The first time I spoke at an event with a language interpreter I was a bit thrown off. The interpreter sat in a glassed in room like a sound booth and the people she was speaking to wore earphones. Before we got started, I assured her I didn’t talk really fast and I didn’t think she would have any trouble keeping up with me.

About three minutes into speaking, the crowd laughed. Then 10 seconds after they were quiet, there was a second wave of delayed laugher. I smiled thinking someone in that section of the auditorium said something funny. The second time it happened, I honestly thought either all the slow reactors were sitting together or I had lettuce in my teeth that showed up on the big screen monitors when I smiled.

As it turned out, I was the one who was slow. I had forgotten those listening with the head phones were getting the message a few seconds delayed. I also know translation is generally not word for word, so there’s no telling what I said to that group. When I watch heads of state from foreign countries talking with the president I wonder if ever a war has been diverted because the interpreter softened the message between the two.

Maybe if an interpreter came with a marriage license the divorce rate would drop. Conversations between men and women are similar to two people trying to communicate in two different languages. Have you ever been in conversation when suddenly the person you are talking two says, “Oh, that’s what you mean!”

Even though you know what you’re talking about, assume the person you’re talking to is absolutely clueless. On the flip side make sure you understand what is being said to you without making assumptions. You might be able to divert a war or two without an interpreter.

I remember my first Brownie camera. The roll of film had to be threaded through a slot and the back of the camera closed tightly not to expose it. Then the knob was cranked to get it started. I never could tell if the film caught on the teeth of the roller, so I always opened the back of the camera to check and ruined some of the film. Flash bulbs were needed for indoor shots and there was always so much trash. That’s back when green was just a color in the crayon box.

The camera I have now scares me. It has setting for everything. I know I could almost be professional if I only understood a few of them. Occasionally I take an outstanding picture, purely by accident. It probably would help if I took an hour and read the instruction book.

I have thousands of pictures. I’m digging through boxes of them today to put together picture boards and a video for Dad’s memorial service. How do I choose which ones to use? I get so distracted and my memories wander. It’s wonderful and sad all at the same time.

Sorting through several generations of snapshots, I’ve realized our lives are made up of our memories. The older you get the more you gather. I’m so grateful to sit in the middle of the floor surrounded by reminders of how blessed I am.

A couple of days ago my Dad’s caregiver, Kathy, was feeding him some very thin soup. “Fred,” she said, “you’re going to have to get better so you and I can go out for a cheeseburger.” He turned toward me and said in a loud whisper, “It looks like I’m trying to rob the cradle.” With raised eyebrows, he grinned. Typical, ornery Dad.

That was the last verbal communication I had with him. Then it went to hand squeezes and eyebrow lifts. My Daddy went to heaven yesterday morning.

In my head I understand he’s not hurting any more, but I just wish my heart could catch up to my head. I’ve lost my mom, my brother and now my dad. As strange as it sounds, I think I know kind of how an orphan must feel. So, now I’ll be looking for my new normal.

Here’s to you, Dad, for a life well lived and for the legacy you left. I love you.

One of our family’s favorite movies is Christmas Vacation. We watch it every year some time during the holidays. I’m not really sure why we laugh so hard, as if we’ve never seen it before. Maybe it’s because every family has an Uncle Eddie or Aunt Bethany. However, we’ve not had anyone recite the pledge of allegiance when asked to say the blessing ... yet.

For me, the best line in the movie is when both sets of grandparents show up, unexpectedly, for the week. Clark Griswold assures them, “Come on in. We have plenty of towels, plenty of everything” behind his plastic smile.

The year after we moved to Branson we had a summer-full of Clark Griswold moments ... sure we have plenty of towels. It seems like all I did was wash sheets and towels from the end of May until school started again. I actually kept a running count of all the company we had. Looking back, I wish I’d had a visitors sign in book.

Between Memorial Day and Labor Day there were 14 nights we didn’t have house guests. Ten of those nights I was out of town. It was a tad bit out of control. It got to the point, after a group left, I’d categorize them somewhere on a scale between easy keepers and high maintenance. High maintenance basically expected to be entertained and fed. Easy keepers were happy to hang out and were thrilled with Cheerios for breakfast. My mom used to say fish and company begin to stink after three days. I think it depends if they’re high maintenance or easy keepers.

I did learn a lot that summer. Buy towels and soda when they’re on sale and keep the freezer full. And it’s absolutely socially acceptable to say, “I’m so sorry it’s not going to work out for you to stay with us. The stomach flu has been running through the house.”

I called one of my long time friends who lives in another state just to check up on her. We try to catch up at least three times a year by phone and what we do mostly is laugh. Everyone needs a friend like that. It’s cheaper than therapy.

I filled her in on my last few crazy months then it was her turn. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“Well, we’ve made it through a wedding and a funeral and now I’m trying to assist my mom and mother-in-law with doctor’s appointments and such. I’m also helping my daughter with her kids this summer,” she explained.

“That makes me tired to think about,” I laughed.

“You’ll love this, Suz. The other day I was explaining to my mother-in-law the process of working out a three-way schedule for the summer, she patted me on the arm and said, ‘How nice you have something to occupy our time, honey.’ I almost choked on my Dr. Pepper.”

“Occupy your time?” I said stunned. “Are you kidding? Does she think you are bored? I think the last time I was bored was the summer between fourth and fifth grade. I could use a little boredom, couldn’t you.”

“I don’t remember the last time I woke up and realized I had absolutely nothing I had to do that day. I don’t even know how to be bored. I almost had a panic attack the other day thinking about the whole summer and how I was going to handle it.” She sounded so tired and the summer has just begun.

After we hung up the phone an hour later, I looked up the word bored and this is what Webster’s said: “Feeling weary because one is unoccupied.” I guarantee the majority of us have some of that weary feeling, but it’s not from being unoccupied.

I came across this quote from author E.L. Doctorow: “Writing is like driving a car a night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”

I wonder what it would be like to break our busy lives down that way. If we know the final destination, we don’t have to worry about what we’ll pass along the way, or sometimes even which direction we are going. Instead of letting it overwhelm us, we could take it one little bit at a time. All we need is to see three or four hours out in front of us and we can make the whole day, the whole week, or the whole summer that way.

Years ago I met with a pastor friend when I was struggling with a tough decision. It wasn’t one of biblical proportion and there really wasn’t a right or wrong answer. That’s what made it so challenging.

He shared some of the very best advice I’ve ever received. “So many of us spend intense time trying to discern the will of God for our lives. We tend to complicate things looking for a lightning bolt and three trumpet blasts before we can make a decision. I’m not saying to take lightly big decisions, but I think four words can peel back several layers of the process,” he explained.

“Wow. It’s that simple?” I asked as I leaned forward not to miss anything. “What are those words?”

“If in doubt, don’t.”

“That’s it?” I asked, thinking it was a joke. I wasn’t sure if this was the punch line where I was supposed to offer one of those obligatory laughs.

“Seriously, that’s it,” he smiled. “If you have that nagging feeling of doubt that just won’t leave you alone, it’s best to not ignore it. It may be something as simple as the timing not being right. You also have to sift out if you’re only scared of making a change or if the nagging is a prompt for your decision. That’s up to you. No one else can figure that out for you.” Great advice!

Sometimes when I get overwhelmed, I stall or go into neutral and just stand in one spot trying to sort though what to do first. My friend and mentor, Spike White had another four word decision maker for me once when I was in a floundering neutral mode. “When in doubt, sweep,” he said. “Things always needs to be swept, you accomplish something and it gives you time to sort out what’s stalling you.” More great advice.

So today I might just pick up a broom and think about that nagging tug on my heart. When in doubt don’t or sweep. You’re really safe either way.

It was only a small spot on the garage floor, but then it grew. At first I thought it was condensation from the air conditioner, but water dripping from the car isn’t usually black and slick. Immediately I had a $1,500.00 bill rung up in my head for repairs to a cracked whatever or worn-out something.

When Art himself from Art’s Automotive called later that afternoon I was relieved to learn a $12.00 bolt had to be replaced. All the car needed was a simple adjustment instead of the major overhaul I had conjured up in my head. Why do I instantly think the worst?

So many times things that seem dreadful, only need fine tuning. When a washing machine makes that horrible noise because the load gets heavy on one side, moving just one towel usually stops the whomping. A new printer that spits out blank paper may simply be out of ink, not broken.

A day may start off just fine, but then the dishwasher overflows, a key employee calls in sick and the dog throws up on the new wool rug. Everything looks disastrous, but it’s really three inconveniences that happen to hit all at once. None of those things constitutes an emergency, but piled up it sure can play with your attitude.

Chuck Swindoll once said, “I believe life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.” So when things start to go south and your attitude looks like it’s about to follow, think about that. Consider most of what we let send us into a tailspin is junk that can be simply stepped over without letting it slow us down. Remember trials are inevitable, hissy fits optional. Besides, all that’s probably needed is a minor adjustment.