The experience of pain or loss can be a formidably motivating force. –
John C. Maxwell
I was in my mid-twenties. It was a quiet night, and I had just gotten home from work. My parents were getting ready for bed, I waved hello, and I went into the kitchen, to grab something to drink. I stood at the counter facing the TV, and I thought, “I’m so wired, I’ll watch some Television to chill a bit.” I took a big gulp of ice water as I headed to the couch but was startled by the loud ring of the phone, making me spill the water. Our phone was mustard yellow and mounted firmly on the kitchen wall. “Who is calling at this time?” I thought while I contemplated not answering, but I did. I grabbed the phone, held it with my shoulder to my ear as I wiped all the water from my top. I answered, and the voice on the other end said, “Yes…may I speak to Mr. or Mrs. Acevedo?”
“They are not available at this time,” I replied, to which she answered, “It’s important I speak with them, there has been an incident with a person by the name of Eduardo Acevedo,” My heart sank, as she explained that someone had to give consent for surgery. I screamed and dropped the phone, my father rushed out of his room, ready to scold me for making so much noise. He looked at me and knew something was up. He picked up the phone and said, “This is Mr. Acevedo.” Silence. I still remember his hand on this forehead, his face dropping down, and with a voice that I had never heard before, said, “yes, I give consent.” He seemed motionless as he stood there, nervously wrapping the extra-long entangled phone cord with his fingers.
My father and mother were not people to show much emotion. I never heard, “I love you,” It was the standard in our house, and we never really questioned it. Even now, we find it hard to display the love we have for each other. We know it, and that’s enough. But at that moment, my father’s vacant eyes spoke loudly. He told my mother to get ready to go to the hospital. We lived in a small town which was a bit far from the city, so it took a while to get there. While driving, there was no sound. From the backseat, I could see my mother clenching her hands together in prayer, and her lips moving softly in worship. When we got to the hospital, they informed us that he had had an aneurysm he fell in the cafeteria and was now needing to drain blood from his brain. He was in a coma, and three weeks later, my 32-year-old brother died.
Why am I writing about this? I know many of us are scared of change during difficult times. But sometimes change can serve as a cleansing. Our mind, body, and soul need to re-charge, even in the times that it’s almost impossible. We are not exempt from pain. Neither are we from joy. Why is it that we concentrate more on the pain? Why don’t we force ourselves to see and make the changes we require to live a better life? I know this is hard to hear, but it’s even harder to live years in denial. We nourish our ego when we project on to others what we don’t want to see about ourselves. Our insecurity will distract us from humbling ourselves to the truth and never being open to hearing. I always say we are all victims of something. My brother didn’t live a good life. He was depressed, lonely, and didn’t take care of his health. His talents could have taken him far, but instead, he drove a cab. He lived with many demons and never wanted to hear reason.
When we deny our spirit to find peace, we are also selfish with those we say we love. The best thing we can do for those we love is taking a long look in the mirror and be real. My friend asked me this. “Let’s say you were obliged to warn someone about a person they want to date. You know this person’s emotional baggage, which could bring problems. Now let’s say the person you are warning ‘about’ is you. What warning would you give them? It may surprise you that you may not come up with an answer right away. I agree that the rule is not to put ourselves down, but we do have to face our downfalls. We all have had heartaches, some more than others. We’ve all cried, been scared, and laughed. We’ve all felt betrayed by someone. We’ve all had losses, but we’ve also had wins. Life is difficult, but it’s also a wondrous miracle in which God and the Universe are in command. A good life is our responsibility, and no one else’s. When faced with hard times, we ignore the opportunity to learn. We are stubborn people. We are defensive and have a “but” for everything. We don’t know how to forgive ourselves for the mistakes we’ve made. Remember that to find the real you, you must let go of the pretended you.
So, the point is to be real, to be true, and to be humble. Live by the golden rule, and we will all be ok. Even the worse of times will seem less painful because peace will embrace you. Admit to your downfalls and work through them. Don’t let one of those losses be you.