There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear …
1 John 4:18a

The paper gave her a chance to grow as well. She tried selling … didn’t work. Her sales skills were about as accomplished as mine. She started taking pictures (I hate taking pictures) … worked very well. She had that eye. She was willing to wait for the right shot. She was inventive and intuitive. She saw the unique in the ordinary.

She loved taking nature photos and was real proud of her pictures of the white deer and the sunsets over Seneca Lake. And she was good with people shots … especially her grandkids. She took tons of pictures when Hillary Clinton and other national personalities were in town and was commissioned to photographically chronicle one of the Induction Weekends for the Women’s National Hall of Fame.

She noted in a column she wrote April 15, 1997 – but never gave to me to print (I “discovered” a bunch of them among her journals and papers) – an anecdote of her youth:

Some of you have probably seen me around the county. I’m the one generally with a camera around my neck wearing a Cleveland Browns jacket. I generally just fly in and fly out again.

I’ve become quite good at this “fly” stuff. I have Mom to thank for that. She trained me how to be a “fly” when I was a teen.

As teenagers we all know how to get under our parents’ “skin,” or “pushing their buttons.” I was no exception, though I don’t often admit it. There was one particular day, however…

Mom was raising my sister and me on her own (I was a ’90s kid in the ’60s) and worked two jobs. Being the oldest, it was my job to prepare dinner and clean up and do my studies, etc., etc. All my sister had to do was sit around and look cute!

I decided enough was enough. Why did I have to do everything while she got off scot free?

It was time to stand up for my rights. I prepared a speech which I would deliver to my mother right after dinner. Surely she would see the gross injustice and insist my sister begin to pull her own weight around the house.

As with the millions of teens before me and certainly after me, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I remember getting as far as “You’re just not being fair!” when it happened. My mother seemed to lose it. I hit the “big” button. You know the one – you push, parent goes bezerk immediately!

A wooden paddle used to be the choice of discipline in those days when parents used to be in charge of their children, not the other way around. The paddle was out of reach so Mom grabbed the next best thing – a fly swatter!
  

I decided the best thing I could do was run … around the table that is. I honestly didn’t think my Mom would chase me. Wrong again!

As we circled the table for the third time I began to laugh. Unfortunately my mother failed to see the humor. Our conversation went something like this:

Me: “Mom, I’m not a fly.”

Mom: “Stop running around the table.”

Me: “Do you know how funny you look?”

Mom: “When I get my hands on you!”

Me: “Wow! You’re really out of shape!”

About that time she lunged across the table and whacked me a shot. It was then I began to laugh. I knew Mom wanted to laugh, too. She started to – yelling at the same time. That’s when it happened. She broke into laughter and her false teeth fell out and she yelled like she had a mouth full of marbles. By now I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face.

After we composed ourselves, I discovered speeches work – for politicians.

To be continued …

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK: Do not rely on others for your answers. Seek the wisdom within the kingdom of your heart.