Gemco, Fire, and Rewriting the Narrative
Mobile: Redblack Vanilla
On fire
“But if I blow on it,” asked bird, “won’t it go out?”
“It depends,” replied fox. “The same breath that extinguishes also excites. Intention, my little friend, is everything.”
Thoughts while making
“I didn’t mean to light it on fire,” I explained.
The fire chief seemed skeptical.
I was seven.
My mom and two of my siblings had gone into Gemco and would “be right back.”
Apparently, they were gone long enough for me to climb into the front seat of my dad’s 1976 Toyota Landcruiser, press in the cigarette lighter, pull it out, marvel at the glowing red-orange, touch and burn myself, and huck it into the very back of the truck.
Apparently, they were also gone long enough for the stacks of piled-up newspaper (for a Cub Scout paper drive) to catch on fire, as well as my sister’s First Communion dress (sorry, Heather).
And, yes, they were gone long enough for me to hang out the side door with smoke beginning to billow – following my orders to “stay in the car.”
I didn’t know the man who grabbed me. I didn’t know the woman who carried me away to safety. I also didn’t know the firemen who put an axe through the still smoldering middle seat.
But I did know my dad. And I had to tell him what happened.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I heard the front door close. I heard his black, hard-soled shoes slowly walking down the hall. I could barely breathe, and was already crying.
He asked me what happened. I told him. And that was it.
To this day, I don’t recall exactly what he said. But I do know none of my what I feared would happen happened. He didn’t yell. He didn’t tell me I was a bad kid.
Because he never did.
Many years later, I learned that he’d lit his childhood garage on fire. I can only imagine that – instead of dishing out the response he was given – he saw me in him and him and me, and decided to change the narrative.
What a powerful gift we can offer one another these days, when – instead of fanning flames – we can embrace our shared humanity and make the decision to change the narrative, one interaction at a time.
Where’s one place you can seek to better understand and embrace this week?
