Humans, as a species, have inhabited the Earth for millions of years.  According to Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, with regard to the origins of humans, “Many advanced traits–including complex symbolic expression, art and elaborate cultural diversity–emerged mainly in the last 100,000 years.”  I’d like to believe that we’ve continued to evolve in our maturity, especially in our openness to diversity.  But I wonder, when it comes to that aspect of our development as human beings, whether or not this is true.

Here in the United States, we enjoy the freedom to be of any race, nationality or creed.  At least that is the foundation upon which we formed our country. About one hundred years ago, both of my parent’s parents immigrated to this country from the European continent.  They all came through Ellis Island  They came here for a better life and faced what many immigrants faced and still face today.  They were categorized by their place of birth.  And they lived in groups, forming ethnic neighborhoods with people who spoke their language and shared their heritage.  Eventually, they were assimilated and became part of the American fabric.

So why do we still have such a problem with this?  We are supposed to be a country of diversity.  But when it comes to accepting people from other cultures, we are wary at best of people who are different in terms of language, race, religion and customs.  And we still have internal conflicts that threaten what we are intended to be, a place for everyone in the “melting pot” that is America at it’s best.

Fear is the enemy.  It always is.  In the words of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, “[…] the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”  This may seem less profound than it really is, at a time when there is so much fear in our culture.  But that is precisely why we need to think about this more, so that we can gain the wisdom to begin to drive out the fear that pervades our country and our world view.

Fear-mongering is growing in the media at an alarming rate.  With the pervasive influence of our technology, we can hear and see the same bad news over and over again, until it takes over our consciousness.  When we give the media so much power over our lives, we lose the ability to think for ourselves.  But if we are vigilant, we can take back our power and make decisions that are positive and hopeful.

The ones who came before us, came here for a better life.  Now we have to remember what it means to be rich in all of our diversity.  And then maybe we can be that place where people still want to come, that we indeed may live up to the ideals that can make this country a more welcoming place to live.

Two years ago, I became a dog owner.  Up until then, I had no desire to have a pet because I was gone so much.  But my husband really wanted one, and so I said okay.  We were both at home much more of the time, and had slowed down our lives, so I thought that maybe I could handle it.  I had never owned a pet, other than goldfish and a turtle growing up, so I felt a bit inadequate.

Anyway, my husband said that he wanted me to pick out our dog because he wanted me to like him or her.  He would be happy with whichever one I chose.  So I went to Pet Refuge and brought my two oldest grandchildren with me.  They wanted me to get a big dog, but we have a small house.  They liked dogs with lots of pent-up energy.  I did not.  They didn’t care about the shedding.  I did.  I knew what I wanted.  I wanted a small dog that was trained to go outside, didn’t shed much, and was not hyper.  I preferred it to have a quiet, sweet disposition.

We looked through the whole place and did not see any dog matching the description. In fact, we didn’t see any small dogs at all.  But, just  as we were ready to leave, we saw a family in one of the visiting rooms with the little dog I wanted.  I panicked and thought, “Oh no, they are going to adopt her (I just knew it was a girl)!”  I couldn’t imagine that they would not choose her.

And then they left.  I couldn’t believe it!  They didn’t want her.  I just had to see her immediately!  The woman that was still inside the room with (my) dog was a foster parent for this little sweetie.  We asked if we could see her and she said,”Of course.”  The woman with her was so nice. We sat down in the little room and she placed her on my lap.  I began to pet her and in a few minutes, she was asleep. I wanted her!

Her name, (yes, she was a girl) was “Tiny” and she was adorable.  I asked what I needed to do to adopt her.  There were two interviews and references required.  There were many questions to be asked and answered.  We had the first interview on the spot.  I was so excited.  I couldn’t wait to take her home.  We went through every requirement and jumped through every hoop.

When we went to pick her up, she wasn’t ready to leave her foster mom.  I felt so unsure of myself all of a sudden.  But the foster mom assured us that she would bond with us.  And she did.  I was totally amazed by the change in me.  I loved her.  I mean really loved her.  I could feel it down to my toes.  It was a transforming experience.  It was like she was my child.  And it is still this way.  No one has ever been as happy to see me when I come home as she is.  She is pure joy.  I finally understand why dog owners are a breed of their own.  And now I am one of them too.

Everyday I thank God for the gift of gratitude, which is at the heart of happiness.  This is one of the prayers that begin my day, everyday.  A long time ago, I remember reading somewhere that you cannot be grateful and unhappy at the same time.  This resonated with me, and I thought about it and meditated on it, deciding that this was absolutely true.  The very act of being thankful brings appreciation.  And appreciation causes you to think about all the good in one’s life.  How can that lead to unhappy thoughts?  It can’t.

The reason given for this phenomenon was that it was impossible to hold two opposite ideas inside your mind equally.  They conflict, and either one or the other will be stronger.  The stronger one wins and becomes the dominant thought.  Therefore, we can convince ourselves to feel happy by creating the intention of thankfulness.  Actually, I think the two can occur almost simultaneously.

One day, I decided to pray a simple prayer in my mind beginning when I was still in bed.  I started out by thanking God for my bed, my house, the paid bills, my job, my insurance, etc.  I found that I could go on and on and on and still not have mentioned all the blessings I have.  And I hadn’t even begun to mention my wonderful family and friends.  And then, there was my  sweet little dog and the opportunity to share my talents and be of service.  I found out that it never ends, once you get started and really think about how much there really is to be grateful for in one’s life.

And yes, there comes a time in everyone’s life, when tragedy happens and the deep sadness takes over.  This is natural and all part of this journey we call life.  It happened to me when my son was killed in an accident.  One day, he was hugging me and thanking me and saying goodbye after visiting me, and the next thing I knew he was dead.  The shock and grief hit me with a force of devastation that left me numb.  I couldn’t believe that it was true, even after I had seen him lying on a table in the morgue.  It was just too much to take in.

What kept me from being in total despair was the fact that I was so grateful for what I had with him.  The relationship, the memories, my last moment with him, all were blessings.  No one could ever take those things away from me.  They would always be true.  Gratitude saved me.  It saves me still.

Most of all, gratitude costs nothing, requires no terms, is always available and the benefits are endless.  No matter what happens, even if it is much worse than death, you can choose to be thankful.  And by doing this, you choose to be happy.

Part 3 of 3 Click here for Part 1

We had no idea what time it was.  I looked through the hole left by the doorknob and I saw that it it had become dark.  But, in the bathroom it was still fluorescent.  There are no windows in my mom’s bathroom.  It is in the middle of the house.  And if there were windows, nobody would have heard us.  Even before my folks added a garage and a house addition, they would have been facing an alley with no traffic.

Time passed, and no calls came from anyone.  My brother faithfully calls my mom at the commercials to talk to her about the shows that they both like to watch.  He didn’t call.  My husband had called and left a message on my phone.  He wasn’t alarmed when I didn’t answer.  He just thought we were busy with something.  Of course we did not even hear my cell ring.  It was in my purse, in the living room.

I stood and leaned on the towel bar at different times.  Then I’d go back to sit in a chair.  We switched back and forth between the chair and the stool.  Then we’d take turns working on the door a while before going back to sit.  We sang songs.  We prayed some more.  Sometimes I would begin to doze while I was sitting and my mom would keep me awake so I would not fall out of the chair.  At one point, I looked through the hole on the door and saw that a new day had begun.

We were starring in a comedy of errors.  And we still laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. But then I began to worry.  Mom is diabetic and has other health issues because of it.  I have epilepsy.  My mom and I had not had anything to eat.  She had missed her medications and so had I.  Her ankles were swelling and she was beginning to flag.  I rolled a rug up and set it on top of an open drawer in the vanity to raise her legs.   I took the two washcloths and got them cold with the tap water.  Then I placed them on her ankles and kept rinsing them to keep them cold.

I began to rub her back and try to keep her comfortable.  At this point I became concerned.  I was worried that Mom would have a reaction to the missed doses of her meds.  I was afraid of having a seizure in front of her, and possibly falling on the hard bathroom floor.

Suddenly, the phone rang.  We got so excited.  It rang and rang and rang.  And then it stopped.  We waited.  Nothing happened.  It seemed to be at least a half hour later till it rang again.  It rang and rang and rang again.

Finally, we heard my brother let himself into the house.  We screamed and screamed!  “We’re in the bathroom!  We’re stuck in the bathroom.”

He came to the door and couldn’t believe we had been stuck in there all night.  From early afternoon the day before until now, it had been twenty hours.  We had been in there for twenty hours!  It took him a half hour to get the door off the hinges.  They were so stuck that they had to be pried apart and he had to use tools to keep each of them open as he pried the next one open.

At last, all of the hinges were propped open.  But the door would not budge.  I even tried flinging my body at it.  It didn’t work.  My brother kept on working on it.  Finally, it came off.  When we examined it more closely, the only thing that had kept the door from opening was a tiny piece of wood about three-eighths of an inch thick.

Of course, he asked us every one of the questions we had asked ourselves so many times during this ordeal. “ Why didn’t you have a phone in the bathroom?”  “Where was your cell phone?”  “Why did you leave the button in the kitchen?”  And then he asked, “Why did you take the door knob off?”  Actually, I thought that was a good idea.  But, never mind that!  He was just upset.

We were free!  We were okay!  And you know what?  It wasn’t so horrible.  It wasn’t even scary, until the end.  One thing was for sure.  If I had to be stuck anywhere, for any length of time, under any circumstance, I could have never chosen anyone better to be with than my mom.  We never lost hope. We never got angry or cross. Most of all, we never lost our sense of humor.  After all is said and done, we actually had a pretty good time.  And now, we have a great story to tell again and again.

Part 2 of 3 (click here for Part 1)

We were stuck in the bathroom with a door that wouldn’t budge.  We looked at each other and realized that we had forgotten to bring her bathrobe in with us.  It just seemed to get funnier and funnier to us.  There were only two towels that were not wet, which my mom could put around her. Thank God she wasn’t cold.  Then we looked around and the telephone my mother always kept in the bathroom was not there.  She had just not gotten back in the habit of putting it in there in the morning like she always did.  She just wasn’t in her normal routine yet.

And then it hit me!  My phone was in my purse on the couch in the living room.  Usually we have two phones and her “button” in the room with us. Now we had nothing, no way of communicating to the world beyond the bathroom.  We both realized this at the same time.  We looked at each other and laughed some more.  I jokingly said, “What’s the worst that can happen?  If we don’t show up tomorrow afternoon for your doctor’s appointment, then people will know that something’s up.”  I had no idea how close it would come to that!

We fully expected my brother to call.  He is really a great son, so attentive and loving.  He watches over Mom like a mother hen.  (And I mean this in the nicest way possible.)  And she loves it!  What mother wouldn’t?  But no call came.

At least we each had somewhere to sit.  There was the toilet and the shower chair.  And we had water!  This was really good news.  Being stuck without these two things would have been so much worse.  Not to mention the fact that one of our seats had dual purposes.  Ha, ha.  The hinges were on the other side of the door.  I decided to see if there was something I could use to unscrew the doorknob.  I rifled through the drawers and found a tiny little screwdriver.  I loosened the screws and the doorknob fell outside the door.  “Good,” I thought.

I looked through the hole and saw the area where I could try to turn the small square part inside the door  so that I could pull back whatever was catching the door into the jamb.  I really didn’t know what I was doing, but I was pretty sure that I was moving in the right direction.  I could see down the hallway where the sunlight was hitting the wall at the end of the hall.  By now, it was probably about 2:30 or 3:00 in the afternoon.

I must have worked on that hole in the door on and off for a couple of hours or more during our ordeal.  Other things we did include: banging on the door with our fists, with a wooden hairbrush and any other hard thing we could find.  I even threw my body at it.  But my mom didn’t like it and she made me stop.

We took turns sitting on the toilet and the shower chair.  We sat across from each other and prayed.  We even danced a few times.  We still laughed and talked and laughed some more.  We kept focusing on the good things.  We did have water and a toilet and somewhere to sit.  These were very good things.  But, most of all we had each other.

To be continued……..