Having no idea where my 1st cousin Vickie is now for over 20 years even though we were best friends growing up.

Bronnie Ware is women who once lived on the street and went on to become a nurse for the dying.  She has written about the top five regrets that terminally ill patients express during the last three to twelve weeks of their life.   http://www.inspirationandchai.com/Regrets-of-the-Dying.html

Here are the Top Five regrets she heard and has written about:

  1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.  This was the most common regret of all.
  2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.  This came from every male patient that I nursed.
  3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings. Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others.
  4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends. Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks.
  5. I wish that I had let myself be happier. Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice.

While all five points touch me, I am especially moved by the fifth. It is in that spirit that I come here each day to share of myself without walls and allow the world to see me as I am, warts, mistakes and all.  For the admission of my random regrets today I am a little healthier mentally and my psyche has been lightened.  Contained within me is much gratitude for each of you for sharing my path of learning to live life better and more happily. 

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.  Bronnie Ware

Memories of a Dear Friend

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

This morning I woke up thinking of a dear friend of 30 years who passed away last year about this time.  Ultimately not taking care of himself combined with bad habits and the unmanaged stress of a challenging life did him in.   If he cared about someone he would do just about anything for them.  Like the photo above suggests, he was great fun to be around. 

 His nickname,  “Banger”, began in reference to his first car which was a “beater”  and did not fire on all cyliders consistently.  Hearing the car nearby back firing, his friends would say “here comes the banger” which over time became adapted to be his nick name.

I met Bill at a radio station where he came to work as an Account Executive.  He was good at selling, even selling himself.  A funny story about getting the job was the listing on his resume of spending a year and a half on the road as a wholesale ceramics sales person.  That is a true statement, but lacks the detail to show that job was for a ceramic company that made bongs he peddled wholesale to head shops in the Midwest.  What makes this even more ironic is Bill never used a bong or anything of the sort in his whole life!   

Within less than a year of meeting “Banger” I was at his bachelor party.  He and his future wife had been living together and now that she was expecting he deemed it time to get married.  That was the night he introduced me to something called “purple Jesus”.  I remember clearly him showing me a good-sized new plastic trashcan about a third filled with red liquid with sliced fruit floating in it.  I asked why the name “purple Jesus” and Bill said, “drink enough of this and you’ll go see Jesus”.  After a half a glass of the stuff put me into orbit, I stopped short of going forward to test his prediction.  What was it?  A concoction of red Hawaiian punch and grain alcohol with sliced oranges and limes floating in it.      

Bill would never say exactly, but I have always wondered in what measure was love his motivation to marry as compared to a sense of doing what he thought was right.  I do know he had a high sense of honor and he loved both his children.  By the time he had two sons a few years into elementary school he was divorced.  He never remarried. 

The heart wrenching part of Bill’s life was when his youngest son was diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy.  The boy was six or seven years old when the doctors made the determination.  Clearly I recall over time watching the disease progress.  One scene vivid in memory was when Bill came to visit one afternoon and both his boys were playing with my son.  All three had gone up stairs which the son with MD negotiated with some difficulty going up, but to get down my friend had to carry him.  Soon the boy was in a wheel chair. 

 Within a year or so Bill was the parent the boys lived with full-time.  He took good care of them as best he knew how and was especially devoted to the younger one bound to a wheel chair whose disease progressed slowly but steadily.  The young man was smart and always quick to smile.  He had a bunch of friends, of which one or two were there just about always when I dropped by.  He shook hands with two presidents and was a “poster child” for MD twice.  What he told his Father consistently was when things got to where he could not breathe unless hooked to a machine; he wanted Bill to let him go.  That time came when the younger son was around 20 and in the hospital only able to breathe with mechanical aid.  He told his Dad it was time and within two days the young man was gone.  

Bill had always been a drinker and as his boy’s illness grew worse, Bill’s intake grew.  He was not someone who got sloshed in public and got into trouble.  Instead he did it quietly mostly in the evening, often after the boys were asleep.  “Banger” smoked and did not watch his weight and became heavier and heavier as the years passed.  By the time he accepted his health was in trouble it was too late except to buy a little time.  Quitting smoking and drinking did extend his life a while, but living with 10% liver function did not present a lot of hope.  Bill was on a transplant list, but was never healthy enough for the surgery. 

For over a decade my friend and I lived hundreds of miles apart, but stayed in close touch mostly with frequent phone calls and I visited him about once a year.  He drove out to see me twice.  The last year of his life hospital visits were frequent, but he always came through .  Some of us close to him swear it was on pure stubbornness!  

Bill passed away on a Tuesday and late the week before my mobile phone rang and answering I heard a soft and weary voice say “how you doing boy?”  I told him I was doing well and he replied “I just needed to hear your voice Brother”.  I asked how he was doing.  His said he was struggling and that even getting up to get to the bathroom was a major chore.  Bill did not give me a chance to say much more.  He said he was very tired and had to go.  Then again he told me he called to just hear my voice.  Some of his very last words to me were “I love you Brother” to which I replied “I love you too “Banger”.  Then with a couple of “talk to you later’s” the less than 60 second call was over.  I know now what Bill did, but probably didn’t consciously know himself; he called to tell me goodbye.  My gratitude that he did exceeds my ability to express it.  

He that is thy friend indeed,
He will help thee in thy need:
If thou sorrow, he will weep;
If you wake, he cannot sleep;
Thus of every grief in heart
He with thee doth bear a part.
Richard Barnfield

Who Lingers in Your Heart?

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

I have a very insightful friend who wrote me an email yesterday and in it she said:   I often wonder in your heart, who it is that lingers there, who it is that still has your love but does not know it.  Whoever she is, she is lucky and hope one day if it is God’s will your hearts will connect again and it will be so great for you James.  I know you are not looking, but I feel inside you hope for her.  I do not know this, I just have a feeling you have someone you still love and cannot get out of your heart, probably because she still belongs there…   

When I read what my friend wrote, with hardly any thought I knew the answer to her question.  It was simply “Yes, there is one who lingers in my heart and the name is______.”  Initially my thinking went just to one person but quickly afterwards came the realization of varying sized pieces of love remain in my heart for many others as well.  My thoughts widened from at first thinking only of romantic love to a broader view of the many that have a place in my heart.  

I am first and foremost who I am genetically who has been molded and shaped by my life experience.  After that I am a collection of bits and pieces borrowed from a myriad of different people.  Some things borrowed are buried within me to where my awareness no longer touches them.  Others left a legacy labeled within me clearly with their name. 

From “Love is never a mistake” by Z. Smith
Love is never a mistake, never wasted, nor lost, even if it seems to go nowhere… Love has divine, everlasting qualities, and rewards beyond measure…  Love, and loving feelings are divine expansions of your own true nature, and always good and worthy and right…  

I have been blessed to have loved and borrowed and learned from many people I cherish.  The scope and meaning varies from large to small, but in no particular order here are some people I loved and learned from, each in a specific way. 

From a young teacher I idolized in 6th grade I borrowed his habit of wearing a wrist watch “upside down” with the watch face on the palm side of my arm.  He taught me how much fun learning is.   

From my beloved Grandfather I borrowed a saying: “Putting things in writin’ keeps friendly folks, friendly”.  That has always been especially interesting to me since he could not read or write and my grandmother had to read everything to him.   From him I learned about imperfection and honor. 

From the first girl to find her way into my heart and broke it when I was a teenager, I borrowed the knowledge that relationships end, but some of the love always remains.  She opened the door to learning what love is. 

From my business “father” and mentor in my 20’s I borrowed a saying that he had framed and hung on his office wall (and now hangs on mine): “There is nothing that can’t be accomplished as long as we don’t care who gets the credit”.  From him I learned how to be a leader of people. 

From two old friends, now passed on, I borrowed good feelings for the holiday season.  My friend Bill, who had a very difficult life, always signed his Christmas card with “Happy Hoot and Holler Days”.  Just typing that makes me smile inside and out with delight.  My friend Jan who, always wanted children but was never able to have any, loved Christmas so much that decorations were up year round in her home and during the season there was a tree of some kind in every room, including bathrooms!  From both I learned the power joy has over sadness.  

From my 1st wife I borrowed how to take care of and support someone from the way she did me.  I learned about helping another find some order and sense about life.  I learned from her about giving.  

From my 2nd wife I learned what it is like to love with all of one’s self.  Even through all the pain involved in the ending of the marriage I will be ever grateful for that lesson.  From her I learned loving without reservation. 

Through my son, I learned how to love without any uncertainty.  Since the day he came into the world there as never been a question of my feelings for him and there never will be.  From him I learned how to love fully and wholly.  

From my best friends  M. and C., I borrowed how to be a best friend to someone by the friend they have been to me.  Any time of the day or night I know either would be there for me no matter what.  From them I learned that friendship isn’t a big thing – it’s a million little things.

There are so many I could mention here, but space allows me to go no further.  Yet, I realize this is a good subject to revisit in the future and acknowledge others who left a thread of themself in the fabric of who I am.  For those mentioned here and those not yet written about who helped shape me into the person I am, I say “thank you”.   I am very grateful. 

I almost forgot…. Who is the “one” I thought of when reading what my friend wrote and included at the start of this blog?  I will only say I am very grateful to that person and will write one day here about them.  Just not yet, but I promise I will. 

Love is never a mistake it is either a very good relationship or an even better lesson. Sariah Lynne

Apology to Anna

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

What sort of ass would ask a woman to marry him while engaged to another woman and let an announcement in the paper be how she found out?  I am not exactly sure what kind of man he was, but I know him.  He was me.  

Only two women and their families know this story and until now I have not had the courage to admit it to others.  I began writing this blog in an effort to become more self-aware, especially of what I have to be grateful for.  Quite often I come to know thankfulness through revealing a misstep or mistake and finding a bit of resolution and peace.  In writing here today I am keeping my promise to dig down deep within and come face to face with my behavior in my past.  I don’t blame anyone who reads what I write here today and thinks less of me. However through telling this story I hope I can let go of some heavy regret and think a little better of myself. 

Talk about lost and confused, I was so baffled and bewildered in my early 20’s.  Today I find that to be a flimsy excuse however for hurting any one the way I did.  Wrong is wrong!  There is no changing that.  

Yes, I had a difficult childhood, but so did others who in spite of it grew up to behave better than I have at times.  In my younger years I meant no harm, but did a lot of it others anyway.  Thinking about disappointing someone or hurting another has always been near impossible for me to bear.  The thought of it is paralyzing, but was especially so years ago.  My inability to break up with a girl caused me to hurt her far more than I would have had I ended the relationship as I should have.  It is my hope that by writing here today I can finally get some reprieve for the burden of guilt and shame I have carried for over 30 years.  

I was 19 and living  in Colorado Springs when I met Anna at a concert a few days after I got out of the hospital for reasons that are another story for another time.  Anna was 17 and almost done with her junior year of high school when we met that spring.  After dating for a short while we moved into an exclusive relationship before she started her senior year.  By the time she graduated, we got engaged.  

Anna’s family welcomed me openly and treated me very well.  She was kind, caring and fun to be with.  For over a year I was her faithful and loyal fiancé, but as was so often the case in my past life, given time I strayed.  The person I met and started also seeing was the woman I ended up being married to for 20+ years.  I should have told Anna, but I just couldn’t.  I should have let her go, but was weak and did not.  To this day my actions, or rather lack of them, haunts me to the very core of my being.  

Also I was unfair to Bobbie, the “other” woman who married me.  When she and her family found out about what I had done it was very embarrassing for them.  She almost did not marry me.  She deserved better, but she got the “me I was then” instead.  We’ve been divorced for years now, but once in a while something with our son brings us together again.  One of those times when I can summon the courage, I will apologize to her.  

Recently I came an across a line of thinking that fits well why I am sharing what I am today. The passage goes something like “Good people end up living their life in hell because they can not forgive themselves”.  That type of hell on earth is well-known to me.  I am hopeful by my self admission here I can let go of a piece of self-induced torment I have lived with for so many years. 

Today I come here to publicly apologize to Anna and ask for her forgiveness although I doubt she will ever be aware I have written this (but I hope somehow she finds out).  I was completely and thoroughly wrong in how I conducted myself.   I very much regret the lack of respect and caring I showed her and her family.  Anna, I am deeply sorry I hurt you.    

From the song “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight. 

Three words, eight letters, so difficult to say,
They’re stuck inside of me, they try and stay away.
But this is too important to let them have their way.
I need to do it now, I must do it today.
I am sorry.
Author Unknown

A Mother’s Love

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

Her name was Dawn. Right out of college she began her first full-time job as a fledgling account rep where I worked.  Although she was “green” as grass, two of the senior account executives took her under their wing and brought her along.  She had talent, was well liked and was succeeding at her work when I took another job two thousand miles away.  While we were friendly, we were never really close so it was no surprise we did not keep in touch after I moved away. 

Fast forward ten years.  Working one’s way up in my profession required a lot of moving around to advance.  After three positions in three different states covering a decade I had advanced to a V.P./G.M. position I’d taken back in the same city where I had met Dawn originally.  During the ten years I was away from Ohio she had married and moved away.  Out of the blue one day I got a call from her telling me she was moving back to town, was looking for a job and wanted to know if we had anything open.  We did and were glad to have her join our staff.  My second association with Dawn lasted for around three years.     

Never will I forget how joyful Dawn was when she learned she was going to have a child.  She and her husband had encountered problems conceiving so Dawn, now in her mid 30’s, was elated to finally be expecting.  No happier Mom-to-be have I ever encountered.  About half way through the pregnancy she began having some health problems and testing began to find the source.  

Clear in my memory is the optimism she maintained that somehow everything would be OK as she explained to me privately she had cancer.  She told me her doctors said if she began chemotherapy very soon she had a good chance of recovery but would lose her baby.  If she chose to go full term with the baby, treatment after birth might save her, but it was very risky and the odds were against her.  I remember vividly her rubbing her several-month pregnant belly as she told me she was going to have her baby, no matter what.  

Dawn gave birth to a healthy baby and worked up until a few weeks before delivery.  She began chemotherapy treatment soon after.  Although she came by the office to show off her baby a few times, she never returned to work.  Each time we saw her she looked more ill than the time before.  Well before the baby’s first birthday Dawn was gone.  

Writing here now about something that happened 20 years ago still chokes me up.  Plain and simple, she knew what she was doing and knew her chances were slim.  She chose life for her child instead of life for herself.  No greater sacrifice do I know of a Mother making.  Clearly I recall hearing what a good father Dawn’s husband was to the child and then heard some years later he remarried.  That’s all I know of the story except Dawn’s baby would be around 20 years old now.  No child was ever more wanted or loved by a Mother.     

Some of the greatest stories of courage and sacrifice are lived out quietly by ordinary, every day people.  Books are not written about them nor movies made, but I am very thankful to know firsthand this account of Dawn Perry Gustin, one of the bravest people I have ever known. 

SACRIFICE 
©1996 Allison Chambers Coxsey

The sacrifice of love we give,
Takes less and yet gives more;
An everlasting hand of love,
The heart an open door.

The willingness to give of self,
To lay down your own life;
To touch another person’s heart,
In loving sacrifice.

A chance that God has given you,
To reach another soul;
Forever changed by kindness,
A life your love made whole.

For life is but a circle,
Each life part of the chain;
Each link is joined by sacrifice,
That causes man to change.

To turn and reach a hand of love,
To touch another’s life;
Will cause the circle to be whole,
In loving sacrifice.

 It is not now much we do, but how much love we put into the doing.  It is not how much we give, but how much love we put into the giving.  Mother Teresa

Most Friendships Don’t End, They Drift Apart

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

In my life there have been a few people I became close enough to that they felt like a devoted relative.  As I told one dear friend years ago, “If I got to choose who was in my family, you’d be in mine”.  At the time I thought of G—- truly as my “brother” and told him so.  Even today I still feel that way although the friendship has long not been practiced.  We met over twenty years ago and for the first fifteen the relationship grew closer with many wonderful memories. 

It was a natural occurrence that two men who were close would have wives who likewise become good friends.  I encouraged it knowing my 2nd wife had many acquaintances, but few close friends. It was pleasing to me when the two women became “buds”. 

When my wife filed for divorce, my friend and his wife sided with her.  The fact he had been my friend more than a decade longer than the couple had known my soon-to-be-ex did not seem to matter.  In talking to others I have come to know that friends getting divided up like marital assets in a marriage breakup is not uncommon.  “Sides” get picked.  Most friends of a couple choose one or the other partner and rarely does anyone stay close to both.  Sadly that is what happened for me and my friend put great distance between us and became highly judgmental of me.

After a couple of years passed G. was in town and called, wanting to see me.  Although knowing it would hurt to see him, I still cared and was glad he had called.  I harbored this little hope that getting together would be like old times.  It was for a moment.  By the time I arrived, my friend had already enjoyed a few beers and was talking to some mutual acquaintances.  After visiting for a while with the group, G. and I broke off to one side to talk.  With tears in his eyes I heard him say how sorry he was for turning his back and not being there when I needed him.  He apologized for being taken in so fully with my ex’s side of things and not giving me the benefit of the doubt.  On and on he went to the point of it being embarrassing for me.  

Smiling at one point I told my friend to please let it go because I had forgiven him a long while ago.  He asked how I could do that after what he did.  I said simply “because I love you, man”.  We shared a silent moment with neither having a dry eye after those words came from my mouth.  He followed up telling me he wanted us to get together whenever he was in town.  My reply was “I’d like that”.  I have not seen him since.   

I continue to send G. a small Christmas present each year so he knows I still think of him.  He does not reciprocate which does not bother me (much).  My reason for giving is not hoping to get something in return.  At one point I had a little talk with myself asking was I sending a gift each year to “rub his nose” into the rift between us or because I cared about him.  I am glad to say I concluded the reason was the latter and will continue to send a small present to him each year.  Once in a while I feel sad that our friendship is no longer practiced.  Occasionally the feeling of betrayal returns.  I always end up recalling a good moment we shared laughing and enjoying each other.  Then all is well again.  When I can remember the goodness of what once was my gratitude is always strong within me.  

A few things I have learned about friendship: 

1 – Friends will come and friends will go.  Most friendships last only for a time.  Rare is one that lasts a lifetime

2 – No friendship is ever a waste or a mistake.

3 – Sometimes “I’m sorry” will repair things, but other times it won’t.

4 – People are all created “perfectly imperfect”.   They will get on my nerves, they will disappoint me, they won’t always meet my expectations, they will break my heart.

5 – Sometimes I will be the friend to another who does the things in #4.

7 – I’ve learned who my truest friends are when I made a wrong decision and they don’t judge me for it or try to force me to do something different. 

8 – Most friendships don’t end; they just drift apart over time. 

9 – Friendships don’t just happen.  They take tending and care.  I have to stay present in another’s life for friendship to remain strong and healthy.  If I don’t make the effort then time will leave the friendship behind.

10 – All people who are your friend even for just a time are gifts to your life.  Cherish the memories and never forget the good. 

11 – Friendships will often fall apart and not be fix-able.  Life goes on.

12 – Learn from each friendship how to be a better friend to others. 

Each person has a story. Each story is different and has a tale to tell to those who are willing to listen. Each story has so many things to accomplish, and each story never ends. They are all special in their own little ways. Every story wants to be told. They hold secrets, gossip, tragedies, miracles, love, and heartache inside. So open up your heart and listen to the music of people’s souls. Unknown

Coincidence and My Newest Temporary Friend

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Something came across the path of my life last week that caused me to spend some time pondering the subject of “coincidences”.   Years back I recall reading “The Celestine Prophecy” by James Redfield that dances all around the proposition there are no coincidences.  In the fictional book the premise is everything happens in a sort of cosmic order as it is supposed to.  

My thoughts on coincidence do not go that far, yet I do not under value the impact of chance happenings upon my life.  I have been married twice to women I met purely by good fortune.  There has been more than one instance where my exact arrival time kept me safe when having been ten seconds earlier or later would likely have cost my life.  One of the big steps in my career was coming into contact purely by chance with someone vacationing where I lived.  It has not been uncommon in my life when being in an exact place, on a specific date and at a precise time brought me to an experience which could not have happened as it did any other place and time.   

A couple of months back I wrote a blog here titled ““Temporary Friends” that contained the following:  …There are those unique and rare times when real connections happen.  Once in a while on an airplane two compatible complete strangers find connection and the minutes float away without awareness as a “temporary friendship” is enjoyed…   https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2011/05/27/temporary-friends/ 

To tie the three above paragraphs together I need to tell you about a coincidental meeting last week while traveling.  As I sat down at the gate for my flight I noticed exactly across from me was a 30-something woman who was early to the gate as I was.  We each sat at an angle as to give each other room to stretch our legs out into the aisle between the close rows of seats.  I busied myself reading and with my phone as she did (I even recall something she read on her phone  caused her to laugh out loud a little).      

Boarding the plane I found myself seated just in front of the wing in an aisle seat.  Soon after the woman who had been sitting across from me at the gate came along to take the window seat beside me.   A conversation began fairly quickly that lasted the entire flight making for one of the shortest two hours I have experienced in recent memory.  

Her name was Milka which she explained means “queen” in several languages.  If all recognized royalty was an open, unassuming and kind-spirited as Milka was, all royals would be better deserving of their titles!  I found her to be intelligent, quick-witted, well-read and a caring soul I enjoyed talking to.  She became my newest and most favorite recent “temporary friend”.  

Learning about Milka was an interesting experience.  She was well-educated, has worked in several varying professions and is currently employed behind the scenes in marketing for the cosmetics industry.  She lit up when she talked about her husband she described as handsome and loving.  Her feelings for him were clear in her glow as she talked about him.  The children in her life had great meaning, both the nine-year old son she gave birth to and the 14 year-old from her husband’s previous marriage that lives with them.  What struck me most is that she seemed to be a genuinely happy human being.  Finding one who expresses their love of life openly today is not a common thing! 

The flight was over in no time it seemed and we had arrived at our destination.  Milka was visiting my home city for a convention related to her work.  On the plane I discovered her hotel was literally a couple of miles from my home and offered her a ride which she accepted.  

It never occurred to me that she was anything different from she presented herself.  She apparently felt the same way.  How else could two almost complete strangers have felt comfortable doing what we did!  After all I had offered a lift to someone I really did not know at all and she had accepted a ride from someone she barely knew as well.  Yes, both of us could have been wrong about each other.  But we weren’t and we knew it.  How?  I have no idea.  We just did. 

Today as I reflect on meeting Milka 48 hours ago, I know I will never forget her smile or a few of the details about the life of my most recent “temporary friend”.  Her positive attitude and apparent love of life is something I will remember in spirit long after I forget most specific details.  I am grateful for the chance meeting of a kindred soul and give thanks for the time we shared.  My life is a little richer for it.  I wish Milka and her family what Mr. Spock in Star Trek often wished others:  “Live long and prosper”.   

Chance is perhaps the pseudonym of God when he does not wish to sign his work.  Anatole France