Thursday, October 18, 2007

On looking back and making deals with God

For some reason, I was introspective today. I was down in the dumps, and as the day went on, the more depressed I got. Soon, I began thinking about things other than politics.

Looking back on it, the first part of my childhood was pretty normal. I had the typical ups and downs, scrapes and bruises, happy times and sad ones. I had the usual assortment of playmates, and even an occasional girlfriend. All in all, not too bad for a four-eyed dork. It seemed like we moved around a lot, and there are houses we lived in that I can't recall whatsoever. My recollection of other places we lived is fairly good, my memories aided by the photographic record kept by my parents.

When I was in the fifth grade, my father made what turned out to be his final career move, and we relocated from a city where I was happy and had what seemed like a lot of friends to the city where I spent the remainder of my childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood.

For reasons that I don't completely understand, and which are at any rate too complicated to go into now, my life changed substantially with this last move. From the fifth grade on, I became isolated. I was unpopular and rarely had more than one close friend at any given time. That boy would be "my best friend" until the friendship dissolved for whatever reason, then I'd find a new best friend. When I reached the 7th grade, I met the guy who was my best friend all the way through junior high, high school, and into college. We're still friends to this day, although we rarely see each other. Once I got to college, my group of buddies expanded. I actually had four or five friends at one time.

But from grade five through high school graduation, my friendships were pretty limited, and at first the transition was tough. It hurts to be rejected and picked on by the other kids, but time passed, I adjusted, and learned to be happy in solitude. To this day, I'm uncomfortable in large groups, and prefer to stick to small gatherings, four or five people at most. Even smaller is better.

The bottom line of all this is that I don't have many friends. That doesn't bother me; I've gotten used to it, and actually like it that way. The number of people I have a close personal relationship with is small, just a handful of friends and family members. I'm not looking for sympathy, just filling in some background. My friends are few in number, but they're friendships that have endured the test of time. I have the same friends now that I had forty years ago, with the exception of one guy who passed away unexpectedly in 1998. I like my life the way it is.

Today, I was exchanging thoughts with one of those very few people I care anything about. In the course of the exchange, I learned that we share a great fear: the complete loss of our eyesight.

My vision has been poor since I was a preschooler, and I've been wearing glasses practically my whole life. Without corrective lenses, most of what I see is a blur, so hanging on to my corrected vision is really important to me. Being able to see is something I never take for granted, and as mentioned in previous posts, much of my enjoyment in life comes during reading and watching movies. Imagining life without sight is terrifying to me, similar to the notion of being buried alive.

As people get older, the prospects of physical disability seem to increase. When I contemplate the sobering possibilities, I find myself thinking about which of my abilities I'd give up in order to keep others. To put it another way, if I could pick my preferred disability, which one would I choose ? Would I be willing to be confined to a wheelchair if it meant I'd be guaranteed my vision and hearing ?

In a way, it's like trying to make a deal with God. Not unlike soldiers under heavy fire in a combat zone: "Lord, just let me live through this, and I'll never miss church again."

We think that maybe if we tell God what we're willing to sacrifice, He'll let us keep the things we really want. According to a sermon I once heard, we shouldn't depend on God to make these kinds of deals. But I keep trying anyway.

1 comment:

  1. Hey...this was particularly interesting to me; I was deeply touched, as well.

    It's been a while since I have had a chance to get on and see what you have been up to. Glad I took a minute today to do so.

    I love to read what you write. Your blog is great - but you are missing your calling.

    I believer that everyone should have at least one letter of rejection in their portfolio from a publishing company. I do - which is not surprising.

    You could very well get published, though...and prove me wrong. Either way, keep posting and I will check in from time to time to see what is up. (But you could be makin' some greenbacks - you are at least as good - if not better than- a lot of your fellow eccentric Texas writers who are culturally diverse, deep thinkers and willing to share.) I can only sit back in awe.

    Hope you get this reply as I have had some problems in the past.
    Love,
    ceebee

    ReplyDelete