Rediscovering Your Happily Ever After

By Deborah Dee Harper
January 11, 2011

Repeatedly doing the same thing but each time expecting different results is the description of insanity. Expecting someone who has continually treated me poorly to suddenly treat me with honor and respect is going to disappoint only one person. Me.

Expecting an irresponsible individual to act responsibly today is sure to prove frustrating. Certainly, people can choose to make good choices. We hope and pray that they will. It was the expectation that tripped me up. I had to allow other people the freedom to be who they are by releasing them from my expectations. It’s what I want them to do for me.

I had a neighbor who telephoned only to complain. Initially, I greeted each call with enthusiasm, looking forward to building a neighborly relationship. But every encounter was a tirade of criticism. No matter how often I adjusted our lifestyle to please my neighbor, the disapproval continued. After several months of this pattern, I no longer expected us to become friends. I released my neighbor from my expectations.

Surprisingly, I spent years expecting that this time other relationships in my life would treat me honorably. Though I only invested months in expecting my neighbor to be a pleasant addition to my life, I held onto higher expectations for others for decades. Long after patterns showed a relationship was not going to be what I anticipated, I continued to clutch my expectations close. I created excuses and denied reality.

Letting go of my assumptions of how I thought someone should behave, was a healthy step forward. Stepping back and taking an honest look at who this person really was based on consistent behavior was a hearty dose of honesty. When I finally took off my rose-colored expectation spectacles, I no longer left each phone call and encounter perpetually hurt because my high hopes were not fulfilled.

If someone in your life has a history of being inconsiderate, don’t look for him or her to be concerned about your feelings. If your aunt is consistently malicious, I doubt she will suddenly morph into Miss Personality Plus at the next family reunion. If someone withheld money, affection, or respect before, he or she is sure to do the same now.

When you release others from your expectations, you are set free from unhealthy patterns, disappointments, excuse making, and the exhausting effort of living in denial. The person you set free is you.

Looking Glass: If you are thinking maybe this time about anyone, it is a signal that you are clutching onto expectations you have about that person. Expectations regarding how you believe that person should act, behave, or feel.

If you are regularly offended, it is a sure sign that you’re harboring rigid assumptions. It is time to release that person from your expectations and allow them the freedom to be who they truly are.

Got Tea?

By PeggySue Wells

This piece is a tribute to my darling friend who enjoys tea as much as I do. The only thing better than a cup of tea is tea and chocolate chip scones with her.

I met Jenny the day I started piano lessons with her mother. Tall and blonde, Jenny has a troupe of siblings. Petite and brunette, I’m an only child. Jenny took piano lessons because it was what girls did. I made music my life.

Our favorite pastime was tea parties. A Christmas gift the year I was seven, my first tea set was accompanied by a charming trunk filled with dress-up clothes. Rummaging through the trunk, Jenny and I combined fancy hats with strings of pearls to create a queenly appearance. We sipped juice from the tiny dishes.

When we were ten, Jenny and I foraged through the trunk for high-heeled shoes. With wobbling ankles, we picked our way to the kitchen for cocoa from mother’s teapot. We talked about our dreams and our music.

At thirteen, Jenny and I painted our fingernails with polish and our faces with make-up from the trunk. We imagined ourselves as Beatrix Potter and Louisa May Alcott debating book ideas.

When we were 16, the old trunk held an assortment of ecru sweaters with gold buttons entirely suitable for tea. Linen napkins across our laps, we savored real tea from mother’s real China. I would be her bridesmaid. She promised to be mine.

High school graduation flung us into college studies. Jenny’s life went one way, mine another, and on that vast university we rarely saw one another.

Except for one special day. We met up on campus and discovered we both had time before we needed to be somewhere else. With sudden lightheartedness we dashed to the cafe. There was so much to talk about. Jenny had met a man with hair as dark as hers was blonde. Work at the art gallery and art studies consumed the rest of her time. I was pursuing two doctorate degrees in music, and squeezing in a few hours of work. There was a man in my life.

Those minutes turned into hours, and we realized with a start that afternoon classes had long since ended. On the table between us was a teapot our intuitive waitress had discreetly set there before she left to carry on her life away from the cafe. The bill read, “On the house.”

I married that special man. As promised, Jenny was my bridesmaid. My husband and I set up housekeeping near family and friends. Jenny and I enjoyed an occasional cup of tea.

Then everything changed. My husband landed a job 500 miles away. He was elated. He said the move would be an adventure.

Adventure? I was devastated. I didn’t know a soul in that new town and I didn’t make friends easily.

Moving far from loved ones proved difficult. I cried as I unpacked.

Then came the first knock on my new door and the mailman delivered a parcel. I recognized the return address. Dear, lifelong friend Jenny. Those horrible miles between us melted away as I tore at the wrapping.

The paper parted to reveal a teapot and matching teacups. Her note read, “You have my permission to find a close friend in your new home. Then you’ll have two close friends.”

Sunday, my husband and I visited a nearby church. Renee, an effervescent lady, hugged me. “We moved here last year. I know how lonely you feel.”

“Would you come for tea?”

“I’d be delighted.” Renee smiled.

Months later, Jenny sent tea and a note, “I’ll be there Saturday for tea!” It was the first of many visits.

It’s been fifteen years since my husband and I relocated. Renee brought me a beribboned package containing a mug with the words, “May your guardian angel keep watch over you when we’re apart.” Renee and her family were moving out of state.

I sent Renee off with a hug and a package to open on the drive to their new address. The gift held two teacups. My note read, “You have my permission to find a close friend in your new home. Then you’ll have two close friends.”

Jenny and I keep in touch mostly by phone. Jenny’s life takes her to exciting and glamorous places. My world is filled with my children, church, and music. Last week Jenny telephoned. “I’m giving a piano lesson,” I explained. “Can I call you back?”

“’Fraid not,” she replied. “I’m on a layover at the New York airport. I’m putting a package in the mail; tea from a little shop. I thought of you immediately….”

Walk for Litter

In her seventies, Grandma Dee kept in shape by walking a couple miles each day. Occasionally she would knock on my door.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure,” I’d say, reaching for a sweater.

“Think you can keep up?”

Walking a mile down our country road, I followed her lead as she picked up the trash people had thrown from car windows. When I was sufficiently breathless, she’d cross the street and we’d pick up trash on other side as we made our way back. One day my teenage son opened the door when we arrived back at my house.

He eyed our arms, balancing a load of empty beer cans and cigarette wrappers us. “Did you two have a good time?”

Plenty of people walk for exercise. Grandma Dee made her experience into a two-fer. Two activities for one. She maintained enviable health and kept our neighborhood looking inviting.

Some people are slobs. Sometimes the wind blows our trashcans over and scatters our private information for everyone to see. Without judgment, keeping trash picked up is good for the health and appearance of our environment. Disney is world famous for the pristine cleanliness of their parks despite vast numbers of visitors. If Disney can do it for decades, we can do it in our own corner of the world.

There are only two ways to live your life.

One is as though nothing is a miracle.

The other is as though everything is a miracle.

Albert Einstein