WHO GIFTED YOU WITH FAITH, NOT IN A HIGHER POWER, BUT IN YOU?
Topic #213: Who was the first person who believed in you? How did you discover this was true? Have you played a similiar role for anyone in your life?
My father was first. I was as he said “His curly-headed cowgirl.” Now the truth be, my hair was thin and stick straight. In fact, I had no hair until I was over three, hence my grandfather’s nick name for me–Billy Nye, a bald comedian of the time. But it was my father who made me feel loved no matter what, who made me feel special and lucky to be me.
Others gave me faith in me, my Aunt Dot who taught me to crochet when my mother refused, a riding instructor who taught me to get back on, Old Tom who taught me about rising above oppression, so many teachers I can’t name them all, and finally friends and lovers.
Perhaps the strongest and longest enduring has been my husband. He is Mr. Critic, Mr. Tell it like it. Living with him is sometimes like living with coarse-grained sandpaper. Interesting, that living with sandpaper is how I describe life with my mother. Sadly, she made me feel I did not and never would measure up.
David is sandpaper that comes with seeing me as I am, and believing I am incredible. Mr. Critic thinks, despite the flaws he points out, that I am one of the smartest people in the world, almost a stand-up comedian, definitely an Iron Chef, a technological and mechanical genius–I am the family fixer, a good person, his best friend, and at 74. still a sexy lady. Who could ask for anything more? I certainly won’t. I
I hope I have given that feeling to some, I try and some have said I have succeeded. One of my nicer memories is encouraging a ward clerk to go to college; she ended up getting her master’s degree in social work and directing the department where she once clerked. She claims I set her on that path. Makes me proud of me, although I know she would have gotten there anyway.
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