Thursday, July 29, 2010

I Want A Wall Like That

I am drawn to the Wirewood's home. From the moment I met them, I just wanted to be a part of their family. Two empty nesters, they'd just built their place on a lot overlooking the Lake; a lovely yet modest dwelling with a great big shop out back for him, and a nice kitchen with large windows for her.

Their peace didn't last long. Just two weeks after they moved in, one of their many daughters discovered that she and her husband and three young boys needed a place to stay while they were between jobs. Of course the Wirewoods couldn't say 'no' to family. Their peaceful haven had just turned into the County Fair.

Right after that, their youngest daughter needed to move back in, having learned that she was bipolar and was struggling a bit. They made space for her, too.

When the daughter with the three sons moved out, another daughter who's husband had lost her job moved in. They had not three but four children, two of them being twins. They were welcomed.

When that family moved out, the daughter with the three sons, upon finding that a divorce was necessary, moved back in and stayed for another year or so. They were glad to have her back.

I got to be good friends with all of them; they were such warm and loving people. I learned to can tomatoes over there, which they shared from their huge garden. My children and I have sung while gathered around their fireplace; they are a very musical family. My son took piano lessons from their daughter with the three boys. One dark night, several of the daughters came to my home and proceeded to 'kidnap' me. I'd just had surgery and they were worried that ExMan was not nurturing me properly, so they drove me up the hill to their home to be nurtured as only the Wirewoods could nurture. I'd needed some emotional nurturing that evening and I talked and cried and they listened and cried. I will never forget that. We still laugh over my 'kidnapping'.

To say that I dearly love these people is an understatement. I am amazed that I was accepted without trying, included without having to ask, and that I've had a standing invitation to anything 'family' ever since I've met them. It's just the sort of folk they are.

My favorite part of their home is what I call the 'Smile Wall'. It has to be said that these people all have the most beautiful smiles. And plastered onto this wall in every frame available are members of the family, enjoying each other. Camping trips around the bonfire. Singing together. Anniversaries. Pure and simple joy within each frame. I could sit and stare at that wall all day long. It is evidence of a life well lived.

In contrast: there is a wall in a small western town at this very moment that is plastered with awards. Volunteer this or that, or Exceptional this or that, or This or That of the Year. These awards are hung there by a man that needs to feel important. He has had a wall like this in every home, every office, that he's ever occupied. He is hungry to be mentioned in the newspaper, or to get himself on tv. Retired, he spends his days not helping his terribly arthritic wife, but being involved in the community in carefully calculated places where he's sure to be noticed.

Years ago, when he had what everyone thought was a terminal illness, his wife and family simply accepted it. When he suddenly recovered, quite frankly, that was harder for them to accept. He had lived his life for himself; none of them really knew or even loved him. They had rarely heard him say, "I'm sorry," or "I was wrong". There had been no tenderness involved in any of his relationships. People were for using, to get into the all-essential public eye. Nothing more. If they were not obediently falling in line to further his importance, they were easily discarded. Hence, his increasingly crippled little wife. She did not fit into his picture of fame, so she got left behind at home.

He will gladly walk you through each framed award, and how he got them. He could sit for hours, talking about himself, without once asking how his listener is doing. Some have been subjected to the hour-plus long explanation. It is, in a word, repugnant. When one of his daughters recieved a prestigious award in her community, that she had not even been seeking, she called to tell him, in a child-like way hoping for some fatherly recognition herself, and was met with a 'that's nice, here's what I'VE done throughout my lifetime....' speech. She was later in the day even sent a list, so that she could view it in its entirety for herself. She was told that this man, her father, liked to keep that list of accomplishments in his wallet, as a frequent reminder of all he's done, all that he's achieved...and the many people that have obviously recognized him for it. The message? "You are not really that important...but I most certainly am."



If the Wirewood father or mother passed away today, that home would be flooded with people that would immediately miss them. I would be one of those people. I would be able to walk right in without even knocking...they've told me I was one of the 'sisters'. There would be tears, I'm sure, but there would also be a lot of those beautiful big smiles, some laughter, and yes, probably even some singing, in honor of Mom or Dad. And no doubt I would need to spend a moment to myself looking once again at the Smile Wall and thinking that Mr. or Mrs. Wirewood really did it right, this life thing. The grinning children with their faces smashed together is proof enough. No one needs to walk me through with a lecture on how important these 'awards' are. If a picture is worth a thousand words, this wall is surely worth a million of them. No one needs to make a list, or carry a reminder of how great they are around with them in their wallet...the proof is walking around in the form of five well-adjusted, happy curly-haired daughters with large smiles, and one musical, curly-headed son. These angel people have been very, very important. They were important where it counts...in the place of the heart.

There are Walls of Fame, and there are Walls of Shame. It's entirely up to us which one we wind up with. Awards....or rewards....?

As for me, I want a wall like that Wirewood wall.

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