Angels and Valentine’s Day 2.14.26

Earlier this week, I visited my Aunt Mary.  At 86 years old, she is the only one of my mom’s nine siblings who is still alive.  So, other than my own siblings, she is my only living connection to my mom. As we sat talking for two and a half hours, we got around to how we both overcame difficult childhoods.  She would be the only one in her family to graduate from high school – and yes, I said high school. In addition to graduating from high school, she would meet an amazing man, Thomas, who would become her husband and partner.  They would build an amazing life together, raising three wonderful human beings, one of whom works tirelessly as a lawyer advocating for those who are disabled.

Growing up, I remember how nice Mary and Thomas were to my family.  My first pair of blue jeans, which I wore in the 10^th grade, were hand-me-down jeans from one of her sons. I admired Mary and her family so much growing up.  And I vowed that one day I would have my own loving family – like hers. 

She wrote this to Elizabeth and me before our 40^th anniversary. “I have very fond memories of you through the years.  When you were very young, Thomas and I loved having you and your 2 brothers come to visit and play with our 2 boys. I wish it could’ve happened more often.  Also, we came to watch you act in the Louisa school plays. Your Mom was so proud of you then and continued through the years as you prospered more. I admire how you have worked so hard to make a good life for yourself and your family. I think growing up in poverty as you did and I, also, made us more determined to work harder.”  I treasure that passage coming from the one person I admired for building a wonderful life for her own family.

As I sat speaking to my aunt, we eventually discussed our childhoods.  I wanted the conversation to go in this direction because I am now hungry for her stories. Mary recently wrote to me, “Johnny, you are truly a down-to-earth good person who isn’t ashamed of the life you lived growing up.  I also talk about the way I grew up. People look at me like I must be talking nonsense; nobody goes to bed crying from being hungry. Nobody washes their body in a metal pan one body part at a time. I’ve always loved the way Dolly Parton did the same things and made it sound so funny, which wasn’t funny, but she wasn’t ashamed of it. Her sister was ashamed of her telling those things, but Dolly grew up like us and is not ashamed because she overcame that situation just like you and me. I think that makes us more understanding of other people’s bad luck and more willing to help with their needs.”

I did not always talk about my childhood so openly. But now that I am comfortable doing so, I need Mary’s stories also because I need them for my book.  Yes, the book I now keep telling everyone I am going to write one day.  And for the first time, I shared with Mary my desire to write a book – about the need for community, relationships, and human connection.  I told her that the title of the book would be “The Myth of the Self-Made Man”.  She laughed when I told her that Elizabeth suggested that the subtitle should be “And you cannot make this s**t up!” But then she queried me on what I meant by the title.  I told her that people, especially Americans admire and almost worship people who are or claim to be self-made individuals. Even our current President tries to drape this moniker on himself.  But I truly believe this notion of a self-made man is a myth.  And she responded, “Johnny, how can you say that? You of all people are an example of that.”  And to her credit, she has every right to challenge me on that because, like me, she could argue that she was self-made. 

I told her that her response is the reason I need to write this book – because I think I have the moral authority to debunk that myth.  She continued to challenge me.  And I loved this exchange with her because if nothing else, my aunt Mary is smart.  So, I told her about my theory of Angels.  I believe that anyone who claims to be self-made is self-delusional. I do believe that intelligence, hard work and grit play a huge role in getting out of difficult circumstances.  However, I can provide names of plenty of people who have those traits who ended up not having successful lives, some of whom are relatives of mine.  Angela Duckworth, who wrote the book “Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance” does a great job of explaining why perseverance is so important. And I agree with her. But these same people who claim to be self-made are not giving enough credit to people in their lives who gave them opportunity, who shaped them, and who loved them. I call these people Angels. So, I gave my aunt Mary examples of each of these people in my early life – from 7^th grade to the 11^th grade.  

Opportunity – I have a long list of Angels here, so I gave Mary a very early one. Before the seventh grade, I was an average student, making A’s, B’s and C’s. But then in the seventh grade I somehow got tapped to be in a “special class” in which we spent periods of time with intense focus on Spanish, French, Geography, History, etc. That class sparked what would become a life-long desire to learn, to be intellectually curious.  Whoever that person was who decided to put me in that class was an Angel.  I am pretty sure that if I had not taken that class, my academic career would have been different.  Meg Jay talks about these connections in her book “The Defining Decade.” She argues, and I believe she is right, “that there are people who will impact your life who you will never meet.” She calls these connections “loose connections.”  There would be several of these loose connection Angels later in my life who I would never meet.

Being shaped – I have another long list of Angels who helped me develop a healthy ethical framework.  And these angels continue in my life. When I was in the 8^th grade, our bus driver was an 11^th grader who attend Mineral Baptist Church.  Because I sat in the front of the bus, we eventually struck up conversations. He told me about the church’s bus ministry.  The church bus would drive around the rural community near Mineral Baptist and pick up “unchurched kids”.  He suggested that I try it out.  I did, and it changed my life forever.  Sam, who was that bus driver, ended up being a North Star for me. And others at Mineral Baptist Church helped me develop an early ethical, spiritual, and theological framework that changed my life. 

I attempted to get my mom to attend Mineral Baptist – many times.  She never did attend and would say, “that church is filled with a bunch of hypocrites.”  And I believe she had every right to believe that because, I am sure, that when she was growing up with nothing, some people shunned her.  And maybe some of those same people who shunned her attended Mineral Baptist.  And so, yes, there were some hypocrites in the congregation. But there were also many more Angels.  But even some of those angels can be clueless. Mary recently wrote the following, “Someone made a statement once at Christmas time at church when we were looking for a family to help. I’ll never forget; ‘it’s hard to find that many in need anymore’ or something to that effect.’ I said, ‘ride with me sometime in the rescue squad and see the houses we go in, you’ll change your mind’”. 

Love – There are two women in my life who have given me so much love.  And this is why I am writing this on Valentine’s Day.  The first is my mom.  My aunt Mary and I talked about our moms.  Mary told me that she went to counseling for many years.  She struggled with the following question, “Why didn’t my father and mother love me, especially my mother?” The counselor told her, and she said she never forgot this, “People cannot give you what they do not have.” Knowing my grandmother, I do not think she had love to give. So, Mary had to grow up without unconditional love.  My mom on the other hand, gave that to me in spades.  She loved me unconditionally, as she did all her children. My mom was one of the Angels in my life, who showed me what unconditional love looked like.  Bill Clinton, one of our former presidents, who grew up in difficult circumstances, was once asked what helped him become successful. Without hesitation, he said, “my mom’s unconditional love. She gave me a belief in myself.”

The other woman who modeled unconditional love in my life is my wife, Elizabeth.  We met in high school when I was in the 11^th grade, and she in the 9th.  One day, while we were rehearsing – Elizabeth and I were in drama together – I remember telling my best friend Todd while pointing to Elizabeth, “that is the kind of woman I want to marry someday.”  And that is the God-to-honest truth.  However, I did not think I deserved her.  So, I tried to push her away.  Somehow, she saw something in me that I did not see in myself.  And so, she did not give up on me. And she, through a love that I still admire, helped me believe in myself.  Again, Aunt Mary nailed it when she wrote to me, “Elizabeth was the best thing that could’ve happened in your life. She worked right along beside you to help accomplish what you two now have and helping you to enjoy life.”

So, after sharing with Mary these three examples, she came around to my point of view and said she now saw my point.  But then she looked at me squarely in the eye and said, “You need to write this book because I want to read it.” Mary, that is why I am now writing these stories.

This story is my valentine to my aunt Mary, a valentine to my late mother, and a valentine to the person who is the best thing that could have happened in my life, Elizabeth.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Johnny