When I was growing up my parents loved listening to, “The Paul Harvey Show”, on the radio. He did a segment called, “And Now You Know…” It would start with a story that held a common collective belief or premise. Harvey would then tell little known details and facts so that by the end of the show you would have a fuller picture. The intention of his stories was to get the listener to consider more than one perspective. Harvey would always end with, “And now you know…The rest of the story.”
The poem,”A reason, Season, or Lifetime”, states that people come into our lives for one of these three things. And, when we “figure” out which one it is, it can help you either let go or stay in relationships. It’s a quote I’ve used many times in my life and truly believed it when I did. However, for the past several months I find myself questioning if I still believe that. What is the rest of the story. The answer I’ve come to is that for me it’s more about impact.
Today is 24 years since my brother-in-law, Dean died by suicide. He was not only married to my sister, he was my dear friend. Loved by so many. In the years since I’ve read the words of “The Reason” poem countless times to help me understand and manage his death. Through much personal work and therapy I’ve believed that Dean was in my life for either a reason or a season or perhaps both. In actual years he was only in my life for a small percentage. But, the impact of his life and death sparked the beginning a journey of self discovery that has helped shape the woman I am today. And, in sharing my experience of my relationship with Dean, he’s then left an impact on the lives of people that never met him. In the awareness of that I’m struck by the impact so many other’s have left on my life. And, it’s that word impact that keeps sticking with me and sparking curiosity about the rest of the story.
The reason, season, lifetime idea almost complicates the issue. I realized that even people that are no longer in my life whether it’s from a death or just not talking to them, or having only met them briefly the impact of the encounter stays with me.
When I was in kindergarten and first grade I would walk to school. Emma and Mrs. King were the two crossing guards that I saw every morning and afternoon. Emma was a gruff talking woman that would hurry me along every day when I was lagging behind. Mrs. King was more cheerful in nature. Both of them knew everyone’s name. They helped plant the seeds of learning to trust that more people than my family could care about me. They left an impact.
Mrs. Roth was both my kindergarten and first grade teacher. I remember being excited that the classroom was set up like a castle. My excitement dwindled over time because Mrs. Roth had a habit of screaming throughout the day. Part of our “homework” was that we had to watch Sesame Street everyday when we got home. Our TV rarely worked at home. If we didn’t do our “homework”, we had to sit at our desks during recess. More than once I missed out on recess. When I could watch Sesame Street later I didn’t because it always made me think about sitting out of recess. She left an impact.
When I was about 6 or 7 years old I went with my mom to visit her sister at the restaurant she worked at. Burt Bacharach was one of the partners that owned it. As we were walking in the parking lot I hit my head pretty hard on an air conditioning duct. As I fell down a man ran over and picked me up. My mother ran behind him as he carried me into the restaurant and sat me down on a bar stool. He got ice for my head and made me a Sundae. He arranged the cherries and sprinkles so that the Sundae looked like a clown face. He chatted with my mother and smiled with delight as I ate every drop. That man was Burt Bacharach. Every time since when I’ve heard one of his songs I’ve smiled with the memory of that Sundae. He left an impact.
Mrs. Park was my high school speech and debate teacher for three years. The first day of class she told everybody to stand up. She then told us to move all the chairs to the edges of the room. We were then paired with a partner. She then directed us to sit on the floor facing each other and share one thing about ourselves with each other with added instruction that we had to share a different thing with each person. When we were done we sat in a large circle. We then took turns sitting in the center as Mrs. Park invited the each person in the circle to share what they had learned about the person in the center. When we were done we sat for 15 minutes in silence as we looked around at everyone in the circle with “new eyes” as Mrs. Park called it. This exercise took up the first three classes. It was the only class in high school I never missed and always looked forward to. It was also the only class that I knew everyone’s name. She left an impact.
In 2016 I went to Africa on a journey that started when I had a series of dreams about white lions. The beginning of my journey began in Zimbabwe. Baba Mandaaza was one of our leaders. One particular moment that was physically and emotionally hard I asked Baba if I had come there to die. His response was,”Perhaps you are dying in a way you hadn’t considered before”. The truth was parts of me were dying there. The parts that were blocking growth. He left an impact.
I could go on and on with impact stories. From our first breath to our last we are impacted by the people around us. Our family, friends, co-workers, strangers all impact us in both big and small ways. Some are physically with us our entire lives. Others only for a few moments. However, the impact helps shape our lives and are with us for a lifetime.
Perhaps Impact is the true “Rest of the Story.“