The Crapshoot or Angels Watching Over Me

He felt that life was largely a crap shoot 

and that we simply need to muddle on as best we can, 

being as kind and loving to one another as possible, right now. 

It’s a pretty good philosophy, 

no matter what one’s religious beliefs or lack of them.

~Michael Dirda, 

book columnist for The Washington Post, 

referring to Kurt Vonnegut

Yeah.

A control freak of sorts, lately I've been reminded (repeatedly) that control is an illusion. Call life a crapshoot, but that sounds kind of negative (especially if you are bad at craps). A more positive spin was provided in an article I read this week which states that "you've already won the lotto."*

The article shares that concept of giving thanks and recognizing that we are who we are and what we are not only because of our hard work but because of a series of incidents (good and bad), accidents, blessings, circumstances, and lucky throws of the dice. Further, the article postulates that gratitude for our good fortune (for things turning out okay) makes us better, more generous (and genuine) human beings. It makes sense to me.

I've always known there are at least two ways to look at everything and the positive has always worked best for me.  I attribute my habit of thought first to my mother's example - I remember her seeing the good in everything to the point where I knew what her response would be - even to tragedy. Almost immediately she would see the "other side" in any situation**

Miss Haley Mills also deserves some credit too, making the Disney Pollyanna character believable and worth emulating. Most of my life I have been "playing the The Glad Game"*** - looking on the bright side of things.

And in a more challenging way, Brother John Totten, SM**** always asked us to look at things from a different perspective. He would physically turn his hand over while saying, "on the other hand." We exercised our minds and spirits in his course, Philosophy of Religion and God, as we attempted to achieve insight.***** Was a semester long enough to establish a kind of muscle memory for the mind, the heart, the spirit? Maybe so. I hope so.

My friend and I discussed the Times article on one of our walks this week (when I could catch my breath to talk). I was sharing some "close calls" in my family history. I have a list of "I almost wasn't here" stories. My children almost weren't here too.

My brother writes a "gratitude Friday message." He can really capture that sense of good fortune and reminds us to be grateful.

So I am making a list. It isn't complete. It's a start. My list includes stories I have told and have yet to tell. There are "other sides" to them. They aren't all funny or pretty stories. My list may not make sense to you. It makes sense to me.

For now, here are the prisms casting rainbows on the wall of my sickroom (Pollyanna helped hang them - watch the movie.):

     I am grateful to the mule which kicked my paternal grandfather in the face causing such damage that the Marines wouldn't take him when he tried to enlist.

     I am grateful for the unnamed man from Rockport, TX who recognized my ailing maternal grandfather in the French hospital (pneumonia from mustard gas) and brought Uncle Oscar, a doctor, to him.

     I am grateful for Uncle Oscar.

     I am grateful for the inner tubes my traveling salesman grandfather carried in his vehicle and used to float away from the old river bridge where he was stuck during a flood.

     I am grateful for life being so bad in Ireland, Germany, Russia and other countries that people (many mere children) risked everything for a chance (there it is again - rolling the dice) in a new land.

     I am grateful for people who took in strays and orphans.

     I am grateful for the major who found the runaway.

     I am grateful for the tree a young MP climbed up and fell out of.

     I am grateful for helicopter pilots.

     I am grateful for following orders.

     I am grateful for nearsighted drivers.

     I am grateful for Toyota Camrys.

     I am grateful for all the stupid choices made and survived.

     I am grateful for the wise choices made in spite of ourselves.

     I am grateful for my mother's good cooking.

     I am grateful for the bravery, not only of my father, grandfathers, and great grandfathers, but also for the courage and resourcefulness of my mother, grandmothers, great grandmothers and other ancestors.

     I am grateful for all the friends, neighbors, aunts, and uncles who helped raise my parents, DH, and me. God bless the random parent.

     If our lives indeed are shaped by those who love us and those who refuse to love us (not sure who said this. I had the poster years ago.), I am grateful to both.

     I am grateful for things I cannot speak or write.

     I am grateful for the angels watching over all of us.


NOTES: 

*http://www.nytimes.com/2016/05/22/upshot/are-you-successful-if-so-youve-already-won-the-lottery.html

**And she taught us there was good in everyone (so look for it) and that people are who and what they are for a reason.

***https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pollyanna 

****http://www.marianist.com/?p=16358
As proof that the saying "only the good die young" is untrue, Brother John Totten was still living, the oldest member of the Marianists, as of the date of the writing of this post.  He had us reading Paul Tillich. Brother John said the material was challenging, but not too great a reach for us.

*****Brother John taught us that sometimes a good question was better than a mediocre answer. And if you achieved an insight there would be a large "I" on your paper. Additional excellence was noted with a plus sign or signs (an "I +" was a wonderful achievement).

Angel of God,
my guardian dear,
to whom God's love commits me here,
ever this day,
be at my side
to light and guard,
to rule and guide.

~ Prayer to my Guardian Angel