You Did What?

Many years ago, there was a young lady who worked for me named Kelly Kitchens.  The one day, Kelly came into my office, and she started complaining about her husband.  I can’t remember what transgression he had committed, it doesn’t matter, but I stopped her at one point, and asked, “Tell me, has your husband ever tried to implement a purchase order policy?”  She looked at me in shock, and said, “Oh my God, no.”  I quickly said to her, “Well I did.  Your husband really doesn’t seem so bad after all, does he?”

I then related to Kelly the sad tale of the purchase order policy and the fallout that occurred.  Now, in my defense, we were in the process of moving, I had taken a new opportunity at my employer at the time, Barco, and we were moving from Dayton, Ohio to Kennesaw, Georgia.  We were sitting on a house that just wasn’t selling, and the finances were getting tight.  I was becoming desperate, I was losing my mind, trying to figure out how to make this all work.  I think I could possibly get off using the temporary insanity defense.  Or maybe not.

It all started the one Saturday evening.  I had been traveling back and forth between Dayton and Kennesaw, I was home for short periods at a time.  As I struggled, trying to figure out how we would manage this move, how we would sell this house, how we would get back together as a family, I started panicking about the finances while I wasn’t around.  I worried that money was just flowing out freely without me there to ensure we were fiscally conservative.  And thus the purchase order policy was hatched.  It was a perfect plan.  All purchases, large or small, had to be agreed to by both parties to ensure no unwise spending took place.  I even formalized it in a document, typed it up on the computer, with signature blocks for each of us. 

I know what you’re thinking right now.  This really couldn’t get much worse.  But it could!  You see, I decided to introduce this policy on Sunday before we went to church.  But not just any Sunday.  Mother’s Day!

After we got ready that morning, Laurel and I were in the kitchen, waiting for the kids to all get ready for church.  I pulled out the document, it was short, very efficiently-worded, and I showed it to Laurel.  I quickly could see, this may not have been my best idea that I’ve ever come up with.  I remember my brother Jim once taught me, “words are like bullets, once they’re out, you can’t get them back.”  I quickly wanted to reel them back in, but too late, the damage was done.  Laurel said nothing, she reached for her purse, she pulled out the check book, her credit cards, her cash, and said, “Here, you take care of everything.”.  She then said nothing else.

It just so happened that Laurel and I were teaching Sunday School that morning for a group of children, so she left before me, and I was taking all of the kids to church.  As I pulled into the parking lot at church, I couldn’t see her car, and the thought hit me.  She left me!  I went into church, and headed for the Sunday School room.  No Laurel.  I started quickly walking up and down the halls of Westminster, you have to understand, it’s a really big church with lots of hallways, still no Laurel.  I would see people, and ask, “have you seen Laurel?”  I remember the look of bewilderment on Patsy Stevens’ face when I asked her, I must have looked that crazy, but still, no Laurel. I started running up and down the hallways, full of fear and panic, stopping anyone I could see, “have you seen Laurel?”, no, no one had seen her.  Eventually, Laurel showed up at the Sunday School room, I tried to say something, but she was still sobbing and refused to talk to me.

While it would appear this story couldn’t be much worse, really, it was.  I had planned this beautiful Mother’s Day celebration that day.  When we got home, Laurel really wanted no part of it, but I convinced her that the kids had really gone to a great deal of effort, we couldn’t disappoint them.  I had written a poem for them all to recite, I don’t remember much of it, other than the first line, “Mother with your hair so brown, upon it you should wear a crown…”  The kids gathered around the fire place,  each one reciting their part of the poem, holding up the various presents, I remember a couple dresses and various other gifts for her.  It could have been so special!  I videotaped the whole event, the kids doing their best, and Laurel sitting their sobbing.  I even tried afterward to video tape an apology, it pretty much consisted of me saying over and over and over again, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”  Yeah, that didn’t work either.

One of the next few weekends, we had a Small Group meeting among the guys from my church, and we’d always start off with checking in, what is going on in your life.  I started off, telling my sad tale of the purchase order policy gone awry.  I still remember the look of horror on Sandy McConnel’s face when he said to me, “You did what?”  I know, I know, it was a really, really bad idea.

Over time, the pain did subside a bit, but it wasn’t a topic that was brought up.  We just tried to act as if it never happened.  Once in a while, someone at a social event might try to bring it up for humor, but Laurel still never saw the humor in the event, so the topic would quickly die.

Years later, we had moved back to Dayton, only to be moving back again to Georgia, this time to Duluth, Georgia, still with Barco.  John and Beth Ey put together a going away party for us, and many of our friends from Westminster were there, including several members of my Small Group and their spouses.  At one point, of course, the topic of the purchase order policy came up, I’m pretty sure it was John Ey that remembered it.  Some of the wives had never heard it, so John asked me to share the story.  By this point, Laurel had lost her anger about it, but it still wasn’t something she found funny.  So I shared the story once again, the whole sordid tale.  The funny thing was, Jill McConnel, Sandy’s ex-wife, was sitting near me, and it was déjà vu all over again.  She looked at me in horror, and said, “You did what?”  I know, I know, it was a really, really bad idea.

While it isn’t always easy to find a silver lining in unfortunate life experiences, I’ve done my best to find a “pony in the box” on this one.  Kelly Kitchens was the first, but I’ve used this story many times over the years with colleagues who may come to me complaining about their husband.  I quickly break into, “Has your husband ever tried to implement a purchase order policy?”  I then tell my sorry tale, and in virtually all cases, the young lady comes to realize, my husband isn’t so bad after all.  At least some good has come out of this really, really bad idea. 

If you want to share this story with someone who may need to hear that their husband isn’t so bad, or if you happen to be a husband, who needs to show your wife that you aren’t so bad, by all means, share my ill-conceived purchase order policy story.  Let it do some good.  Just please don’t mention this story to Laurel.  Even after 20 years or so, it’s still not a story that she looks back at and laughs about.

On a Scale of 1 to 10 ....

Each time our Small Group gets together for our annual retreat, we check in with each other, to see how each member is doing.  We ask each member, “on a scale of 1 to 10, where are you?”.  We often break it down to health, personal, emotional, work, etc. 

Our Small Group has been together since the mid-90’s, so it’s been a little over 20 years.  We are 10, we lost Scott Porter a few years ago, which was difficult for all of us.  We’ve taken on a couple new members over time, Dave Weaver has been the latest a few years ago.  It’s funny, it’s really as if he’s always been there, he just fits in so well.  Some of us have moved away, so we don’t get to see each other as much, that’s what makes the annual retreat so special.

This year, someone, I’m assuming it was John Ey, had the bright idea to have our retreat in Pittsburgh.  Other than the fact that Pittsburgh is an incredible city, it’s also where I grew up, so this was an extra-special venue for me.  Eight of the 10 were able to make it, and while it would have really been nice to have Jim Clay and John Gummel there, it was still a thrill to have eight of us there.  We stayed in Shadyside, we visited Shadyside Presbyterian Church, where one of our group, Sandy McConnel, was a minister many, many years ago.  We visited Mount Washington, the Carnegie Museum of Natural History, and we visited so many great places to eat.  I think as we get older, meals become a really important part of our lives.

Being the youngest in the group (probably the only place anymore that I am the youngest), I’m noticing signs of aging amongst us.  We’re starting to compare the various medications we take, the surgeries we’ve had, the ailments we are feeling.  Losing Scott a few years ago was sobering, but the fact that we are all seeing the effects of getting older is even more sobering.  It’s really tough when the reality starts hitting you that the number of years left are far less than the number of years you have experienced, and your body and mind aren’t what they were just a few short years ago.

Getting back to the “On a scale of 1 to 10, where are you?” question, one of the rules of Small Group is that everything stays inside the group, but I don’t think I’m breaking any confidences if I reveal my score and what I told my friends.  I rate myself an 8 or a 9, which is probably the highest I’ve ever been.  Why not a 10?  Well let’s hit the negatives first on why I’m not a 10, before we get to the positives of why I’m an 8 or 9.

The negatives:

• I still suffer from depression, which is a lifelong journey that I will always suffer from.  Just like various medical or physical ailments, depression is a disease that essentially is terminal.  The good news is that I often know when I’m heading downward, and I’ve been able to cope and deal with it. 
• My job has been painful to say the least for four years now.  We have been suffering from the economy, mainly in the oil and gas industry, and it’s devastating to be a leader in a business where the people are so good, so hard working, and deserve so much more than we are giving them.  I love the people I work with, and they deserve so much better than this.  I really feel like I/we have let them down.
• I worry constantly about our children, but I really believe that’s kind of a given in life.  I don’t believe I’ll stop doing this until the day I die, and I don’t think I’m that unusual.

The positives:

• I fall in love more and more every day with Laurel.  I really can’t imagine being more in love than I am, but each day seems to bring a new level.
• We have four really incredible children, who have turned into wonderful and caring human beings.  I really couldn’t be more proud of the people they have become.
• I get to come home and see Daisy running across the yard to the top of the fence, and Little Bit peaking under the gate, and when they see me, they run like crazy into the house to greet me at the door.  I feel for those few moments like the most loved person in the world.
• We have found an amazing church in Shallowford Presbyterian Church, with great preaching, great fellowship, beautiful music, a wonderful youth program, and a welcoming community that makes us feel like we are family.
•  A year ago, Laurel introduced me to yoga at Ebb & Flow.  The physical, the spiritual, the mental, those have all been an incredible transformation for me.  But it’s also the people.  Most of it, comes vicariously for me, I’m an introvert, Laurel’s the social one.  I’ve gotten to know so many wonderful people there, mostly from listening to Laurel’s conversations, but it’s just such a nice group of people.  Plus, the teachers are so inspiring. 

What I didn’t say, and I should have said, was to give credit where credit is due.  There is no doubt, I wouldn’t be who I am at this point in my life, and comfortable with who I am, if it weren’t for this group of men.  They have been there through all of the good and not so good that I’ve experienced through the last 20+ years, and I’ve learned so much from them.  In no specific order,

·       I’ve learned the beauty of grace.

·       I’ve pushed myself to think, to learn, to write, to “sharpen the saw”.

·       I’ve copied the tattoos on my heart to tattoos on my arms.

·       I’ve seen that God does give people second chances in life, and how wonderful that can be.

·       I’ve witnessed the love of a caregiver for a parent and spouse through very difficult times.

·       I’ve seen someone who is enormously busy at work still somehow find time for so many, whether it be one of us, or one of the least of us.

·       I’ve received those phones calls to keep you motivated and looking forward when all you want to do is wallow in self-pity.

·       I’ve watched as some grow older so gracefully.

·       I’ve seen a beautiful, heartfelt goodbye that was the perfect message to a  loving congregation.

·       I’ve learned that oftentimes it’s the quiet and gentle voice that speaks the loudest.

·       I’ve seen someone give so freely and generously of his time and talents while he struggles with his spirituality.  What a gift he gives!

·       I’ve been pushed to think differently, to act differently, to view those around me differently.

·       I’ve learned that we don’t always have to agree with each other, but we can listen and hear what each other has to say, and acknowledge that there is a different way to view things.

·       I’ve seen a father’s love of his children taken to a new level that I can only hope to somehow come close to.

·       I’ve seen that it may take many years, but love does win.

·       I’ve seen Micah 6:8 lived out, “to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God”.

The weekend ended, too soon as usual, with a meal, of course. We headed off our separate ways, knowing that these retreats will get harder and harder as we continue to age.  Many years ago, someone phrased something to me that at first, I found very odd.  She said, “He was such a good friend, I didn’t hesitate to ask a huge favor of him.”  At first, I thought of it as backwards.  But over the years, I’ve found it’s not.  There have been times, I desperately needed help, mainly with our kids, and I didn’t hesitate to call one of these guys, any day, and at any hour.  I know, they would do anything for me.  And I’d do anything for them.