It was the second week of July, 1993. We had just had our engagement party (I'm sure those of you who were there haven't forgotten that party--you're probably still sweating! Record breaking heat and Mama insisted the party remain outside). One of our to this day closest friends, Mike, had stayed to help paint and to travel with Chris to New Hampshire for another friend's wedding (an equally hot celebration). They were going to leave mid week; I was going to stay to take my comps and orals for graduate school and then join them at the wedding. This particular afternoon, Mike and Chris went out to run and I was going to spend some more time reviewing for the exams. They left; I sat down at the table, opened my notebook and my mind went blank--completely and totally blank. I couldn't define a single term, recognize a single theory or compare and contrast something as basic as Skinner and Piaget. I began flipping papers the panic rising--I couldn't breathe. Tears welled in my eyes and the voice of despair and defeat began taunting me, "You'll never pass. Everyone will know you aren't smart enough. You'll be a failure. Your life plans are ruined." I began to pace trying to escape my shaking hands, my pounding heart, and the voice. No matter what room I went into (and there weren't many--) they followed me. "Escape, escape, escape. Run away now." was all I could think. So I fled from the house and got into my car. As I started the engine, Chris and Mike crested the hill. I suspect as they looked through the windshield they saw the wild, caged dog look in my eyes because only Chris came to the window. Mike wisely made himself look busy spraying off with the hose pretending their wasn't an "episode" unfolding before his very eyes. "Where are you going?" Chris calmly asked. "I have to get out of here," I barely managed to say. "I can't remember anything. I can't do it; I'm going to fail. It's all over; all those classes for nothing. Now what am I going to be? What job will I ever get?"
You should probably know that at this point Chris had only known me for 11 months and so his immediate reasonable response was well, reasonable. "Katherine, come back inside. I'm sure it's not that bad. Worst case you don't pass them the first time and have to take them over. It happens to people all the time." My head may have spun around a few times as I spewed, "I CANNOT FAIL EVER!!" I whipped away from the curb--Chris quickly jumped out of the way (we were over 20 years younger then and quick on our feet). I headed home to my parents house to be alone.
I came into the kitchen and headed straight for the phone (you know those things attached to the wall so that you have to remain in one place while you have conversations, no pacing allowed) I knew I had to call my equally neurotic, over achieving, perfectionist best friend who would NEVER say anything so reasonable and stupid. I needed Anne to talk me off the ledge, to formulate a plan as to how I was going to get through this, take the tests and pass. I needed a color coded plan from someone who understood me. Anne answered the phone and I burst into tears. Once I was able to speak without hyperventilating I assured her that no the engagement wasn't off, it was much worse. My well planned out life wasn't going as I had planned. I was behind in my study schedule; I couldn't remember anything, and that man who I adore had the audacity to say it would be okay if I didn't pass the first time. Anne listened, took a deep breath, (probably said a prayer of thanksgiving that she was in DC and I was in Georgia so I couldn't rip her head off) and said, "Katherine, call your advisor first thing in the morning. Tell him you aren't going to take the exams this month. Relax. You can take them in December." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. THAT WASN'T THE PLAN!!! I must have screamed it both inside my head as well as into the phone. Anne calmly said, "It also wasn't in the plan for you to fall in love with Chris. You are getting married in six months. You need to enjoy this time; go hiking--learn the words to every John Prine song ever written and recorded. It will be fine. You can do this. You can't plan and control everything. Plans change." I don't remember the rest of the call, but I did get back into my car, popped the John Prine tape into my cassette deck, and headed back to the house.
It's been over 20 years--the world didn't stop spinning--I did take (and pass) both my comps and orals in December--two days before an over the top southern wedding--also not great timing, but irrelevant to this blog. I spent those six months between July and December learning the words to every John Prine song and we've been singing them for all these years. And teaching them (even the inappropriate ones) to our children. (Chris spent those six months learning not to try to be rational with me when I was completely and totally irrational--an acquired skill that has served him well over the years.) I, however, am not certain I learned everything from that experience. I still try to plan and control and yesterday it caught up with me again.
Late yesterday afternoon I sat with Becky and talked (read sobbed) about how out of control I felt. I told her that I was panicked and anxiety ridden about the children. Caroline has a concussion, Christopher isn't making great choices, SK is leaving for college soon and instead of admitting to each other how we really feel we're snipping at each other and I'm over the top about everything, William is doing okay, but give it time and I'm sure something will go wrong, and Chris is traveling all the time. Becky smiled at me and said, "What are you so afraid of?" Those words hung in the air where they stayed for the next several hours.
Last night we had tickets to John Prine. We went to dinner with Caroline and then headed downtown. As we were driving downtown I was purging all my worries onto Chris (who wisely remained silent--told you he learned). I was telling him how worried I was that life wasn't going to turn out for the children like we had planned. I was worried they would make choices that would make life harder for them; I was worried they wouldn't take advantage of the advantages we were trying to give them. I was worried they'd live with regrets. When I paused Chris calmly and quietly said, "All we can do is our best and hope and pray for the best for them. Some things are out of our control." Those words intertwined with Becky's and they all hung in the air together--taunting me.
The concert started and I began to feel myself relax. Chris and I held hands and sang along to every song; I felt like we were in our 20's again--listening to John Prine with our whole life ahead of us. One song ran into another until Spanish Pipedream--as I listened to the words, I froze, and tears streamed down my face The words from the song and the words hanging in the air joined together and a reality hit me. The chorus says,
Blow up your T.V. throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try an find Jesus on your own"
Chris and I did that. We built our home (in many places), had a lot of children, ate lots of peaches whenever we could get Georgia and South Carolina ones, and most importantly we found God--we found God in our relationship and in our lives. We found God in our achievements and in our mistakes. God was always and is always a part of our life--the part we planned and the parts that are surprises--and there were more of them than planned parts. And God is good, the unplanned parts bring both challenges and blessings (yep, one of those is Caroline our beautiful surprise), but God is there. And then I heard the final chorus,
We blew up our T.V. threw away our paper
Went to the country, built us a home
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own
Went to the country, built us a home
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own
I know they have to do it on their own--but if they want some suggestions....
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