Ferndale Seniors : Lessons Of Life

Ferndale Seniors : Lessons Of Life

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By Jeannie Davis

A FEW YEARS BACK, I WAS READING Don Levin’s first murder mystery, set in Ferndale and titled “Crimes of Love.” The main character, a detective, was interviewing a young struggling artist in his studio. As he turned to go, the detective noted that the artist was good, and the kid lit up. As he left, the detective ponders how we withhold approval and complimentary things just because we can.

That so struck me. Just because I can, I will with-hold telling you something that would make you feel good. I recognized this in myself. That little bit of nastiness that comes out. Do we do it to feel powerful? Are we spiteful? Will we feel threatened if this person feels good?

Whatever the rationale since I read that book, I have endeavored to tell people when I admire some-thing. Whether it is a quality they have, something they are wearing, or something they have accomplished. I sure wasn’t looking to change my outlook by reading a murder mystery, but, there you have it. I only hope that I have made people feel good along the way.

Again, many years ago, I was touring Cranbrook with the seniors. We had been there quite a while, and had seen a good bit of stuff already. Our guide asked if we wanted to see still one more garden. “Why not, we’re here now” barked Virginia. I turned and stared at her as she casually glanced around, completely unaware of the impact her statement had made on me.

I had always been a hurry-up, do-the-tour, get-done-and-go-home kind of person. No side trips, no detours. That incident changed my outlook, and now I can dawdle with the best of them and get more out of my experiences.

These are little things, and in the grand scheme of things not particularly life-changing, but they do help. Also, I am not saying that everything you hear and read necessarily has a message. However, we need to be open to receive these hints when they come.

My grandmother, who helped raise me, was a source of thought-provoking statements. She was a strong woman who tolerated no nonsense. Her husband froze to death one night. He was returning from yet another evening at the local bar. He left her broke to raise seven kids. And she did. She did well enough to be comfortable in her old age.

She always told me not to always be looking for a man. Her claim was that we only needed a man when we had a flat tire, or couldn’t get the lid off the pickles. Now that’s pretty clear advice, and I understood perfectly.

She wasn’t always so clear, and some of the things she said still puzzle me. One day as I was crying because the neighborhood kids wouldn’t play with me, she said: “You can lead a horse to water Jeanette, but before you push him in remember how bad a wet horse smells.” Now if you can figure out what she was saying, let me know. Please. Another thing she said if somebody was a complainer was: “He would kick if you hung him with a new rope.” Never figured out that one either.

I guess, we have to be open to meanings in everything. Not a bad way to be I suppose.

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