The Only Thing You Can Count On
by Dr. Joe Vitale
www.mrfire.com
We just got in from a trip to Houston, where we attended the
Memorial Service for my ex-wife and best friend of 27 years,
Marian.
It stormed the entire three hour drive there. The city was
flooding, the sky dark, the clouds dumping their rain,
the streets crowded and dangerous. Yet a few dozen
people weathered the storm and attended the service.
Some people I hadn't seen in 15 years. Some I've known for
30 years. Some I never met before, and only knew through
stories Marian told me. It was a warm, loving, intimate
group, all with one thing in common: their love for Marian.
David, Marian's best friend over the last few years, stood
and read parts from Marian's unpublished and unfinished
autobiography. He wanted to show that this loving woman
had gone through hell as a child, yet somehow learned to
love unconditionally.
Stories about Marian's mean grandmother, and cold father,
reminded me of why Marian wanted to commit suicide as a
young woman in Oregon. Fortunately, she didn't, and she
enjoyed over thirty more years of life's sunshine.
I didn't plan to speak at the service. After four days of
emotional misery, bawling my eyes out in private, missing
my beloved of almost three decades, I didn't think I could
stand, let alone speak.
But I surprised myself. I got up, went to the podium, and
fumbled to say the following:
"David left out one thing," I began. "He forgot to tell you
the title of Marian's life story. She called it 'It's All
Good.'"
I went on to say that even through the pain she had
suffered -- her unhappy childhood, her near fatal
car-accident two years previously, the molestation by her
therapist, her struggles with self-esteem and more -- she
always looked for the good.
I then told everyone what happened to me on the way to
the service, an event that Marian would have loved.
"I was riding here when I got a phone call from James Caan,
the famous actor," I said.
I explained that I have a client who knows Caan. So the call
wasn't entirely unexpected.
My mobile phone rang and I heard the famous voice said,
"Joe, this is Jimmy Caan."
"Oh my g---"
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Well, ah, I'm going to a funeral."
"A funeral?!"
"I lost my ex and best friend," I said.
"My condolences but I'm glad it was your ex," he said,
stressing the word 'ex', not knowing, of course, how Marian
and I remained close even after we legally separated.
There was an awkward silence.
I was on the phone with a celebrity, a man now 64 years old,
still vibrant with life, starring in a weekly TV show called
"Casino." I wanted more. I thought maybe he could offer
something wise to help ease my pain. So far I had found no
magic bullets, magic pills, magic words, books, or anything
else to ease the grief.
"Do you have any advice for me?" I asked.
"Advice!?" he asked, surprised. "You don't want any advice
from me. I've got a lot of ex wives, and some of them I wish
would trade places with your ex."
I laughed out loud.
I told everyone at the service about this event and they
laughed, too.
And suddenly I realized that a miracle had taken place.
"Marian said it's all good," I told the people at the
service. "She loved movies and loved The Godfather. The
fact that I spoke with James Caan today, on the day of her
service, would have made her smile that contagious huge
beaming smile of hers. Marian knew the secret of the
universe before me and most anyone else."
I broke into tears and said, "It's been four days of pure
hell, with my missing her in the most painful ways, but on
some level, in some way that I don't yet understand, this is
all good."
That was all last night. The service is over. Marian is
gone.
What I dislike about death is that it is so final. There are
no PSs. No follow-ups. No chance to say hello, goodbye,
I'm sorry, or I love you, or anything else. None. Zip. Zero.
Game over. Plug pulled. The end.
Oh, you can play mind games and have conversations in your
head with the deceased, but the person -- the flesh and
blood person who you knew and loved and could touch and
hold -- is *gone.*
My advice to you, and to me, is to live now. Be sure your
affairs are in order -- have a legal will, make peace with
family and friends every day -- and look for the good in
every moment. It may not be easy, at first. But you can
do it.
For example, a friend called me the other day, to see how I
was handling the loss. We spoke for a while. He shared his
own feelings of sadness. He told me, "It's real easy to fall
into negative thinking."
I agreed. But I thought about it and realized I *wasn't*
falling into negative thinking. I'm grieving. I'm sad. I'm
at times barely able to function. But I'm not thinking
negative. Along the way in my life with Marian, I learned
that "It's all good." Even the grieving. Even death.
When we drove back home from Houston today, traffic
suddenly stopped. We didn't know what happened. Then
we saw a helicopter, and knew someone was badly hurt
and being carried to a hospital. As traffic moved again,
we were able to see that a terrible wreck had taken place.
Moments before it, the drivers were talking, laughing, maybe
planning their evening. Now they're hurt, and possibly dead.
You never know what moment is our last one.
I suggest you live now.
I suggest when opportunities come your way, grab them.
I suggest you do more smiling, hugging, sharing, crying,
laughing, risking, and forgiving.
I suggest you monitor your thoughts, notice the negative
ones, and consciously replace them with positive ones.
Yes, I know it can be difficult, at first. I've learned from
the Mental Toughness Institute's program that I'm in that
your thoughts can be elevated. You can rise above negative
thinking. You simply have to retrain your brain. You have
the power to do it. You just might need some support to
make it your new habit.
Well, Marian pointed the way.
She said, "It's all good."
This is the one and only moment of your life.
It's the only moment you can count on.
THIS is IT.
And it's good.
Copyright © 2005 by Joe Vitale. All rights reserved.
You may forward this in its entirety to anyone you wish.
Hypnotic Marketing Inc.
P.O. Box 2924
Wimberley TX 78676
Member BBB Online 2005 |
