Putting Mr. Linkletter’s Wisdom to Use…Mostly
I love coincidences. And the other day I was wondering what my next blog post should be and it landed right in my lap.
I’m still practicing at using Art Linkletter’s wise words from my previous post (see “Thank You, Mr. L”). I’m finding it’s tough to stick to my new mantra A) with the smallish situations (child all squinty in a school picture), and B) when in the throes of a revved up fight-or-flight occasion (like when my son suffered a concussion and I was 30 minutes away). A recent conundrum lands somewhere in the middle but I thought how funny it was that life threw a curveball right after sharing Mr. L’s wisdom here on this blog.
My son missed the school bus ride home in a collective series of events out of his control. I won’t bore you with the details. The school called 10 minutes before my other two kids arrived home on the bus and I told the secretary I’d come in to pick up my boy after collecting them.
Firstly, the bus arrived late at our stop. Then I needed to rearrange my daughter’s planned-out playdate, which was no problem and ended up including my other son who did make it home on the bus. Great. However, in the process of sorting this out, my son needed-to-go-to-the-bathroom-it-was-an-emergency-situation kinda deal (without revealing details, suffice it to say this took several minutes.). Ok. Then the neighbor girl walking the route home with us felt sick to her stomach and needed some water and a sit-down (at our house). Her parents weren’t home and she needed an adult. A no-brainer, of course I’ll help! Guiltily, though, I’m getting ansy…I needed to get my stranded son!!! Then the doorbell rings…REALLY? It’s a stranger from the netherregions of our subdivision asking me questions about our own next door neighbors. You gotta be kidding. Even though I am having visions of my little boy sitting at the curbside of the school because I am late and the office closed and he feels abandoned, I patiently ask this person what-in-the-(ahem)-does-she-want-and-why-involve-me? (no, I did not say anything like that…I was nice.). Never mind the details of that conversation because it was ridiculous and she went away pretty quickly.
So in a nutshell, I was incredibly late to get my son; in fact, I should have already been at the school but was instead standing in my driveway. I put out many, varied fires…but my lonely son really needed me! And as a final driving incentive, the wonderful lady who took my other kids needed to be OTD to get her son from preschool in about the time it would take me to return home with my middle child. I. had. to. leave. .
On the outside, I looked pretty together. On the inside, I was a wreck. A culmination of events outside my control conspired against the simple act of my driving to school. My brain whirled as I took off into town, a tad bit fast for the curves and grade of the road. And then, finally, somehow, Art’s words seeped into my brain:
Things turn out best
for those who make the best
of the way things turn out.
It was like a natural mind/body relaxant. I felt the absurdity of the last half hour dissipate. Gone. I couldn’t have predicted the odd chain of events but I had taken care of it without losing it: our neighbor girl felt better, my son found relief and the strange woman went away happy. My kiddo at the school would be there when I arrived, maybe even playing with some of the other children who also missed the bus for the same reasons. In short, I felt better. Calm. Totally Zen. IT WOULD ALL BE OK. Everything would turn out for the best.
And it did, better than best, really. Perfectly. Will was sitting in the still-lit and unlocked school office. I arrived home to get his sibs so the other mom could pick up her own son. If I hadn’t kept my head (barely) and more importantly, hadn’t remembered Mr. Linkletter’s wisdom, I may have had a car accident. Talk about things not turning out for the best.
And the icing on the cake? I scored another blog post.
