Surviving Bear Encounters
A bear sits on the steps that lead in and out of your house. Sometimes when you leave the house, the bear climbs on your back and goes with you. Other times, he stays home and awaits your return. Sometimes he is sleeping and you can tiptoe past him so quietly that he doesn’t even know you are leaving. He can be mean and grouchy, but is frequently content and quiet. But you are always aware of the bear.
Photo: © Can Stock Photo / (Top) josefpittner
The bear is risk. The bear is debt. The bear is promises made that are not kept. The bear is the little white lie you tell your boss that resurfaces and needs some explaining. The bear is a dream that is never fulfilled. It may be a long-delayed meeting or discussion you hope will not be necessary. Maybe it is easier to say there are many kinds of bears.
Barely Manageable
Once you reach a certain age, there is no choice in the matter—there will be bears. As I aged, I became aware of the bears, but tried to ignore them. They don’t like to be ignored. Between childhood and adulthood, I tried to keep the bears at bay, but they got really mad. I needed to get a job. I needed to pay my bills. I needed to get on my own and prepare to meet the bears head-on, daily. I found I needed to develop a lot of good habits to prepare for my bear encounters.
See, the bears work in a funny way. Let’s say my car broke down and I didn’t have the money to fix it, so my parents paid for the repair. Two bears would show up. One was snickering that I got the car fixed and didn’t have to pay for it myself. The other bear was angry with me for the same reason. As days passed, the snickering bear became smaller and the angry bear grew larger. There wasn’t room for both in my head, and when the angry bear began kicking the snickering bear around, it kept looking at me like it was my fault. One morning, the angry bear showed up as complete guilt and the snickering bear had disappeared. I grew older that day … and paid my parents back.
Today, as a father, grandfather, husband, brother, son, friend, and confidant, I host a whole platoon of bears. When I co-signed loans for college for both of my sons, I added two very large bears that decided to “lien” on my house. They may be around for a long time, but they shrink a little each month. When my daughters were married, three bears trotted out onto the stage and ganged up on me because all three girls were married within a few months of each other. Those bears were much like Pooh-bear. They were collectively stuck in “Rabbit’s doorway” until I (as Christopher Robbin) pulled them through and sent them packing. It took a while, but I was delighted to hand a few of my daughters’ bears over to their new husbands.
Bearing Down
A bear was waiting outside the emergency room the night my dad died of a heart attack. When I watched my mom come to the realization she was going to be very much alone, that bear waited patiently and then got in the car with me as I drove my mother home. He’s still around, that 22-year-old bear, but he’s usually quiet, and I have found him to be empathetic. He has come to be much like the 6-foot-tall invisible rabbit that Elwood P. Dowd befriended in Harvey… even comforting sometimes.
As Elwood said when people asked him to explain his invisible 6-foot, 3-1/2-inch-tall rabbit named Harvey, “I’d just put Ed Hickey into a taxi. Ed had been mixing his rye with his gin, and I just felt that he needed conveying. Well, anyway, I was walking down along the street and I heard this voice saying, ‘Good evening, Mr. Dowd.’ Well, I turned around and here was this big six-foot rabbit leaning up against a lamp post. Well, I thought nothing of that because when you’ve lived in a town as long as I’ve lived in this one, you get used to the fact that everybody knows your name. And naturally I went over to chat with him. And he said to me ... he said, ‘Ed Hickey was a little spiffed this evening, or could I be mistaken?’ Well, of course, he was not mistaken. I think the world and all of Ed, but he was spiffed. Well, we talked like that for awhile and then I said to him, I said, ‘You have the advantage on me. You know my name and I don't know yours.’ And, and right back at me he said, ‘What name do you like?’ Well, I didn't even have to think twice about that. Harvey's always been my favorite name. So I said to him, I said, ‘Harvey.’” And, uh, this is the interesting thing about the whole thing: He said, ‘What a coincidence. My name happens to be Harvey.’”
Photo: Courtesy of Ron Ciancutti
Befriend The Bears
See how nicely that works? If we can befriend our bears, they may all become Harveys—friendly, manageable, and willing to accommodate us. So, since there’s no avoiding the bears, we need to find ways to live with them.
I keep a list of my bears, and by keeping the list complete, I find it gives me great peace of mind. My favorite time is when I can cross a bear off the list; it is such a relief! And by making it a physical act, I get some real satisfaction from it. My list is all-inclusive and may look something like this:
Still due on credit card—$750
Anniversary coming up November 3
New baseball cleats for Nicholas (grandson)
Mother’s Day: Mom, Mom-in-law, wife, daughters, sisters
New article due to PRB by the 15th
Oil change, her car; brake job, my car
Prescription renewals.
Again, I have it all written on a legal pad, and I end each day at my desk crossing off the things that are done and writing the things I must not forget. I can honestly say this habit gives my mind great rest as I head off to sleep. Now and then I look back at the old pads where everything has been scratched off, and it reminds me that I have come through some very difficult times. Yet, seeing they are in the past and I’m still here, writing and reading away, it gives me great confidence about my will and skill to survive. See, the bears serve many purposes; we just need to engage them.
A particular section I was re-reading in the list included a number of lines that referred to doctor visits and tests for my wife. I remember that period very well. Our youngest was around 5 or 6 years old, and my wife appeared to be facing a life-threatening illness. I can tell by the tone of those entries that tensions were high. But time passed and she came through everything just fine. I smiled when I saw the line, “Doc says she’s gonna be fine. Make reservations for a celebration weekend.” I smiled even wider when I read the next reminder bear: “Remember the important stuff and be grateful for the gifts I already have.
Ron Ciancutti worked in the parks and recreation industry since he was 16 years old, covering everything from maintenance, operations, engineering, surveying, park management, design, planning, recreation, and finance. He is now retired. He holds a B.S. in Business from Bowling Green State University and an M.B.A. from Baldwin Wallace University. He is not on Facebook, but he can be reached at ron@northstarpubs.com.