I met Ann through work when she became a patient at my clinic. The first time I saw her name on the schedule I knew instantly who she was. She was a well known scholar. I had watched documentaries she had been in, and listened to her husband's tapes. I felt lucky for the opportunity to interact with her. We quickly became friends during her frequent visits to our clinic. We talked about many things, and I soaked her wisdom up like a sponge. Though nearly 90, I learned that she was still actively teaching at BYU as an expert on Isaiah, and that she had been teaching there for 47 years. I began to keep a running list of questions to ask her. I was going through a particularly rigorous program at the time, and she told me she would put my name on her "prayer list", a literal list of people she prayed specifically for on a regular basis. I felt honored.
As Ann's condition worsened, she was forced to spend some time in the hospital, and then at a care facility. That did not stop her from doing podcasts and other things from wherever she was. It also did not seem to dampen her spirits. She was cheerful, happy and kind. Her laugh was contagious. One couldn't help but be drawn in by her.
One day in the fall I decided to bring Ann some peaches and plums from my trees. I packed them up and went to visit her at the care facility. She was busy writing her memoirs, and read me what she had recently written about knowing Spencer W. Kimball all her life. It was fascinating to listen to her read it. We had a nice little chat and I left her the fruit. Later that day she called to thank me for the plums and asked me if I could bring her some more.
Eventually plum season was over, and I couldn't supply her with any more plums, but I continued to visit her. We had lovely visits. The more we talked, the more I wanted to ask her questions and learn from her. She promised to read me more of her memoirs, and I was eager to hear them.
One morning I showed up at work to be informed by another nurse that Ann had died in her sleep. I was devastated. I was just getting to know this wonderful new friend, and had so much I wanted to learn from her. I hadn't gotten to ask her all my questions either. I was so sad. The pain of regret for not getting to have a longer friendship with her stung at me for days.
Finally I realized the error of my thinking. I could make myself miserable pining for what was lost, or I could be grateful for the amazing opportunity I had been given. What if I had not known her at all? What if I had never gotten to talk to her, learn from her, hear her stories? But I did, and while it ended too soon for me, I wanted to see and honor the gift I had been given instead of wishing for more. When I switched to this way of thinking, my heart turned from regret and sadness to gratitude and appreciation. I began to think with fondness of our short friendship together instead of regret that it had not been longer.
There are always two ways of looking at things. It is like two sides of the same coin The situation is the same, but one side of the coin is sad, dark and negative. Flipping your figurative coin over you will often find good that came, gratitude, appreciation, and lessons learned. Just switching the thinking makes the situation feel completely different!
What hard thing is happening in your life? Is there a different way to look at your situation? Flip your coin over. What do you find?
