The World Turns as Usual without Me

The World Turns as Usual without Me

I learned first to pull my own weight in the boat. Kids making a Brett jersey have no use for the loafer who wants a free ride. Neither has the world. I learned to make the bed I slept in, and wash the Bo Jackson jersey I used, and mend what I broke, and mop up where I spilled. And if I was too lazy or too dainty or too busy, and left it for someone else, somebody else soon taught me different.

What do I believe? What laws do I live by? There are so many answers - work, beauty, truth, love - and I hope I do live by them. But in everyday things I live by the light of a supplementary set of laws. I'd better call them rules of Jackson jersey. Rules of Zack Greinke jersey aren't very grand, but they do make the wheels go round.

Then, the same way, I learned that anger is a Greinke jersey. It hurts nobody but me. A fit of the sullen got short shrift in our house. It wasn't pulling my weight in the boat. It was spoiling sport. And among seven children it got me nowhere. It might reduce four o'cat to three o'cat, but the game went on just the same, and where was I? Better go in and join the group around the piano and forget my Kendry Morale jersey. Better still, next time don't fling down my bat in a Morale jersey; keep my temper, and stay in the game.

Here's a rule thumb that's important, and the older I get, the more important I think it is. When I can do something, and somebody wants me to do it, I have to do it. The great tragedy of life is not to be needed. As long as you are able and willing to do things for people, you will be needed. Of course you are able; and if so, you can't say no. My mother is seventy-seven. In seventy-seven years she has never said no. Today she is so much in demand by thirteen grandchildren and countless neighbors that her presence is eagerly contended for. When I want to see her I have to pretend emergency.

So I learned to live, by the great laws, and these little rules of thumb. I wouldn't take a million dollars for any one of them, or a million times that for the years at home that taught them to me. Finally, there is the rule of happiness. Happiness is a habit. I was taught to cultivate it. A big stomach-ache, or a big heart-ache, can interrupt happiness, but neither can destroy it unless I permit.