Words

I like to read. I’ve always liked to read. I began at the age of three. (If you believe my grandmother, I could read the newspaper.)

My preferred genre is mysteries, a habit I picked up from my mother. I just finished a fairly good one (not great because it became needlessly convoluted and contrived near the end). What I’ll take from the book, though, is a single quote.

"People might not get all they work for in this world, but they must certainly work for all they get." (Frederick Douglass)

That eases my mind somewhat. I’ve occasionally wondered if I "deserve" all of the good things I have: a nice car, a loving upbringing, financial stability, a job I love, and a kick-ass condo, to name a few. I can pin most of my doubt on comments made by my second boss during my unfortunate Alabama job experience. He used a story of his manual labor on a farm as a teenager to imply that my 12-hour days weren’t productive enough for him. It was if he knew that I didn’t have my first job until college and insinuated that I goofed off for my high school years.

You know what? I didn’t. Sure, I didn’t have a "real" job, but I contributed. I babysat for a neighbor. I helped first my older brothers then boys from the neighborhood with their paper routes. I did chores. I did things well and thoroughly. I didn’t have an allowance. I saved my birthday and Christmas money to buy things I wanted (mostly comic books).

I like that word: wanted. It ties in with the Douglass quote. I came up with a similar saying a few years ago, and it has impressed some people whom I have told. (Go ahead and quote me if you wish.) "My parents gave me only some of what I wanted but everything I needed."

I never "hated" my parents for not giving me something. I didn’t throw a tantrum for not getting everything on my list at Christmas, but I was lucky enough to visit seven countries (including Canada) before I turned eighteen. I was a good son. I thanked my parents. I behaved. I did what I was told. I enjoyed what I had. I loved (and still do) my parents. If you agree with Douglass, I earned what I have.

My parents were Depression babies. Then came World War II. They know the meaning of doing without, especially so that others will benefit. My maternal grandfather was a civil engineer with the Milwaukee Road (railroad). My paternal grandfather worked for General Motors. (Imagine hanging on to that job through a decade of people too poor to buy cars then five years of much of the steel being used for planes and tanks and ships and bombs.) My father had at least two jobs as a teenager, to help support his family. He worked as a mechanic at a Buick dealership and as an orderly at the town hospital. He started college, joined the army, married my mom, returned to college, and got a good-paying job with a good company and raised a family. My parents had hard lives and worked to improve them. I benefitted from that, but I’m not spoiled. I learned a valuable lesson from them.

I’ve been going through a rough patch at work the past week. I feel unappreciated, even used. I’m doing my job, doing it well, and getting dumped on by others, who aren’t even doing what they’re supposed to. It’s tearing me down mentally, and maybe trying to physically. If I weren’t going to the gym regularly, eating well, and getting enough sleep, I’d be sure to fall ill -- and I wonder why some people don’t get what they "deserve", or why I’m doing everything right and am no better off than those who are goofing off.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," is a commonly cited cliche. It is also wrong. The proper wording is "never harm me". Words can hurt, and we all know it.

Words also can inspire. I need to remember Douglass. I need to remember that I have worked for all that I have. I can hope that others don’t get what they want because they’re not working hard enough, but that takes energy and time away from my own work. I got what I have by working for it. I’ll keep what I have by working to keep it. I might not get all that I work for -- or all that I want -- but I won’t get any of it if I stop working.

There’s a lesson in those words.