Life is an attitude, an exercise in contrasts. Do I live open or closed, optimistic or pessimistic, hopeful of cynical, joyful or gloomy? Of course, for all of us there are moments of all these outlooks. But overall, do we for most of life think of the glass being half empty or half full?
There was a movie released in 2007 called The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Le scaphandre et le papillon) about Jean-Dominique Bauby who was chief editor of the French fashion magazine Elle. He rode in the jet-setting circle of the privileged playboy culture until at 43, he had a stroke that damaged his brain and paralyzed his body, leaving him with what is known as “locked-in syndrome”. What most of us lose bit by bit--our physical prowess, our muscle tone, our quick articulation, our ability to move—Bauby lost in an instant. For him, all that was left was his sight, his hearing, and the ability to blink his eyes. Over months of being locked in, despairing and depressed over all that he had lost, he began to ask himself, “What do I have left?”
Not a bad question to ask ourselves at any juncture of the journey, from the jumping-gym to the walker or from the three-story house in the gated community to the care facility.
This next December Bill and I will celebrate our 60th wedding anniversary. We have walked a long and stimulating road together. We have been blessed to travel the world, to have and love three amazing children who have given us seven very unique and invigorating grandchildren. We have moved in many circles of influence and made friends with some of the greatest and endearing people, known and unknown, who have lived on this earth in our lifetime. We have risked and lost; we have reached out and been welcomed and rejected.
Today, this Valentine’s Day, we have been so enriched by it all and have never been so grateful. So much remains. How full is the glass? Brimming over. As we have had to relinquish, we have found our hands and hearts incredibly more full than ever! So here is my Valentine to the country boy I married.
These Things Remain
The barn was disassembled from the homeplace some years back,
‘Cause barnwood was more valuable than barns;
And with it went the stanchions where the cattle used to wait,
The haymow, and the pride in family farms.
The tire swing, the orchard, and the hen house disappeared
About the time you went away to school;
They went the way of duck tails, white bucks with pink and grey,
And big white sidewall tires we thought were cool.
The landscape keeps on changing, and the fads will come and go;
The things of earth can never stay the same.
But some things you can count on and know that they are yours –
Yes, through it all you know these things remain:
The happiness that comes from finding joy in simple things
Like eating supper by the kitchen fire
And watching trees you planted grow so tall they shade the house
Or laughing children swinging on a tire.
And nature still will lavish all its riches without charge,
The golden sunset or the emerald hills,
And dangle crystal drops of rain like diamonds from the leaves--
These simple, lovely gifts are with us still.
Photo by: Angela Kellogg
The place you went to high school has burned down to the ground,
And grass has covered over where it stood.
The apple and the cherry trees you used to like to climb
Have long ago been split for firewood.
A house now stands where you and all your cousins used to strip
For skinny-dippin’ in the quarry hole;
Grandmas, aunts, and uncles are all buried over there
Where evenings we now take our quiet stroll.
And most things keep on changing as time keeps marching on;
You can’t expect them just to stay the same.
For birth and death and growing are a part of every day –
But, even so, my dear, some things remain;
We still can judge a person by the value of his word,
And love is best expressed by what we do.
The milk of human kindness still nurtures those who hurt;
The universe still echoes what is true.
Wisdom and integrity, honest and grace
Will live on after all of us are gone.
And God will make provision for the dark and lonely place;
He knows that we just have to have a song!
These things remain.
We’ve put away the playthings our children thought were great—
The dolls and all the puppets and the stilts,
The “Star Wars” and the Weebles, the Barbies and the Gnomes,
The villages the Lincoln Logs had built.
The swing set sits there silent at the bottom of the hill;
The paddleboat last summer sprang a leak,
And I think our grandson mentioned maybe going with a friend
To look for an apartment late last week.
I guess we can’t expect for things to stay just like they were;
Changes are predictable as rain.
Yet with all the changes, I wanted you to know
Some lovely and eternal things remain:
A home is still the place that you can come to night or day,
And “family” are the folks that take you in.
And those who still believe in you through all your ups and downs
Are still the precious treasure we call “friends.”
The Lord who has been faithful to lead us from the start
Will walk with us until our journey’s through,
And I will walk beside you “for better or for worse” –
I really meant it when I said, “I do”.
© Gloria Gaither 1986
