Saturday, October 29, 2005

A lesson from Lazarus

He comes running downstairs almost every morning. He gently calls "Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Jim." I answer "Yes." I don't know what posesses him to call me Jim. In his three-year-old world though, I'm known as Bob, Jim, Fred, whatever he feels like calling me at any particular moment. I don't know how the "Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Jim" tune got started but it's nice. It has a ring to it. It can set my day just to hear that as I'm checking email early in the morning. (For those of you employed readers, my version of Early In The Morning is around 8:30 right now until I find that "one job".)
He has a name for me, it might change, but that's okay. As long as he can place my face with whatever name he chooses, that's all that matters. And really, isn't that all that any of us ever want deep down in the place known as your psyche?
We all just want to be recognized for who we are, what we mean to others, as a fellow human being walking the same path that the person next to you is walking. So, I may be Jim, or Fred, but even in those moments, I know who I am to Lazarus. I'm the guy who can make him smile in almost any given moment. I'm the guy who can pour milk on his cereal when no one else is around. I'm the guy with the "tickle hand." I'm his "tink butt." Well, almost everyone is a "tink butt" if you're around him for more than a few minutes during the day.
My goal for the next few miles of this pathway in life is to make sure that others know who they are to me and what they mean to me so that as we walk this path, they will know that we're in this together.
...and I think the company's just fine...
Lazarus already did it for me, and simple as his version is, it's a nice piece of every day. His pure little mind has churned out a priceless lesson for me. Maybe for you too. So when you surprise someone this week by telling them, in your own way, who they are and what they mean to you, tell them Lazarus made you do it. Feel free to use any name you want to get their attention.
Talk at ya later Gertrude.