Marshall Ramsey

The big yellow school bus dropped off its most valuable cargo. The mom watched as her son Danny ran up the sidewalk and through the front door.  She greeted him and asked him how his day was.  “Fine,” was about all she ever got. So she started asking him some other questions.  This was the time a day when she tried to teach the kid a few morals.

“So what have you learned from the dog?” the mom looked down at her son.

“To pee in your shoe when you make me mad?” the blond-haired, blue-eyed, seven-year-old imp said back.

“I was hoping you’d find a little deeper life lesson like say, ‘greet people with a wagging tail to make a friend.'”

The boy looked suspiciously at his mother. “Mom, that sounds like a fortune cookie had a love child with Oprah.”

“You’re a smart-alec like your father.  And how do you know about the term ‘love-child?'”

“At least I’m smart,” the little boy grinned, avoiding the second question..

Yes, he was smart. Much to the bedevilment of his parents.  He got good grades but not as good as he was capable of — he managed to do just what he had to get by. And since he was nothing short of brilliant, that wasn’t very much.  What he could do (and did well) was read people. He knew how to charm everyone.  His parents feared he would end up either in Parchman or the Governor’s Mansion.  They didn’t know what was worse.

“My teacher sent home a note today.”

His mother’s blood ran cold.

“Now what?” she sighed.  She unfolded it and read it silently.

Dear Mrs. Rankin,

Danny had to go to the principal’s office today for starting a fight.

When the mom read that first sentence, she felt her temperature boil. But then as she read on, her heart began to beat harder. She continued to read the note:

Danny beat up three little boys on the playground and will have to be punished for it. I know you understand and support that. But I also feel you need to know the circumstances behind the fight. We have a little boy named Jared in our class who is a special needs child. Three of the boys were throwing rocks at him and teasing him near the swing sets.  Then one of them pushed Jared down.  I observed this and was heading rapidly across the playground to stop it. What I saw next took my breath away. Danny dove off the top of slide and tackled two of the boys.  He then tripped the third with his foot, causing him to hit the ground hard. Danny climbed on the lead boy and began punching him. He said over and over, “YOU WILL NOT BE MEAN TO MY FRIEND JARED.”  Yes, your son will have to be punished. But he was really good to Jared today.

The mother sat the note down and began to cry.  There in front of her was her biggest challenge: The little boy who had the God-given gift of pushing every one of her buttons and getting on her very last nerve.  But also there was a little boy who had the heart of a lion.  A child, who at the age of seven, recognized injustice in the World and acted on it.  The little boy who took up for a boy who could not defend himself against bullies.

“No video games for a week and you can’t go out and play.”

“Aw mom!” Danny protested.

The mom then hugged Danny tight and said, “Jared is lucky to have a friend like you. Just like I’m lucky you’re my son.”

And at that moment, she knew her little boy would grow up to be a fine man.

The garage door went up and then went down. The 43-year-old man sat in his old car, unable to muster the strength to unlock its door and head inside.  It had been a terrible day at work. How could explain what had happened to his wife. To his kids? They deserved better than him. Maybe he could just spend the night in the car.  Maybe no one heard the door and would notice the car in the garage.  Maybe he needed to man-up and go inside. No, he would stew in his failure for a few minutes longer.

He looked over at the old 1970 Mustang sitting next to his 1999 Buick.  It had been his high school car and now sat in dusty disrepair. (like so many other things in his life.)  He got out of his Buick and quietly walked around to the driver’s side door. He opened it and sat down, putting his hands on the big steering wheel. He took a deep breath and smelled the familiar musty smell.  He closed his eyes for a moment and remembered all the good times he had had in it. Life had been so simple back them.  God, he wished he could go back twenty five years.

God listens to random requests and occasionally grants them.  The windshield got blurry and then the man felt nauseous. The world went black. He had passed out.

He woke up in his car in his high school’s parking lot.  “What. The. Heck?” he thought as he looked around. There wasn’t a car newer than a 1986 model in the parking lot.  He quickly got out of Mustang and took cover behind the trees. Kids were coming out starting to get in their cars.  He saw himself coming out of the building. “Man I was thin. And look at all that hair!” he thought.  Then he had an idea.  “Maybe, just maybe….”

The teenaged version of himself sat down quickly in driver’s seat. He looked around quickly and scream, “ARGGGGGHHHH!!!! WHO ARE YOU?”

“You.”

The teenaged version of the man tried to take a swing at his older counterpart, but the older man blocked the punch. “I knew you’d do that.”

“HELP!!!!”

No one heard him.

“Let me say this slowly, I’m you. I’m 25-years-older, but I’m you.”

The teenager turned pale.

“You know that scar on your arm from when you went through the sliding-glass door?” The man lifted his sleeve and there it was.

“What happened to my hair?”

“Baldness happens.”

“And why did you let me get so fat?”

“Well, that’s one of the things, I want to talk to you about.  You’re going to make some mistakes in the next few years. And make some good decisions.  I’m here to help you out.”

The teenager hadn’t yet cranked the Mustang. He just sat there, looking at the old version of himself.

“First of all, here’s a picture of our wife and kids.”

“Dude, she’s hot.  I did good.”

“Yes, you did. You’ll meet her in college.  You’ll get married and then you’ll become a jerk. That’s what you have to change.  Here’s how.”

The old version of the man wrote down a list of things and handed to the boy.

The boy looked at it and looked curiously at the old man, “You mean I took a babe like that for granted?”

“Pretty much. The emotional bank account ran out of funds about five years ago.  Yes, she’ll be a pain in your butt — but much of it is because how you behaved.”

The teenager started getting a little color back in his skin.

“And another thing, finish what you started. Make your word your bond. And you need to set goals. Here is how.”

The older man wrote down another page of ideas.

The boy looked it over and said, “But this seems so simple.”

“It is. But we didn’t do it.  And our troubles began to snowball. About a year ago, you started to give up on your dreams.”

“To be a…….”

The older man interrupted him, “Yes. You became quite successful. But you didn’t change. And change came back to bite you in the butt.  Be proactive.”

“Proactive?” the teenager looked at him confused.

“Don’t wait for things to come to you. Go out and be aggressive.”

The older man then lifted his shirt. “And wear sunscreen. You don’t want this scar right here.”

The boy looked at the nine-inch gash on the stomach.

“One more thing, take better care of ourself.  I’m tired of being fat and out of shape.”

“Um, yes sir.”

The view out of the windshield started getting blurry.

“I don’t have much more time here,” the older man said to his younger self. “Love on Mom and Dad. You’ll miss the heck out of them when they are gone.  I’m not going to tell you when and how, just trust me on this one.  And one more thing — smack your sister for me.”

Both laughed.

And then the world went dark for the older man.

He woke up in the Mustang, which was completely restored. He felt his stomach. It was flat and there was no melanoma scar. He looked around the garage. It was different — it was bigger and neater.  His used Buick was now a new BMW. He ran to the door and there were his kids. But they were somehow different.  They were happier.  And actually glad to see him.

He walked into the kitchen and he heard his wife’s voice call out to him.  It sounded different, too.  And also happier.

His wife ran around the corner and hugged him. “I missed you so much today!”

He was stunned.

“I’m so proud of your promotion, “She continued. ” I knew you’d get it. You’ve worked so hard. And the boys have been so looking forward to you coming home. They’re ready to go running with you.”

The father looked over at his sons.  They were busy getting on their running shoes.  The rest of the house was tidy, but very well-appointed.  Obviously he made more money now.

He put down his briefcase and walked over to a row of pictures. There was a picture of him from high school sitting in the Mustang.  “I’m glad you listened,” he said quietly as he looked at his 18-year-old self. “I’m glad you listened.”

Some life lessons aren’t learned in self-help books.  At the age of eight, Mike Franks learned the key to survival the hard way in the waters off of Destin, Florida.

In the summer of 1988, the Gulf of Mexico had never been more blue-green. The white sand burned his feet as he ran from his mom and dad’s umbrella toward the cool water.  A yellow flag crisply stood out against the deep blue sky but he didn’t notice it. He dove into the crashing surf and headed toward the sand bar that was a few hundred feet off shore.  A plane flew overhead pulling a banner, its engine barely heard over the screaming kids and breaking waves.  He poked his head up out of the water and looked back toward the shore.  He saw his parents and waved. As they waved back, it happened.

He felt himself being pulled out to sea.

An eight-year-old’s mind thinks of many things in a time of panic like that.  Mike’s was only focused on survival.  He began swimming as hard as he could and fighting the rip current. He felt his lungs burn.  He kicked and thrashed as hard as he could. And he knew he was getting swept farther out to sea. He hadn’t had enough life for it to flash in front of his eyes. Exhaustion set in. He knew he was going to drown.

And then he felt a sudden calm.  He heard a voice in his head that said, “Don’t resist, Mike. Don’t resist. Swim parallel to the shore.”

Mike did as the voice said and felt the rip current break its grip on him.

Exhausted, Mike floated until he got the strength to head back to shore. Lifeguards finally reached him and helped him back.  He got on the beach and collapsed in a heap, held by his crying mother.

Twenty-four years later.

Mike had been hit right between the eyes by the Great Recession. He remembered sitting in that office and seeing the manager dispassionately inform him of the cutback. He was now busy working two jobs trying to make ends meet.  It seemed like the rip current had caught him once again, dragging him out to sea.  Every night, he’d put his children to bed, watch his wife sleep and proceed to get angry.  Angry at the corporation who had cut him.  Angry at the world.  He’d fight against the tide. And now, he was just tired.  Tired of pushing back. Tired of the frustration. Tired of the hopelessness. He felt like he was going to drown. His life flashed before his eyes.

Until one night he heard the voice again.

He felt a sudden calm.  He heard a voice in his head that said, “Don’t resist, Mike. Don’t resist. Swim parallel to the shore.  Forgive.”

Forgive? Mike had struggled with the world.  Sure, Sunday School had taught him that it was a very New Testament idea.  But seriously, how could he forgive the people who were screwing with his life? The very people whose decision was hurting his children? Taking all that he had worked so hard for?   His anger swelled and pulled him out to sea.

Then he heard it again,  “Don’t resist, Mike. Don’t resist. Swim parallel to the shore. Forgive.”

That’s when Mike realized what it truly meant to forgive. He thought about that fateful day 24 years ago. He quit resisting. He quit being angry. He started swimming another way.

And he broke free from the rip current’s grip.

At that moment, he realized it was time to start swimming to safety. It was time start working on the things he had control of.  It was time to let go of the past and make a new and better life.   And in that dark bedroom, Mike Franks let go of his anger, found peace and headed to shore.