Thursday, April 25, 2019

Growth


It's spring! It's the season of new life, growth, change, and fresh starts.

Lately, I've been thinking about how far I've come--how much I've grown. For instance, I can now keep orchids alive. (See above.) I've also decided that one of the most profound changes that's come with my age has to be a certain kind of confidence.

I've learned a lot over the course of my adulthood. And Douglas Adams had the main lesson right: "Don't Panic!" (Sorry--I don't know what font has large, friendly letters.)

--1991--

At the tender age of 18, I hadn't learned that lesson yet. I still panicked.

When I went back to school to start my sophomore year of college, I got my first-ever, very-own landline installed without the help of parents or the university. I felt extraordinarily proud of my new beige princess phone and immediately called home. I proudly conveyed my new phone number and set a time for a longer call the next day.

The next day, I waited and waited but no call came. When I finally caved and called home, I learned that my mom HAD called, while I'd been in my room. I hadn't gotten the call. My new phone was broken!

I called the phone company. “My new phone is broken; I can make outgoing calls, but I’m not getting incoming calls.”

Not long after, a technician arrived at my new university housing apartment. The big, burly, fatherly guy picked up the princess phone in one hand, looked it over, and...

...flipped on the ringer.

I died a little inside.

*****

--2019--
 
At the far more mature age of forty-six, I handle all sorts of routine, responsible things. For example, I get our piano tuned every six months. It's a pain to schedule because our tuner travels; he's only in Florida a couple of times a year. Our beloved and beautiful piano is also getting up in years, so it has sometimes needed a repair or two.

So I recently caught the piano tuner on his one day in town and scheduled a tuning. Later that day, our teen sat down to practice, then hollered, “The C above middle C is making that buzzing noise again!!!”

Without turning a hair or raising my voice, I replied,  “Adjust the picture frames on top of the piano.”

S. shouted back, “That’s not the problem!!! Why would it only happen with that C?”

After a brief pause and a few notes, I heard a quiet,  “Oh. That fixed it.”

Don't panic, my child.


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