The Hard Way

            This year we changed things around, instead of going to Minnesota during the summer we went at Christmas; it was cold, there was snow, there was a lot of SNOW, and there was snow shoveling. This occupation was carried out by the men, and boys.  This is where I come in, with my bright ideas of saving time and doing half the work. I stood in the long curving drive bundled against the weather with boots lost in the fresh foot of snow that had fallen. I believe god in his infinite humor made sure the snow storm culmination measurement in Minnesota was always done in feet.  So here I am; a southern boy mind you, giving advice to his father and Grandfather on the subject of snow shoveling. I suggested with confident words, for I was known to often come up with time saving ideas. My advice was this. I lifted my arm in a gesture that was used for direction giving and said, “Why don’t we just dig two paths for the tires?”

My grandfather, who had already started shoveling, stated without looking up from his labor. “The lazy man’s way is the hard way. If we were to do as you suggested; the snow would build up under the car, melting and refreezing until a block of ice is left which eventually has to be removed before it can damage a cars undercarriage. He looked up and locked eyes with me; for, this lesson he felt was of great importance and, he repeated,   “The lazy man’s way is the hard way.”     

            I have forty-five 1^st cousins and sixteen aunts and uncles, on my father’s side of the family. We, as in my immediate family were the only ones to live outside the state of Minnesota. Every summer I would fly from Washington DC to the land of 10,000 lakes, having arranged my month vacation between Grandma  & Grandpas’, Uncle Georges Farm, or at any one of my other relatives homes. My Grandfather Irving Ernst was the true Patriarch of our family, instilling upon us his values, wisdom, and experience.  I would often spend a few days with Grandma and Grandpa at their small house before assailing my extended kin. Every night under the Coo-Coo clock my Grandparents said the rosary, the whole rosary which consisted of 40+ prayers. I always marveled at their steadfastness and devotion. Now looking back, I see how every part of these peoples lives was scheduled and set before them; furthermore, the effort for over 50+ years had net them the truest fruits of labor; a large, successful, happy, family.

            The “Hard way” let’s examine this idea as I it refers to my life.  I was the classic under-achiever in grade school to the point where it came easy and I did no work. I could pass with “C”s and “D”s  .

“Just get by” my father always said, “You just get by” back then it was said with a disappointing I tell you so tone which would lead me to feel lost, vulnerable, the victim; for, in truth that is the reality I had created as a child. Adolescence was a whole new adventure in this state for I found drugs, depression, and anger leading to residential institutional living for three years in my late teens. High school was done all a bad memory or at least shall we say not my potential. My twenty’s were “Rockin” till twenty-one, I had worked real hard. I found a new way of falling down and that was though women, motorcycles, and weed. Cops and Kids that’s what I wound up with, not at the same time, yet the out come the same. My father placed me into Baltimore International College, and I again fell short of my goals not completing my degrees, yet I had become a competent “Cook”; a cook, who had too move to Oregon in a “barrowed” U-haul truck because he had burnt all his bridges. My kids are here we had a few good years. Prison sucked. Losing a second family sucked more. Jail in and out with a topping of homelessness made up my life until eight years ago. Something in me called, and I stood up. Well.. that’s the first step. The second has been rebuilding.

It has taken most of my life to instill this lesson into my daily life. I say this not to say that I am the picture of productivity, yet all the true accomplishments’ I have attained; I attribute to hard work. It’s funny when I’m working hard time itself becomes my friend in this struggle we call life. Laziness is the soul crusher and back breaker that will if given a chance; bring my life to a standstill taking my dreams with it. I often impart this story of that day and my Grandfathers words to others. My Grandfather passed away in 1989, yet his words, his love still surround my life.

            We finished the drive with all three of us after a half hour of work. Then we moved like clockwork into the next activity after having hot coco at Aunt Kathy’s. I happened to speak to my Aunt Kathy who was visiting my father for the inauguration of our new President Barrack Obama. We laughed and reminisced, yet the pain we all experience was evident just under the surface. We all miss him still.  I look back with longing, for this was the only time that my father, Grandpa, and I ever worked side by side.   If only that driveway was a little longer. If only I could of spend another day shoveling snow with Grandpa and Dad. I digress. Thank you Grandpa for the wonderful lessons that I still carry close to my heart I will remember them always.

Thor.