My dad was an imaginative, quick, brilliant, ADHD person who believed that anything is possible, or couldn't fail as long as he believed it hard enough. Sometimes his ideas were about what he could accomplish and other times they involved other people like my brothers and me.
At the pool, when Dad let go of me in the water, I remember struggling, panicking, trying to keep my head above the water line. Dad, instead of helping me, was telling me to swim, paddle, kick; he just knew I could do it. Why wasn't he helping me?! (No, this doesn't have a happy ending, although I didn't drown so maybe you could call it happy.) When he finally realized that I wasn't going to backstroke my way to the side of the pool, hoist myself out of the water and stand proudly waiting for my score he came and put his arms around me and informed me that I was fine and that I should stop crying. I remember being so angry at him. How could he do that to me?! I almost died! (Not really, but my 3-year-old self thought so.) How did he expect me to do something for which I'd never received even a bit of training?
Now, I'm old enough to have a 13-year-old granddaughter. Dad recently died and named me as an executor in his trust. Although I have held various jobs during Rick's and my married life, I'm currently struggling to learn what needs to be done to manage the trust, the properties included in the trust, and trying to deal with disagreements on matters close to the heart. I told my cousin about Dad throwing me in the pool and commanding me to swim. He immediately started to laugh and said, "He did it again, didn't he?!" Yes, he sure did.
I can do this! I have always had two mantras that have served me well through motherhood, gramma-hood, and family-hood. They are:
- It is what it is.
- You do what you have to do.
- Research and act... don't react.
I can swim now.
I can do this!