Awakening before sunrise, the darkness and quiet surrounding me, no sound other than the slow and steady breathing of my wife, sleeping beside me. Quietly I tiptoe into the bathroom, carefully closing the door so you can’t hear so much as the sound of the latch. There is a chill in the air, raising goosebumps on my skin, which are immediately soothed by the comfort of a hot shower. Then, making my way to the closet, I put on my most comfortable jeans and a dress shirt, then sneak out to the kitchen, brew my coffee, grab my suitcase as it rolls behind me to the car, and then again to the airport shuttle bus, through security, and on to the gate.

The Smell of Jet Fuel

My much anticipated break from business travel is over, and as I stand on the jet bridge behind others, I smell the jet fuel and hear the sounds of an airport. Making my way to my seat, I notice no one looks anyone in the eye. They are each in their own world, off to their next adventure.

I’ll Answer Later

My adventure led me last week to San Francisco, to do some prep work for our upcoming artist convention in April. Just as I started the engine of my rental car in the parking garage, my vibrating phone got my attention. If I answer now, I’ll be off schedule, I’m thinking, so I’ll call later. But a premonition I’d had about my mother while I was on the airplane made me glance at the phone, and the word “Mom” was on the screen. So I turned the car off to answer.

My brother is on the phone, sounding panicked — something’s wrong with Mom, she’s fumbling and appears disoriented. “Hang up and call 911 right now.” Click.

Call 911 Now!

The story sounded too familiar. Two years ago my wife had noticed the same fumbling and disorientation in a family friend she was visiting, and her instantly calling 911 ended up saving the woman’s life. A brain tumor was discovered and immediate surgery was needed. And after losing my friend Sean to a stroke, my mind was reeling. After waiting a few minutes to give my brother time to call, I tried and tried to get through but got only a busy signal. That went on for a few hours. All I could think was that 911 told him not to hang up the phone and he left it off the hook.

Feeling Helpless

Panicked, I phoned family members in the area, not entirely sure 911 had been called, and needing feet on the ground immediately to step in and help. Feeling helpless — there was no one else I could call, no information coming in, and yet I had to drive to meetings in San Francisco and try to keep my cool.

Unable to Concentrate

Arriving at the De Young Museum to explore some possibilities and painting locations, I see my colleagues Tom and Ali and a traffic/parking consultant who is helping us determine the best times to visit our chosen locations. I alert them to the fact we might be interrupted at any time, and we go about our business. But my mind isn’t on work, which suddenly seems meaningless. I can’t focus, I can’t concentrate, and I’m wondering how I’m going to get from San Francisco to Fort Lauderdale in a split second.

Hiding Tears

Of course, my mind is thinking the worst. It’s not going to be good news, knowing my wonderful mom is 92, frail, and dealing with some other health issues. If it’s a stroke, this could be the end. Tears well up in my eyes, and I turn around to wipe them, trying not to let others notice I’m tearing up.

My Worst Fears Confirmed

While we’re discussing parking, my phone rings in mid-sentence. It’s my brother, saying Mom has had a stroke, the MRI shows a giant clot in her brain, and she is in surgery now. “Say your prayers,” he says, and I utter them quietly after he hangs up.

Now that my fears are confirmed, I flash back to New Year’s week, when we were together. Every goodbye brings the thought that maybe this is the last time we see one another. Perhaps this time it may be true. I keep praying quietly to myself while trying to stay engaged in the meeting.

Beauty and Fear at the Same Moment

We drive through Lands End, right by the Legion of Honor art museum, where the giant cedar trees line a view of the ocean, with a distant view of the Golden Gate Bridge. This is one of the most beautiful spots I could ever imagine painting in my life, and I painted there many times when I lived in San Francisco. Here I am again, trying to enjoy the view and determine if it’s a painting spot for the convention. Again, the phone rings.

An Unexpected Surprise

My brother tells me Mom is out of surgery, that they went in through her veins and pulled the clot out, and he hands the phone to Mom. And though she’s groggy, she starts talking to me as if nothing happened. She doesn’t remember a thing, and, typical grandma fashion, she is asking me about my son, who had just had a minor surgery. We talk, we hang up. All is well.

Act Fast, Don’t Wait

As it turns out, there is about a two-hour window for stroke victims, and, thanks to my brother being there at the right time, taking swift action, and EMS getting her to the right hospital when the surgeon who does this procedure happened to be there (he lives 30 minutes away), they got the clot out before it had done any noticeable damage.

My mom had just experienced a miracle. Miracle of medicine, miracle of timing, miracle of the right hospital that happens to do this procedure, and miracle of prayer.

It’s amazing to me how in a single instant, the mind compresses to focus on what’s important, and pushes out all the little things that don’t matter.

Annoying Parents

As a parent, my kids roll their eyes at me, sometimes think I’m stupid, give me grief for things that bother them, and there are moments when I can feel their disgust. And I have to admit that as an adult child of aging parents, I’m often frustrated by their decisions, and it’s easy to be critical, to get upset, and to be bothered or annoyed.

Yet a single phone call in a split second pushed all of that aside and distilled what is truly important.

Estrangement Why?

I can understand estrangement in some cases because parents or family members have done horrific things, making avoidance the best policy. Yet estrangement because of differing opinions, anger over the way you were raised, anger over little things that become amplified and become big things over years of repetition is hard for me to understand.

Doing the Best We Can

As a parent, I do what I know and I try to do the best that I can. Yet I tell my kids to save their money for therapy, because I’m sure something will bug them when they are adults. The fact that I dragged them to art museums, or made them do their homework, or made them get jobs when their friends didn’t have to work.

Instant Clarity

And in spite of all the things my brothers and I could find wrong with our own parents and their decisions at the time they were raising us, all those rolled eyes and moments of annoyance disappear when that phone call comes in. I know in my heart they did the best they knew how to do, and though we all may think other families are perfect, my guess is that few are.

Move On

I suppose my point in all of this is to just say that I’m grateful I could talk to my mom one more time when I thought I never would, and that I don’t know how many more hours, days, weeks, years, or decades I’ll have my parents and my family members. I need to move on beyond the wounds, be forgiving, accept them for who they are, and give them as much time and attention as I can. Whatever the issues: Move on, get over it.

The Last Thing I See

When I’m on my own deathbed, I don’t need my big screen TV or my favorite painting or some physical object. I need the hands of my family touching my hands, and I want their faces to be the last thing I see before seeing the face of God.

My friend Skip once told me, “I’d give up my entire bank account, my home, my car, and everything I own just to have one more half hour with my mom or dad. You’re lucky to have them. Make sure you spend time with them while you can.”

I Wish…

I’ve been to too many funerals where sobbing family members have uttered the words “I wish I’d … spent more time, talked to them more, listened more, visited more.”

Today is the day to reach out … touch base … visit … hug … listen … because tomorrow you may get a call.

Get It Done Today

It’s also a reminder to us all that we may, in an unexpected instant, become the victim of a health problem. Not only do we need to connect with those we love, we need to boldly not allow anything to get in the way of our joy, and do the things we want to do, even if there is some fear attached. Someday may never come, so do those things today. Take some risks to enrich your life, and don’t let anything get in the way. Tomorrow may not come.

Eric Rhoads

PS: My friend Tony Bennett made a San Francisco song famous, and, though the city is getting some negative publicity and facing some challenges — some of which I saw — it remains a magical place. I left my heart there, too. I lived there for 10 years, and visiting recently filled my heart with memories of why I love that place so much. It may be one of the most amazing places an artist can visit, and I’d live there again, even now. I’ll return in April for our Plein Air Convention and am excited to do so, because it will be a magical event in a magical place. By the way, the De Young Museum will have a Monet: The Late Years exhibition while we are there, and it’s sure to sell out. So if you’re going, and want to see it, as I do, order your tickets early.

Since today is April 1, it crossed my mind to invent an elaborate scheme, a story to fool you. Yet because it’s also Easter, that seemed a bit irreverent. It’s pretty rare that the two holidays fall together.

Today is a day of fools and jokes, but it’s also a day of resurrection and renewal. So I’ll start with some Easter groaners and end with resurrection:

How do you know the Easter Bunny is really smart?
Because he’s an egghead.

Where does the Easter Bunny get his eggs?
From eggplants.

What happened to the Easter Bunny when he misbehaved at school?
He was egg-spelled!

Did you hear about the lady whose house was infested with Easter eggs?
She had to call an eggs-terminator!

What day does an Easter egg hate the most?
Fry-days.

How do bunnies stay healthy?
Egg-sercise.

What do you call a mischievous egg?
A practical yolker.

OK, enough Easter jokes.

Pranks on April First

As a kid I used to love April Fools’ Day. We used to get up early in the morning to trick the rest of the family — things like putting food dye inside the water faucets or plastic buckets of confetti over the doors. I have fond memories. I also loved Easter. I had a bright red sportcoat, and under it I’d wear my James Bond hidden holster (toy gun, of course). We would go to church with family, then gather at one of our grandparents’ homes with cousins. It was a blast.

To this day, even though the kids are 16, we’ll still hide Easter eggs and they’ll have a blast hunting for them. They still love these traditions.

Challenging Holidays

Easter for many of us is a time when we’re together with friends and family, and, like Christmas or other family gatherings, there can sometimes be difficult moments or unresolved pain. Sometimes people hurt us so badly that we find time does not heal all wounds after all. Instead we cling to our stories, and never cut anyone a break for doing stupid things, being human, or making bad choices. So those hurts get carried from holiday to holiday, amplified, rarely healed, and sometimes we cheat ourselves out of those family moments because we don’t want to face those we believe hurt us. It’s called avoidance, and most of us have done it from time to time. I know I have.

A Lesson Finally Sank In

Sometimes it takes me decades to learn important lessons. Maybe I heard them and refused to listen, maybe I didn’t want to hear them or wasn’t ready, but this one finally sank in. Forgiveness isn’t about others. It’s about us.

When I Got Bullied

When I was in the 6th grade, I was severely bullied by a rotten kid I grew up around. I’m not sure why I was his target, but he did everything possible to annoy me and get me in trouble, and, because he often sat behind me, I got lots of things thrown at me. It got old, but I was not strong enough or did not have the courage to fight back. So I took it, got laughed at a lot, was often embarrassed, and could not wait till I got away from him. But he was behind me in 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. It was four years of difficulty. I worried so much about it that I got ulcers. He would make such horrible threats, and, still having a young, immature brain, I believed him. Some days I pretended to be sick just to avoid school.

The Weight of Hate

I hate to admit it because I’m not a hate-filled guy, but I carried hatred for this kid well into my adult years. It ate away at me from time to time even as an adult. Seems silly now, yet we all tend to carry old stuff.

I had heard sermons about forgiveness, but this kid had hurt me so badly, had angered me and frightened me so much, that I could not let go of that anger, and it kept building inside.

Wisdom of Friends

Then one day it came up in a discussion with a friend, and he said two things that really hit home. First he said, “This kid bullied you for four years, and you are still giving him power over you for something that is only a fraction of your life. Don’t give him any more power. Let go.”

Look for the Motivation

Then he said, “When you look back on this as an adult, why do you think he did this?”

I thought about it and it came to me that maybe he was hurting, maybe he was being bullied, maybe his parents were abusive, maybe he was jealous of my happy family — or maybe he was just a rotten kid, but that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him.

Self-Destruction

My friend told me I needed to stop being angry because anger eats away at you, actually changes your physiology, and by not forgiving that kid, I was hurting myself. I wasn’t forgiving him because I didn’t want to let go of my anger. I rarely thought of him, but I steamed every time that I did. And on Sundays, each time the preacher would ask “Is there someone you have not forgiven for something they did to you?” that kid’s name would come to mind.

When I forgave him, I felt a new peace, and healing of an old wound.

Caring Too Deeply?

I know a lot of us hold on to anger because we think we had bad parents who should have done things differently. Yet I guarantee you that most of those “bad” parents cared very deeply. The problem is they cared so deeply, they may have pushed too hard to protect you from the bad things they knew about that you had not discovered. Chances are they wanted better for you.

Good Intentions?

Most parents have good intentions, but maybe they had no role models, no examples of how to do it right. Maybe they didn’t have the benefit of education or understanding. Whatever it was, unless they were actively abusive, they probably meant well. Even those who do horrific things may have been passing it on because of horrific role models. Though it’s not an excuse, it helps us understand why.

Parenting is hard, and even if we try to give our kids an ideal life, chances are there will be something that bugs them. Someone got more attention, someone got a better Christmas gift. We have to understand that most parents do the best they know how.

And even if you had relatives or others who did terrible things to you, you can forgive them — and still write them out of your life. Remember, forgiveness is about YOUR inner peace.

Sometimes I’m Burning Mad

I don’t get mad very often, but sometimes someone really wrongs me and it really hurts me and makes me mad — hurt usually becomes anger. Things like finding people were sharing your darkest secrets behind your back, people gossiping, people lying, people ranting on social media about you when they’ve never even met you. I get so angry that I want to stay mad, but that’s only giving them power and hurting me.

Who comes to mind at this moment that you don’t want to forgive?

Who hurt you in some way that makes you just want to scream?

There is new life in letting go, in forgiveness.

If you were in a 12-step program like AA, they would tell you to call or meet and ask for forgiveness. I agree that can be the best step, and very cathartic. Yet you just need to close your eyes and forgive. Truly let go.

Though it can be helpful to try and understand why, it ultimately doesn’t matter. Some things cannot be explained. You just need to stop letting your past hold power over you and trigger anger in your heart. And you don’t have to visit or call the person who hurt you, especially if it doesn’t feel safe. You are doing this for yourself.

Personal Resurrection

Today is celebrated because Christians believe that three days after his death, as predicted, Christ rose from the grave, proving that he had died for their sins.

Whether that appeals to you or not, there is personal resurrection, a change in your heart, when you let go of hurt and anger and forgive those you believe hurt you.

I Had No Idea

By the way, the person you are angry at might not even know. A few weeks ago an artist friend called me and told me I had said something that hurt him and made him feel bullied. I had no idea. Yet he had hung on to it for a year or more without saying anything because he did not want to make a big deal about it. Though I don’t know if he has forgiven me, I did ask for his forgiveness, and I think we healed our wounds. I cannot control anyone else and what they think, I can only create forgiveness in my own heart.

Anyone in Mind?

If anyone comes to mind who has angered you, who has wronged you knowingly or not, who has not always been the person you wanted them to be, you’ll never fully heal that wound until you forgive.

What if we all use today to heal, to ask forgiveness, to resurrect our families and our relationships, to reach out and, if nothing more, just let them know they are loved. Maybe then we can be silly fools together again like old times.

There is no need to bring up old stuff. Just go into a quiet space, close your eyes and think about where forgiveness is needed, and grant it. You’ll be doing something big for yourself, so that healing can occur.

 

Eric Rhoads