Two Balloons

On her way to pick-up our granddaughter, Landrye, from KidsQuest Day Camp today, Nancy stopped and bought two balloons — a black one and a white one.

With Landrye right beside her, she made her way to the foot of the majestic and moving sculpture, Jacob’s Dream.  Towering high above, Jacob’s ladder to heaven is filled with angels — the largest known depiction of this Old Testament story in the world.  As a spot for special moments, this little bit of West Texas real estate is prime.

A guessing game ensued between grandmother and granddaughter, “What is special and black and white?”

The answers tumbled out rapidly,  “A zebra.  A panda.  A white tiger.”

“Think of one at our house.  Black and white and really special.”

“Snoopy!”

Nancy smiled as she thought of our little dog.  Mottled with black and white fur, she won hearts with her incredibly attractive face and soulful eyes.  Over fourteen years old and a sweetheart, Snoopy was technically a farm dog.  For a number of years, she had been Nancy’s dad’s companion.  Criss-crossing the half-section of farmland, she had proudly chased barn cats and occasional wild turkeys.  Primarily she was known for her tail-wagging.  Standing maybe 8 inches tall to the top of her head, she was a bundle of energy.

When we lost Nancy’s dad, Snoopy moved to her adopted home in the city.  She was a wonderful companion to our old beagle for several years until Tipi moved on to a place in our memories.  Snoopy became the center of our attention and she lavished love on us.

Early this morning, Snoopy spent her last moments with us and on this earth.  Worsening seizures and other complications of a dog whose life would be measured at almost 100 human years brought her to that point of no return.  She left us with her same spirit of sweetness.

The news of her passing was not shared with everyone.

Nancy now turned to Landrye.  “The black balloon stands for our sadness.  The white balloon reminds us of the gladness we feel when we think of God’s care for all creatures great and small.  Now, when we think of Snoopy, we see her released from the pain that her many years brought her.  In our hearts, she’s a puppy again.”

As the balloons left their hands and floated skyward, granddaughter and grandmother felt their sadness and their gladness weave together into a memory.  Landrye understood.  A friend had been lost.

We often measure the passing of someone or some thing loved by releasing only one balloon.  The dark one.  The one of questions.  The one that drains our energy.

Today, Nancy reminded Landrye and me — and now you — of that all-important, all-healing second balloon.

When life presents sadness, God provides gladness.  And that gladness never overshadows the sadness.  Instead it twists together with the threads of difficulties and misfortune to form a fabric that stretches heavenward — our bridge to a loving and caring God.

‘Taken Identity

I don’t get as many letters from credit card companies as I used to.  You see, a little over a year ago, heeding the dire warnings of those who guarantee to protect me from identity bandits, I signed up with a service that monitors my credit accounts and warns me if some dastardly persons are using my good name in a way that drains my money and ruins my reputation.  One of the side benefits is that this service also puts my name on a number of “don’t solicit” lists.

I also signed up for the “do not call me during dinner” service provided by the federal government.  I still have companies calling me — I don’t really expect a government service to be entirely effective (guess there’s still a bit of Republican hanging on) — but now we just use our caller id to screen out those nuisance calls.  Of course, some make their way through and leave messages that I have little interest in.  Mostly political calls (which are exempt from the do not call register) and usually recorded messages from our governor and congressman — both Republicans, by the way.

If you’re thinking that I’m writing here about political affiliation, let me assure you that I’m not — and I am.  What I’m really talking about here is how we take a combination of experiences and brand people with an identity that fits our purposes.

So, if you’re a Republican, it’s easier for you to talk with me about politics if you can assign me the label of Republican or Democrat.  You may get a little edgy if I tell you I’m an Independent or a Libertarian.  I’m not, but let me confuse things even further.  I am actually a member of the “informed voter” party.  And no, that doesn’t mean that I’m really a Republican or a Democrat.  I have definite views and beliefs.  However, you can’t neatly box me in with anyone else.  I can’t vote a straight ticket.

Beyond political parties, we like branding people as liberal or conservative, moderate or progressive, capitalist or communist.  It’s just easier for us.  This spills over into other areas of life, as well.  If we perceive that a person is not as adept in our mother tongue as we are, we talk to them differently.  Have you ever listened in on your conversations with a baby or small child?  Or a foreign speaker?  Or someone with less education?  Or someone from a different race or culture?  It’s often obvious that we choose to categorize such folks rather than to talk to them (and more importantly, about them) as people.

Instead of taking someone else’s private information in order to steal money or misdirect communication, I believe that I may often be guilty of taking personal identities and changing them to what is most convenient to me.  I assign motives and characteristics.  I blame. I seek to exalt myself.

Perhaps I am an identity thief, of sorts.

For today, at least, I’m pledging to drop my labeling scheme.  For today, I will listen to each person who crosses my path as an individual who is worthy of my respect — free from bias.  For today, I promise not to steal the identities of others simply to recraft them for my gain.

Might be a good day to visit with me.

Might even make tomorrow a better day.