I DID IT MY WAY

It is hard to let go. I think it is difficult for all of us. I know my mother struggled letting go of all her children. I left home with the greatest of ease — compared to my siblings that is. Mother never really believed I could leave for long. But of the seven kinds I was the only one who never again lived close to my parents.

It’s not just parents struggling to let go, although that is a big one, Releasing control is often a difficult human process requiring self confidence and personal restraint. While living in Saskatoon (Canada, my dear friends) my youth group and I were organizing a very large regional weekend event including housing about 350 youth who would stay in the homes of various church members. It was a big deal. Several key youth had responsibility for various elements of the organization and program.

On a decorating day, my leader in the arts and decorations approached me with a red face and steam coming out of her ears. She was an energetic, enthusiastic and talented young lady. Why are you redoing everything I do? Good question. I wasn’t redoing everything, but I was certainly redoing some of her work. I just didn’t believe it measured up to the standards I wanted to present and believed should represent me personally.

Dorothy caught me off guard and put me in my place. Why give someone a responsibility of you are not going to let them have some freedom to do it their way. In most things in life, there is not a right a wrong way of doing things. There is only my way and your way (even if we don’t like those options). I backed off. Dorothy did a great job and the event was a wonderful success.

My daughter had to teach me the same lesson again after my wife passed away. There were just the two of us and we were still living in Canby, OR. I was commuting to Salem for work and she was commuting to Portland. I thought we had an agreement. Each of us would put our dishes in the dishwasher when finished. It seemed to be going fine when she stopped doing what I considered to be a simple task. I finally asked her why she stopped. Well, why should I put them in the dishwasher? You’re just going to rearrange them anyway. Good point. I believed I get more dishes in if things were done my way. I have no idea why I even thought that was important.

I know there are some tasks that must be done a certain way. But there seem to be millions that can be approached from multiple angles. My mother tried to teach me to peal an apple pulling a paring knife toward me. I don’t know if it is my left hand or what, but I could not do that. I could get it pealed and it tasted the same, but was not the “right” way to do it.

The big BBQ was Monday and I did not go. I was calm and had no problem living with the consequences of several of my appointments — that was until the stores started coming back to me yesterday. Apparently they began barbequing at 9:00 a.m. for a 4:00 meal. Immediately I was sure they were cooking from rare and the correct way in my mind was to boil the ribs until they were about to fall off the bone, soak them in sauce overnight and then warm them on the BBQ. That way it doesn’t take very long and you can keep the ribs coming without long waits. Apparently more than half the ribs were cooked in the oven.

I had an emotional fit. That explained why the ribs brought to me were tough. I was internally frustrated (a nice word for furious). That is not the way it is done.

Fortunately I kept those thoughts inside my head and my mouth shut. When I calmed down I was reminded there is more than one way to skin a cat (wait it was ribs?). The ribs were cooked. People were fed. They were happy. What difference did it make if those in change did it their way? I’m not real sure why it mattered, but I’m sure they screwed up.