Usually I give my Dad credit for instilling many value systems that have become part of my life.
My mother rarely gets mentioned for wisdom. She got dealt a difficult hand in life. She persevered after my Dad died and raised her four children without ever complaining. She was a bright lady. In high school she got straight "A's".
Where am I going with all of this? When I got one of my promotions at Vollrath years ago, my mother mailed to me at work a printed message mounted in a glass covered picture frame. It was her advice to me. It was the only printed information I can ever remember her giving me.
The framed gift was the first paragraph of the Serenity Prayer. It goes:
"God grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change,
COURAGE to change the things I can,
and the WISDOM to know the difference."
For those of you familiar with the prayer, it contains more paragraphs and you can read them if you do the research. Her framed prayer only contained the first paragraph.
I placed that prayer on my office wall (of every job I held). I sometimes tried to remember the phrase verbatim when I was away from the office and I'd get it all screwed up. The essence always stuck with me that there are things you can't change and you need to know when to let those things go. I think I have been pretty good at that but even I struggle at times.
I watched a program on Primetime the other night called the "The Last Lecture". It was about a middle aged man diagnosed with a fatal illness lecturing his family, friends and "the world" about positive principles to live by. He referenced the Serenity Prayer. He accepted that he could not change his fate but he could try to make life better for all those who loved him.
My Mother taught me that. It is amazing how smart Moms can be.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that you need to chill out about things you can't change and change only the things you can. You will avoid getting your shorts in a bunch. It is amazing how often the Serenity Prayer keeps appearing in my life. Hmmmmmm!
Love,
Dad