Driving Miss Crazy

Maiden voyage for DH on Wednesday. We needed to run a couple of errands and so I asked him if he wanted to drive. He was ambivalent, to say the least. Excited to drive, but wary: it has been 6 plus weeks. He told me "I really want to stick with the familiar at first, you know, drive a bit around the neighborhood, get my bearings." I immediately said "COSTCO!" I mean the car can practically drive itself there, so no worries! He did just fine. I could tell he was nervous, stopping a little longer, looking a little further down the road, scanning for traffic...but all in all, it was good. He got more comfortable and relaxed as the time went by. One hairy moment was when a car came around the bend INTO OUR LANE at a very blind corner (no pun intended), but DH saved the day and compensated. I think it was a good first start. Granted, we won't be driving to Ohio or anything, but baby steps, baby steps. Speaking of which, when a baby starts walking, we expect him or her to fall a lot as they keep getting up and keep on trying.  (Sometimes falling, and getting up while still crying) We are a lot harder on ourselves as we grow up. We think if we have a set back it is a BAD thing, but really it is a learning process. The hard part is to keep getting up in spite of falling. Many years ago, a class I was taking in college was for calligraphy. The teacher impressed on us what a wonderful thing it was to be a beginner in anything. You want to give your best and you are gung ho to practice and be more forgiving of yourself than when you've been doing something for awhile. My biggest problem has always been perfection. If I knit something and it is not perfect, I almost always tear it out and start over.
I once read where a story about how the Amish purposely knit or sew something with a flaw so as not to get too proud. Don't know if this is apocryphal, but I will take it at face value. Sometimes by wanting something to be too perfect it makes you lose pleasure in the hobby. I just finished knitting a dishcloth that isn't perfect. Somehow, I messed up a stitch and tried to compensate w/o tearing it apart. I notice the flaw; I doubt if the giftee would notice it. I used to point out the flaws, but no more. It is still a gift of love. Just like human relationships, we are all flawed, but by giving what is our best (even if it is not someone else's best) it is still a gift of love. My friend A pointed out this morning that we are so busy comparing ourselves to others and their "best" may not be OUR best, but OUR best is just fine. There will always be someone more talented, better looking, thinner, more put together, richer, blah blah blah. We have got to cut ourselves a break here!
I love my DH so very much and I am so proud of him. He is doing everything humanly possible to get better, from eye exercises to eating vegan-ish w/o complaint. He is giving it his best shot. Not just for himself, but for ME and our family. He is a shining example of the gift of love. And, if he fails, (or what he constitutes as failure) he is a little more forgiving of himself than he used to be. I used to listen to a radio show where the talk show host would tell people to do this or that. They would reply "I'll try!" She would get so mad and rag on them that you either do it or not, no try about it. So, ok, I will do it (whatever "it" is at the moment) and if it doesn't work, well alright. I will look for another way.

I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.
Thomas A. Edison
PS, speaking of failure: My "H" button on the keyboard is not working, so I reread my blog posting and it said stuff like: Tis or Tat and umanly possible. Well, if the darn keyboard isn't working, should I expect perfection from myself? HA. or A. Guess not.