Amazing Grace

Starting back years ago, after seeing my dad die before my eyes in our living room and during the twenty or so years that followed with just Mom and me, the movies have been part of my emotional rehab plan.

I’d screen movies for Mom on Friday, rush home and write a column, and then spend Sunday, for a second viewing of maybe Coal Miner’s Daughter plus dinner, with Mom. I loved Sundays.

The movies stirred a creative spark, moved me to writing instead of seeking treatment, and accessed an escape for me and the woman who’d taken on the challenge of giving me life…and supporting it every minute.

When Mom inevitably lost her lengthy battle with diabetes, I adopted a family who had no choice in the matter. And, so what if they were on the payroll!

The last four months have been challenging for our Temple City Dental Care family. Back in November, I signed us up for an expensive, transformative year long program that plays big. Our purpose remains “making a world-class difference for others and making dentistry fun” but our vision is, offering a total health approach and helping 20,000 friends and family become healthy and their own best health advocates by the end of 2021. The training is rigorous; implementation takes commitment. I even had a theme song, “This is it.” And listening to Kenny Loggins could actually bring a tear (And I never thought I’d ever write or say that.)

One month into our new program, we lost two team members with close to 40-years of experience in our practice; they were on track to return healthy and fulfilled. And being pain free at last and becoming a mom were dreams coming true. And I’d hoped we’d remain solvent (in our newly expanded digs) all the way to the 2019 Rose Parade.

My team came together like the Lakers, the 1971-72 Lakers. Our December was the equal of a 33-game winning streak. And last week, just when our depleted numbers were accounting for some stress, one half of our missing dynamic duo returned…in the form of World-class dental assistant, leader, and human being, Dani.

Last Wednesday, we had a meeting. Attending were two women I would adopt if I could, our H/R advisor, and me. Dani and Kolleen have been part of our family for seventeen and sixteen years respectively; they work together more beautifully than any other two people I’ve ever seen (Waldorf and Statler are a distant second.) I never worry about their honesty, caring nature, or willingness to do more; and they have each other’s back. I see Dani and Kolleen as daughters I’ve never had and appreciate them as if we were raised in the same household. I love them both.

On Wednesday, Dani and Kolleen were frustrated with one another, crying, and not being the friends, I know they are. There were hurt feelings and misunderstandings. I’m sure it’s no problem figuring out the common denominator. Hint: it wasn’t the H/R guy. Wednesday made me physically ill. Attempted sleep was no comfort; I couldn’t snap out of it.

On a good day, I’m agnostic. But, walking a couple of miles to and from the movies on a Friday and beholding the greatness of Aretha Franklin singing two-hours of Gospel can light the human spirit (of even the likes of me) the way sunshine can open flowers. And Monday and all its possibilities were only a relative few hours away.

Seemed like familiar territory. And, for me (and I’m sure professional counseling would help), movies and writing aren’t the answer; but they do let some light in. If “Stand by Me” helped work for my brother and “Field of Dreams” for my dad, it should come as no surprise that seeing “Coal Miner’s Daughter” and writing “Mother’s Day” helped me deal with loss and keep loving memories alive.

And if the Queen of Soul, singing Amazing Grace like no one ever has or ever will, can’t somehow touch, move, or inspire anyone to take a moment, apologize, appreciate, have a conversation, offer support, and make the family stronger; then maybe The Tin Man is alive and still not well.