It was a cold Saturday in late February. Snow and ice covered the ground. It was typical of the Missouri winters I had grown up with and learned to dislike. Having moved to Texas a couple of years before, I was getting spoiled with milder winters, so I didn’t mind the snow and cold on this particular visit. It was a nice change of pace.

My return trips to Missouri were almost always centered around getting to visit with dad as much as possible. He had been in a care center in for years due to a stroke that had debilitated him in 2005. He wasn’t mobile anymore, but he still had his mind and the ability to talk, so many times visits with him resulted in a lot of conversation. I always cherished those visits.

On this particular visit, he was feeling pretty good, so the conversation was all over the place at times. I didn’t mind. I never minded these conversations. We talked about some recent visitors he had received. He asked about my job, my wife Rachael, and how things were going in general. We discussed past memories, he told a few stories, and we talked about many other things that came to mind. It was one of the better visits I’d had with him in a while, and I was glad it was turning out to be that way.

Before I left later that afternoon, I told him I was going to Joplin for a benefit for an old friend, Stan Elmore, who was in the hospital due to his own failing health. I told him that I thought I would try to leave a little earlier so I could stop by the hospital to visit with him, before heading to the benefit. Dad said he would be praying for him, then got a smirk on his face. It was a smirk I was familiar with. He usually got it when he was about to say something silly, witty, or off the wall. He said, “Tell Stan I’m praying for him. I guess that’s kind of like the dead praying for the dead.” He chuckled. I smiled and maybe even laughed a little, I don’t recall my reaction very clearly now. The comment was a play on Scripture, coupled with his typical self-depreciating humor. Even though he had been suffering for years now, he still found it within himself to crack jokes, to never complain, and to generally have a positive attitude about his situation. It’s an attitude I hope I can replicate, no matter the difficulties I may face.

It would only be a few more minutes and I’d be on the road to Joplin.

When I arrived at Freeman Hospital to see Stan, he seemed exhausted and a little out of it. He didn’t talk much. After the initial pleasantries and small talk, I made sure I told him that dad said hi and that he was praying for him. Stan said he appreciated it and was praying for dad too. Then he apologized and said he wanted to close his eyes and rest. I didn’t want to bother him much more, so our visit was very short. I moved on and attended the benefit concert and auction being held for he and his family.

These visits would turn out to be the last, real conversations I would have with my father and with Stan. 

My plans were to return in May. Life doesn’t always go as planned. I ended up returning in mid-April because dad had suffered a heart attack. He would pass away on April 21st, surrounded by family. Less than a month removed from dad’s funeral, Stan would pass away too. Dad was 57. Stan was 56. Far too young by most standards, yet as I’ve already said, life doesn’t always go as planned.

The next time I found myself in dad’s room at the care center, it was an unseasonably cold and foggy day in April. I was with my brother Micah, and we were packing up dad’s possessions a couple of days before his funeral. Many who had been there caring for him over the years kept coming in to tell us they were going to miss him, that he was their favorite to deal with, to talk with, to care for. It wasn’t exactly how I had planned my return trip, but it was nice to hear them talk so kindly about him.

“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to be breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” ~ Marcus Aurelius

I’m doing that more often than before, Marcus. That much is sure. 

A lot of times I like my posts to have some sort of take away. Something meaningful or useful to wrap it up with in a nice little bow. I’m not sure this post can be like that. Quite simply, I needed to write. I needed to get some thoughts off my chest. I needed to tell a story, and perhaps I’ll tell a few others in the coming days. A lot of stories have been rattling around in my head the past month. Things I’ve not been talking about, but I know aren’t good to keep bottled up inside. I hope you all won’t mind, and thank you for reading. 

A few years ago, I was called out for complaining about something that, quite frankly was a waste of time to complain about. It was at work, and I was irritated by a set of circumstances that ultimately I couldn’t change, but I felt should have never occurred. It was making my job more difficult, so I began to complain (maybe even whine a bit). When I stopped, I overheard someone mock what I said quietly and in a whiny voice behind my back. They were unaware that I had heard them. At first I was angry. Then I thought about it. He was right to mock me. I was being whiny and I needed to stop it. It was a hard lesson to learn in the moment, but one I needed to learn.

It’s easier to react negatively to most things in life. 

Reacting negatively by complaining and whining about things around us, is easy. It’s also lazy. It requires little self-awareness and no forethought. It can even cause others not to want to be around us.

The gas prices are out of control? Complain to everyone in the car when you pass a gas station. Your favorite politician didn’t get elected? Whine about how the country is falling apart. Your day didn’t go according to plan? Whine about it to anyone who will listen in an attempt to gain sympathy. People at work or school doing stupid things to make your life miserable? Complain about it to your co-worker or friends. New music today is terrible? Alright, I still catch myself using this one sometimes because, well, Justin Bieber. I’ve got to learn to keep my mouth shut and do all I can to make sure I’m never subjected to it.

The fact is, every generation since the invention of the automobile has probably complained about the price of gas. Maybe some of the complaints were legitimate, but unless you were a member of OPEC and could magically drop the price of oil, what good did it do to complain to everyone? In the early in the 1980’s the Democrats thought their world was falling apart. In the 1990’s the Republicans. In the early 2000’s, the Democrats. In the past 4 plus years and the next 4, it’s the Republicans turn again. See a trend? Everyone since the dawn of time has had a bad day or a day that just didn’t work out like they had planned. Ever read about Job in the Bible? That guy had a bad day. The difference between his reaction and yours (or mine)? He didn’t really complain. People do stupid things. Sure, it can be an inconvenience, but I do stupid things sometimes too. Complaining about other people’s stupid actions won’t improve anything for you or for anyone around you.

I guess the question is, how do you react to all of the things in life that you have to deal with? There lies the solution. If your initial reaction (to most things in life) is negative, you’re likely to find yourself complaining and maybe even whining about things that you have no reason to be complaining about. I know this from my own foolish experience, and I suspect you do too, because you’re pretty smart. Maybe we should work on that character flaw?

Sometimes the complaints are overblown, even if valid.

Maybe some of our complaints are valid. Look, I realize it is entirely possible to have a complaint about someone or something, and it be perfectly reasonable. But, how are we presenting our complaint? How are we reacting to the situation that may require a solution of some kind? Can we help provide the solution? Will complaining help, or hurt the solution?

Is the situation nearly as bad as we think it is? Before we start shouting our grievances to the top of our Facebook rooftops, maybe we should try to gain some perspective. It never hurts to take a step back and survey the field before we air any sort of complaint.

Sometimes our culture and especially the media can make things seem much worse than they are. If we’re not careful, we can find ourselves getting sucked into one flavor of the week after the next. Before we realize it, we’re complaining about one issue after another, often when there isn’t a whole lot we can do about them.

The current flavor of the week for many politicians and media types is violence. More specifically, gun violence. I agree, it’s horrible that anyone would kill another human being (no matter the tool used to kill them) and we should do all that we can to ensure it never occurs. However if you listened only to politicians, popular culture, and the media you’d think the world has gone murder happy. Yet, it hasn’t according to Randolph Ross, professor of history at Ohio State University, “We’re at as low a place as we’ve been in the past 100 years. The rate oscillates between about 5 and 9 [per 100,000], sometimes a little higher or lower, and we’re right at the bottom end of that oscillation.” I invite you to read the entire article here. After reading that article, all I can say is, I’m glad I wasn’t living in Texas between 1846 and 1887 and its counties with 500 murders per 10,000 people. Obviously, the eyes of a Texas Ranger were no where to be found in those counties.

So if complaining and especially whining doesn’t usually help the problem, what can we (regular Joe, you, and me) do? It’s pretty simple, really. Here are my two personal rules when I begin to feel the need to complain:

• If the problem is something I can fix or improve, then I need to do just that.
• If the problem is something I can’t do much about in the grand scheme of life, I need to just keep my mouth shut.

In both cases of course, never complaining if it can be helped, and certainly never any whining. That’s the hard part. I know. I’m still working on it, but over the past few years it has been worth it.

Thank you, mocking co-worker.