The Path to Calgary

He taught with mirth and showered with love,
Preached to all about the one above,
Performed miracles, healing body and soul,
And pray to the Father, His name to extol.
But still, they would not listen!

He healed the leper, cured the blind,
All earthly possessions he left behind,
Forgave them all, both Sinner and Saint,
But still, they could not escape the taint
Of their collective sin from long ago.

He rode triumphantly through Jerusalem's gate,
And set in motion what was forever his fate,
He built a whip with a leather thong,
Upturned the carts, chastised the throng.
But they would not repent.

He prayed in the garden that his cup would pass,
But the Father told Him to show them at last,
So he carried the cross up Calgary Hill,
God's mission in mercy he had to fulfill.
And after he had arisen, some listened and believed,

Growing Old with Boots the Dog

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He is old now but once he was young,
Our Bernese-Chow Boots with the big red tongue,
We got him the day when I was really sick,
So, my wife and daughter said we better get him quick,
Because Dad won’t notice while he is asleep,
We can bring him in the back while he is snoring deep.

Later that day from my slumber I awoke,
And from surprise and pneumonia, I thought I’d choke.
I said what’s this dog that looks like a bear,
And when he sheds, you’ll need to clean up his hair.

But Kendall begged to keep our dog-bear Boots.
“I need a friend since Kyle is leaving, and isn’t he cute?”
I said OK, but keep him out of my way,
Because at that time I was all work, and no play.

But later I found that Boots was just like me,
We both loved my wife and the family,
And I was overweight and looked a bit like a bear,
We both had heart problems, so we had to take care.

My wife took us for walks, last chance workouts, we called it,
Because both Boots and I had to get fit.
And as we trained and struggled, we both got better,
Boots in his long hair and I in my sweater,
And I came to love that dog who was just like me,
Who loved nature, birds, and especially trees!

The years grew long and both of us got old,
Our joints got creaky, and our noses cold,
But Boots had one last lesson to teach,
One of patience and love, that we often preach –
But Seldom Do.

For you see Boots is now older than 102,
But his love is pure, and his heart is true,
He circles the house to grasp one more day,
And sometimes barks, when it is not OK.

But I have grown to love him and feel blessed,
To have one more day to clean up his mess,
With our dog Boots, who is just like me,
A cherished member of our family.
Don Grier

Yoked to Jesus: Finding Strength Through Adversity

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Plowing the Hills of Calvaro

Introduction

This a parable story suitable for middle school students and above about the following excerpt from Matthew 11: 28-30. Questions follow.

28 “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.

29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.

30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

The Yoking

I remember the conversation as clearly as yesterday when I was told that Jesús and I would be harnessed together for the plowing season.

“I can’t believe Farmer Hector yoked me to old Jesús,” I neighed to my friend Buck. “What is the Farmer thinking? Does he want to plow the pasture all Spring? To leave the pasture fallow at harvest time. I thought he would pick someone young and strong like you, Buck, or Diablo since we would get it done quickly. What is he thinking?”

Stumble then Learn

But in hindsight, I was wrong! Jesús slowed me down initially when I was galloping too fast. But I soon realized slower was better in the rocky pasture, where stones can splinter a hoof, as I did one brisk morning when I felt frisky. But to my surprise, old Jesús pulled us long and more than made up for my injury during the days I was recovering.

After I was healed, I was ready and raring to go. Jesús, let me plod on, seeming to take no interest in our work. He let me carry a good bit of the load since I had learned my lesson about the rocks and looked to avoid them. It tested my patience and resilience, but I was determined to do my best.

Jesús’s seeming lack of interest worried me as we approached the Hill of Calvaro. With the end of spring coming, we had just a few days left to get the plowing done. Farmer Hector loved to terrace the hill because the crops grew better in the cooler climate.

Climbing the Hill of Calvaro

Jesús again surprised me as he picked up the pace. It took both of us to pull up that devilish hill. I saw Jesús matching my steps and pulling me forward when I faltered. The last drive took all Jesús had, but he did not complain as he lay panting and heaving. Until, at last, his heart gave out just as we crested the Hill of Cavaro. Farmer Hector buried him there where he fell, on that hallowed hill. Jesús died at 33 years, a ripe age for a plow horse.

The Lesson

A few days later (three, I think), Farmer Hector and I stopped at a lake before returning to the homestead. We looked up and were amazed. In the deep blue sky was one lone cloud shaped like old Jesús. Farmer Hector said under his breath, “Could it be?” He just shook his head doubtfully. But I could have sworn, in the whispering wind, I heard Jesús whinny, “Remember.”

And I have tried to remember! I may not be as patient and as strong as old Jesús. Nor has the harvest from the fields I have plowed ever matched our harvest that Autumn. But I try as best I can to impart the lessons that I learned while yoked to Jesús.

Questions

1. Think of a time when you did something without Jesus by your side. How did that turn out?

2. Now, how about a time when Jesus carried the load for you?

3. Have you ever thought that Jesus was no longer with you? In hindsight, was that a time for growth?

4. What crosses do you have, and how might walking yoked to Jesus help you?

A Weave of Life Lessons This Election Day

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Today, I have a lot on my mind. It is the 22nd anniversary of my Dad, Big D, passing, and it is election day. So, in honor of my Dad, to celebrate our democracy and organize the many thoughts in my head, I will attempt what former President Trump calls the weave.

My definition of the weave is connecting several lines of disparate thought to develop a consistent theme. Today’s weave will hopefully create a tapestry of life lessons that lead to wellness. The thread that ties this weave together is the many lessons I learned from my father and how they have helped me become a better person. So, let’s start weaving.

Big Russ and Me

I find myself missing Tim Russert this election day. Tim Russert was and still is my favorite journalist. He was the epitome of authenticity and enthusiasm for our democracy. The longtime host of Meet the Press, he was thorough, insightful, and always civil but challenging in his questioning. I used to watch Meet the Press every Sunday but now seldom watch Sunday news programs.

Another reason I miss Tim Russert is his dedication to family. He wrote one of my favorite memoirs, Big Russ & Me, about his relationship with his father, Big Russ, and the lessons he learned from him.

Big Russ and Tim’s relationship reminded me of my one with my Dad, Big D. The similarities are uncanny. Both raised four children with their wives, did not finish high school, had blue-collar jobs, and served in the military. Believe it or not, both worked on a Garbage truck. But most importantly, they both taught life lessons that made their sons better people.

I will not write a book like Tim for this election day weave of lessons (although I could and will someday). Instead, I will provide the top five lessons I learned from my Dad, resonating even more loudly 22 years after his passing.

Get the Iron Out of the Door.

What is the iron? Where’s the door? Iron refers to large turbines that generate electricity in dams. Big D was a steelworker/machinist, and it was his job to repair the turbines and get them out the door as quickly as possible to their destinations worldwide. Equally important was ensuring the turbines did not have to come back through the door: this required diligence, consistency, and hard work.

The lesson is to learn your craft, roll up your sleeves, and work daily at your vocation and for your family. For more on this lesson and how I applied it to my career in information technology, please read my blog, Getting the Iron Out the Door.

There is Always Room for Improvement.

My dad was good at getting the iron out the door, but he was always looking for ways to make his team get it done faster, cheaper, and with higher quality. Likewise, he taught us that no matter how well you do, there is always room for improvement.

He applied this lesson to his personal life. As mentioned earlier, Big D and Big Russ had not graduated high school. My dad left school to help his mom and family and entered the Air Force. He got his GED, machinist journeyman certification, and further education in a community college.

I remember him returning after overtime at DeLaval and practicing the words fuma and puma in Spanish very intently. Over 50 years later, I can still hear him practicing to better communicate with his fellow union workers.

One more story about improvement from this lesson. Improvement does not come quickly. You must make slow, steady practice. Big D demonstrated this aspect by building a lake on his retirement property.

I remember the first time my Dad started building the lake. He had just got the backhoe and had begun scraping out a ditch. He took my brother and me out there. Then, pointing to a muddy gouge with a few puddles, he said proudly, “Look at my lake!”.

My brother and I started laughing. Dad said, “Why are you laughing?”. My bother pointed out, “Dad, when you say lake, it connotates images of water! This is not a lake. It is a puddle.” Dad just shook his head, climbed in his backhoe, and said, “You will see smart alecks.”

And we saw. A year or two later, there was a full-fledged lake. The following year, fish were in the lake and on a dock. But Dad kept tweaking the lake up to the day he died.

We wondered why he did this since he proved his point and gave us our initial lesson. Having returned to the land recently with the direct coordinates in hand, I found an aerial picture revealing he built the lake in the shape of Texas! If you want to see the before and after pictures, read our blog, The Return: Have A Vision as Big as Texas. And always look for ways to improve!

Be Tough, But Have A Heart.

One area in which my Dad did not need much improvement was toughness. My brother tells a great story about my Dad at one of the campouts that Dad hosted for my brother’s fraternity. Big D had fallen asleep too close to the fire, and one of his cowboy boots started burning! The fraternity brothers shook my Dad awake, yelling Big D! Big D! Your boot is on fire. Big D, not batting an eye, took off the boot, smashed it in the dirt, extinguished the fire, and said, “I am the toughest SOB that ever walked the face of the earth.”

Big D was tough due to his childhood, but he still had a big heart. He taught us that you must be firm but fair and have a heart for others. I best learned this lesson when I ran away from home.

When I was 16, I made the rash decision to run away. I was distressed that I was moving away from my home in New Jersey and losing my friends. I thought the world was ending, but really, it was only beginning.

I do not know how he knew where I was going, but my Dad found me. He told me that he was sorry and that I was tough. He then explained that we needed to move to Texas to make a better life. He then hugged me, and I got in the car. There was no yelling. There was only love.

You can read more about this story and other lessons in the blog: The Lesson Learned When Running Away.

Be Part of the Community.

Another thing that my dad instilled in me was the power of community. My dad was our Cub Master, our baseball and basketball coach, a Union Vice President, a softball player, and a member of several men’s clubs. He also had diverse friends and included some of our friends in our family.

I carry with me the importance of community. I am a leader or participant in several civic organizations. The lesson I learned from Big D about community was threefold.

First, he led or was present in our activities to be part of his children’s lives. Second, when you meet people face to face, it is hard to stay in an argument. You can cast aspersions on someone on Facebook without truly facing them. It is tough to hold a grudge or an argument when you have to see the person the following week. Last, when we act in the community, we build others up instead of tearing them down. We become stronger when we act as a team.

The First and Last Lesson – Be Thankful.

Big D was always thankful for his community and friends and was unafraid to show it. I will miss the heartfelt prayers of thanks my dad used to say before Thanksgiving dinner. They were simple but profound and gave thanks for all that was given to our family.

But I will never forget the first Thanksgiving without him and the miracle provided us in his remembrance. I recommend you read the full Thanksgiving Cows blog here, but here is a synopsis and the lesson.

Two weeks after Big D died, we went to my dad and mom’s ranch one last time for Thanksgiving. The ten cows he was raising were all expecting.

As we rounded the bend, my family saw two new baby calves. During the rest of Thanksgiving, a new calf was born about every hour, so there were nine near dinner time. However, one cow, Rosie, had a problem birthing her calf.

After much chasing and antics, we finally got Rosie in the truck and took her to the veterinarian. We did not have Thanksgiving dinner, but I would not have missed the event for the best food in the world.

I had never seen a calf being born; it was a tremendous sight. The vet wrapped a rope around the half-born calf and pulled it. The calf was born after a few moments that seemed like an eternity. After lying on the ground for a few moments, the calf made its first few steps and was alive.

At that moment, despite missing Thanksgiving Dinner, I was never more thankful. I was grateful for my dad’s gift of the cows, and I was thankful for the timing and happiness that the calves’ birth gave me and my family.

Whenever I feel let down or frustrated, I think back to the story of the Thanksgiving calves. And that is a Game Changer. Counting your blessings can change your attitude to one of positivity. It can lift you out of the despair of failure and toward the hope of tomorrow.

The End of the Weave, Hope for Tomorrow.

We close our weave by coming full circle to tomorrow’s election. Whether your candidate wins or not, let’s remember the lessons of Big D. Wake up tomorrow to get the iron out the door and food on your family’s plate. Look for ways to improve yourself and those around you. Be passionate about your beliefs, but have a heart for those who may differ. And most of all, Join in community and be thankful for this great country. We owe it to the legacy of Big D and Big Russ.

Poem – Be Good Not Great

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Be good not great,

For the time is late,

And we have but a day,

To show God’s way!

Seek kindness, not power,

Make Love a tower,

Your heart the leaven,

To seek out heaven.

Take time don’t wait,

For eternity is our fate,

If we do what he asks,

And complete His task.

Seek the Cross not fame,

As your temptations you tame,

For the time is late!,

So be good, not great.

The Message of Advent: God’s Love Endures

In Advent we wait expectantly for God’s Love Incarnate. Not the gooey eyed love that we experience on a porch swing and a first kiss, but rather the long, hard fought victorious love that endures past a last kiss. The love of a God who so loved the world that he gave his only Son. The Love of our Lord who in the dungeons of Caiaphas, the agony of the Garden, and nailed to the Cross loves us, dies for our sins to be resurrected and gain us a path to Heaven. The Love of Mary who agrees to bring God into this world and stands there at the foot of the cross. She takes that hard-won love with her to the house of John where she leads the apostles until she is assumed into Heaven and crowned its Queen. The love of a God that endures in the church and the sacrifice of the Saints. The Love despite our faults and sins is coming again in the form of his Second Coming to the Mount of Olives! In closing, this poem came to me as a remembrance for my sister in law. This morning I believe that Love in the form of the Holy Spirit asked me to send this poem at the start of a new liturgical year on the Priesthood and Passion of Jesus:

Love does not come easy,

it’s often built in trials,

minute by minute,

day by day.

It is built on sorrow, As much as hope,

Tears and hardship, As much as laughter.

It does not flit,

It does not float,

It is SOLID,

and it ENDURES!

Why love then?

It is our purpose and mission,

What we were built for,

What God designed!

Because love does not last,

for a minute or an hour.

It lasts a lifetime,

and through eternity.

So, drive on through the pain,

And strive through the sorrow,

And with one last kiss,

Reach for the tomorrow.

And, remember in waiting,

Not the words left spoken or tears,

But the smile and loving eyes,

That resound through the years.

Be A Good Neighbor: TM

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This is the fourth blog of the Be Good, Not Great series. The initial idea for the blog series came to me in a dream about my Grandpop and resulted in a poem and a blog in less then an hour. Read it hear. https://weightlossleadership.com/2019/03/16/be-good-not-great/

The series focuses on people that strive for goodness over greatness; who eschew money, wealth and fame to care for other people.

I still remember the first day at the first home my wife and I owned as if it were yesterday. We moved into an established community in our then sleepy, now rapidly growing town. The house was 70’s vintage and we were excited but a little daunted.

We got the home for a good price. But it did come with some things that we needed to fix. The most urgent being a large bump in the sidewalk that led to our door. The bump was due to a tree root that grew under one of the sidewalk panels. It was a hazard especially for my wife who was pregnant with our second child and our 4-year-old. I was ready to fulfill my duties as a husband, father and new home owner.

I had managed to lift the sidewalk a bit and was trying my best to cut off a portion with a small axe I had. I was not making any headway and was sweating buckets. When out walks a wiry, 60ish year old man with silver hair, from next door.

I stopped my work for a moment and greeted him. he introduced himself and said, “I am TM your neighbor and son you looked like you could use some help!” I said, “Hi Tim. I am doing ok, but it is sure good to meet you”. Which was wrong on two accounts.

First because of his Texas twang, I called him Tim instead of TM. This part was ok because he thought he heard TM due to my Jersey roots. Second, I was not Ok. I had worked for an hour and made hardly a dent on the root.

After 15 minutes, TM returned with his own axe and said “Don, please let me help you out. I have been doing this for awhile and we can knock it out together.” Even though I was embarrassed I relented. And I was glad I did. TM immediately made more headway in 10 minutes then I had done in the last hour and a half. When it was my turn to spell him, he let me use his axe and technique. We got the root out and sidewalk level in less than 40 minutes together. It was the start of a great friendship and mentorship.

TM was the perfect example of seeking goodness over greatness. Born and bred in Leander, he moved to Cedar Park during its infancy to run one of the Cedar Yards for which the city was named. He was a great mentor, devoted husband for 68 years, loving father and a devout church goer. You can read more about TM here. https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/austin-tx/thomas-pearson-7060600

There are four lessons from the life of TM to follow as we strive for goodness:

Be a Good Neighbor. The help with the tree root was just the first example of TM being neighborly. He was always there with a ready hand and a kind smile to help my wife and I with our expanding young family. With both of us working, we did not always have time to keep the yard up. When he saw us struggling, TM would take the time to mow the side of our yard closest to him or water some of plants when we did not get to it. He also helped us with some ideas on landscaping and brought over some vegetables from his garden. We in return tried to help him out, but never could match his generosity.
Be a Good Family Man. TM was a devoted husband and father. His only daughter was confined to a wheel chair after she was in an accident. He and his wife helped care for her. To make things easier, his daughter and her husband lived with TM. TM had a specially outfitted van and helped with the medical visits and care. He was always cheerful and willing to help. I also never saw a harsh word exchanged between the two couples despite the stress of living under the same roof.
Be a Good Mentor. TM was also always ready to pass the lessons of fatherhood to me. One conversation stands out. I was playing soccer with my son in our backyard and we were getting loud. My son kicked the ball and it sailed into TM’s garden. Instead of a harsh word, he handed over the soccer ball with a smile. I told him I was sorry and asked him if we were bothering him by being too rowdy. TM said, “You do get a bit loud, Don. but I know what you ae doing and you need to play with your son. It is what they remember and how they learn so have at it!” I try to remember that lesson when the two boys that are our new neighbors kick a soccer ball against our car.
Take care of your community. TM also reached out to the larger community. His yard was an example to the whole community. He also put on the best Christmas light show for many years. Showing pride in your home and community inspires the same in your neighbors. TM also sang and played guitar at his church. He used his talents to the joy and betterment of those around him and the world is better for it.

We moved to a new home about a mile away in 2007. Up to the end of our time next door, TM remained a good neighbor and friend. Even helping us with fixing up the house for sale. Unfortunately, I did not follow his good example. I got caught up with work and growing family and despite living only a mile or two away from him, we did not go to see him that often. When he passed in 2016, I did not know until quite a bit later. This is something I will always regret.

Robert Frost writes in his famous poem “Mending Wall” see full at this link https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44266/mending-wall:

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast…
He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,
But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
He said it for himself.”

I now know what does not love a wall. It is not elves, it is God and his love. Be like TM and not me! Break down the walls of cell phones, work, and a busy life. Take a sledgehammer to that wall, much like TM took an axe to that tree root and make time for your neighbor. And above all, love your neighbor as yourself!