Sunday, August 7, 2011

PERSPECTIVE

The doctor walked into dad’s hospital room. My father was lying on the bed. He had been through several months of experimental liver cancer treatment hundreds of miles from home. He had been admitted to a local hospital close to home due to alot of internal bleeding. The doctor just happened to walk in when it was just me and dad in the room.
My relationship with my dad had been rocky throughout the years. Maybe rocky is not the most accurate word here. Suffice it to say, it wasn't exactly Andy and Opey when I was a kid. Things did get much better as time went on. He mellowed with age and I finally grew up and we reached some common ground. I don’t know what or when the exact turning point was but I actually learned to appreciate him and he was a great papaw to my two kids and we figured out that we actually cared about each other.
When I looked at the doctor’s face I knew he did not have good news to share.
He started in technical terms and then got down to the cold hard facts "basically the cancer you have been battling with has won" the doctor said, "you probably have two weeks to live, but we are going to get you released and get you back home today” Then he walked out of the room, he left us there by ourselves. What do you say to your father when he has just been handed a death sentence? I finally looked up from the floor after an eternity of silence. The look on dads face is one of those things in your life that you just can't unsee.  Up until that moment he had convinced himself that he was getting better.
Now He had the look of complete and utter defeat on his face. I have no idea what expression my face held, no one was looking at me.
I was searching for something comforting and profound to tell the man I had spent most of my childhood avoiding. Then I uttered the only words that would come out of my mouth, "that doesn't sound very good".  Not exactly Knute Rockne-ish. Dad responded in like form, "no it doesn't".  Then we both resumed staring at our favorite tiles on the floor. That was Christmas Eve 1991; the next day would be dad's 60th birthday. a month later I would give the eulogy at his funeral.

Less than ten years later, I'm was trying to finish my day running calls on broken appliances, my marriage in shambles, after over a year of trying to salvage that mess for the sake of my kids I had come to the conclusion that after spending my whole life fixing broken things, this was one thing I could not repair. Going from house to house bringing dead appliances back from the dead wondering how I was going to tell my to kids that their whole world was about to fall apart
It just happened that I had three calls in a row that were exactly the same. Old ladies whose icemakers had stopped working and they all were pissing and moaning about how terrible their lives were without the convince of the life giving ice.
After breaking down and bawling like a baby between each call I had reached my limit. On my last call of the day, I tried to comfort the old lady who had to endure 3 days of slow ice production, "maam I'm sorry about your icemaker, I can't think of anything worse in the world then to have your icemaker working too slowly"
The sarcasm was probably wasted on this dimwit, but it brought some small measure of gratification to me.
Twelve years later, I am back on the road running calls after a year and a half of being sidelined due to knee surgery, heart issues, automobile accidents, rotator cuff and spinal fusion surgeries, I was beginning to get back in the grove of things and I felt good about being back on the road again. Then Monday I knocked on her door. It seems her water heater stopped working. I could tell that she was pissed at me when walked through the door. The sound of reproach in her voice told me that she knew I had designed her over-engineered high efficiency water heater and she knew I talked her into buying this over-priced piece of Algore shit and I caused it to break down.
This unit had a defective gas valve and an off the shelf common  part won't work on this one. It takes a fancy electronic gas valve, the kind I don't have in my truck, the kind that I have to order from the factory.
So as I'm explaining to this middle-aged women that I would emergency order this part and have it here in three days I here her sniffling, then the sniffling turned to crying then blubbering then I hear her caterwauling, I looked up in disbelief and she started in.  HOW WILL I EVER DO MY LAUNDRY ( rhetorical, no question mark required). I HATE  !!!! (insert your hated retail store here) WITH A PASSION !!!"
"THIS IS THE 2nd THING THAT I BOUGHT AT YOUR STORE THAT BROKE DOWN AFTER JUST 4 YEARS AND I WILL NEVER DO BUSINESS WITH YOUR COMPANY AGAIN (thank you Jesus)!"
I couldn't get out of that house fast enough, as I enter the 140 degree service van I put the truck in reverse before the engine knew what hit it. I pulled over down the street to process my part order and give the AC a chance to start the evaporation process of my uniform and heavily sweating brow.
As I sat there in cool down mode those bad times in my life came to mind then I remembered an old saying mom used to tell us when we were kids:
"I cried because I had no shoes till I met a man that had no feet".
That lady who I left crying like her world just ended because she had to do without hot water for a couple of days during a string of mid 90 degree days should meet half of the third world that can't get any water at all.
It reminded me that I shouldn't dwell on my problems, because everyday on the news there are heartbreaking stories worse than anything that has ever happened to me.
It's all about perspective, that's a magic word that we all tend to leave out of our mental vocabulary at times. That is till we walk around the corner and see that man who has no feet. Thanks mom.

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