In My Wildest Dreams?: I never imagined this inspirational Bouquet of Gifts

Introduction

Who is the first woman you ever looked up to and admired? Like many women, my answer is my mama—a strong, smart, loving woman whose opinions mattered more to me than my own for a good portion of my life. In some ways, her actions will always remain significant to me because watching her helped me to realize who I did—and didn’t—want to become. Throughout my childhood, Mama regularly spoke and taught with quotations and fables, most of which I still remember to this day. I share many of them with you and hope that she may inspire you with her positivity and zest for life.

From another viewpoint, one could say that the first two decades of my life were full of turmoil and upheaval due to Mama’s erratic moods and periods during which she was absent from our home as she traveled to find antiques to sell in her store. Although this uncertainty surely wasn’t the ideal family life one dreams of, I can now appreciate many of the motivating circumstances behind her behaviors that eluded me until much later in life. Looking back, it must have been a difficult challenge to balance motherhood (with six children) and running an antique business—all while dealing with the ups and downs of being the wife of an alcoholic. As a child it was difficult to grasp the complexities of life, to see a bigger picture. Even in the face of his addiction, Daddy was a gentle and kind-hearted man. Unfortunately he struggled with unpredictable behaviors, similar to those we experienced with Mama as well as a lack of consistency in being present in my day-to-day life. I share many stories about my relationships, including the ones with my parents, siblings, friends, children, husband and ex-husbands, to offer insight into both the challenges and gifts I’ve been blessed with and how they have shaped my life.

Looking back, it is my belief that one of the most important factors leading to my success is the attitude I embraced about these experiences that guided me on a journey to discovering my greatest desires. With all sincerity, I can say that I am living the life of my dreams. Is that because everything has always been easy, simple, and perfect? Definitely not! I’ve lived through the good, the bad, and bouts of the ugly and came out clearer and more grateful for all of the blessings bestowed upon me… regardless of how the lessons were learned. One of my greatest gifts was learning that although I appreciate all that my mama taught me, my own instincts are my most important asset.

For me, inspiration doesn’t mean we only remember or share the stories that showcase our ‘good’ sides to the world. Many times, our deepest lessons are a product of our darkest struggles. Other times, our stories of triumph may be just what’s needed to help motivate someone to reevaluate their own situation. My goal is to share the collective wisdom of a lifetime to help other women embrace their own gifts, experiences, and blessings so they can live their most passionate lives.

Without a doubt, I believe that we are all much more similar than not, regardless of our racial, ethnic, religious, or socioeconomic backgrounds. From what I’ve discovered, we all want to enjoy full lives in which we feel loved, appreciated, and successful. That may look different to each of us, but ultimately we are all driven to actualize similar needs. It is with great humility that I offer some of my life stories and how they’ve helped shape my view of success. And, to me, success means that I live my days filled predominantly with joy, gratitude, giving, sharing, and love.

So many of us walk through life wondering…who am I? Why am I here? Sadly, many people go through their entire lives without discovering their purpose. Mark Twain said, The two most important days in a person’s life are the day they were born and the day they understand why. We celebrate our birthdays, grateful for the blessings bestowed upon us, while accepting wishes for the year to come. It is my hope that we also learn to hone in on our callings, our purpose on this earth, so we can share them with the world.

Sometimes it can be hard to see our own motivations, traits, and gifts on our own. I’ve been told that I’m fearless, joyful, inspiring—and an eternal optimist. Although I’m flattered and grateful for the kind words, I think we all possess so many qualities that we are simply unaware of…because they come so naturally to us. When we take the time to look back on our lives, it can be eye-opening to see all the skills and opportunities God has blessed us with. My husband, Len, loves to tell a story about how our unique perceptions lead us to view situations so differently. Two different people, the same experience… but two vastly different accounts.

Here is my recollection: It was a beautiful, sunny day and Len and I were on vacation in Cancun, Mexico. I decided to go parasailing along the beach. It was exhilarating to inhale the salt air as I climbed 300 feet behind the boat. It was magical and I felt like a kid on an amusement-park ride without a care in the world. Within moments of reaching full parasailing altitude, the boat began to slow and then stopped. This caused me to start descending and subsequently glide toward a group of high-rise buildings that lined the beach. As I was coming to grips with my predicament, I noticed the open balconies on the buildings and realized they were under construction. It crossed my mind that I could climb onto one of them, if necessary. It was only a fleeting thought, because I had faith that the ride would continue as planned and I would land safely on the beach. Which it did. The rest of my ride was so much fun and when I returned to the beach, I couldn’t wait to find Len and share with him how spectacular it was.

When I saw him, he looked worried sick as he hugged me with a sigh of relief. He said almost breathlessly, Oh my God, Debbie that was awful! You almost crashed! I thought you were going to hit that building and it scared me so much to think what would’ve happened to you. He was so distraught, and just beginning to calm down because my feet were on the ground again. There had been no question in his mind that my parasailing adventure was a horrible experience that he never wanted to see again. In my mind, it was an exciting and energizing ride that I would do again in a minute.

What was the difference in our experience? Perspective. Although it never crossed my mind until much later in life, it has always been in my nature to be fearless, optimistic, and full of faith that everything would turn out just fine. I never entertained an alternative scenario… until Len pointed it out to me.

It is my hope that by taking off my makeup (so to speak) and allowing you to see inside my private memories, you may be inspired to reach for the stars. I share the lessons I’ve learned to offer you some clarity and insight into some of the struggles and challenges you may be facing. Not because I know everything, but simply because I believe that, as women, sharing with one another is the greatest gift we have to give. I offer you my bouquet of gifts with the hope that you may celebrate yours, never settling until you are living the life of your dreams.

As I sit here today, I can say without hesitation that my heart is full. Never in my wildest dreams...did I ever imagine the bouquet of gifts that continually inspires me.

Digging Through Despair

One cold winter morning, when I was just eight years old, I awoke to the sound of Mama yelling—louder than normal. She was a stern woman and definitely the boss in our house. Daddy was away most of the time, out working on an oil rig off the coast of Texas, but on this day he was home. And from the words Mama was using, I knew he’d broken the rules again.

Drinking wasn’t allowed in our house, although I didn’t understand much about that at the time. Mama screamed, You know you can’t do that in this house. I’d heard that before, but what she said next made me gasp. Mama screamed, I’m going to kill you. Her enraged tone of voice told me she meant it, I was sure. Peeking around the corner of the wall into the kitchen, I watched as Mama grabbed a wine bottle and smashed it against the edge of the sink. Red droplets flew through the air, spraying the countertops and floor. Brandishing the jagged edge of the bottle toward him, she screamed again, I’m going to kill you. I’ve had enough of your drinking!

When Daddy drank, it seemed he couldn’t stop until he was so sick he could barely move. Slumped over in a chair at our round, wooden, claw-foot pedestal table, you would have never known he was broad-shouldered and 6′4″ tall. He was talking, but his words were all slurring together. Immediately, I ran in and put myself in front of him, pleading with Mama, Please don’t kill my daddy. Please don’t kill my daddy.

Later on, after Daddy sobered up, he said to me, That was mighty brave of you, my young but courageous girl. As a young girl, there were many times when it felt like I had to watch after my father, to protect him when he messed up. I didn’t understand how drinking affected people or anything at that time, I just knew I didn’t want Mama yelling—or threatening to kill him. And for a while things would go back to normal. Daddy went off to rehab and would come home as the attentive husband and father we all knew and loved. When he was sober, he was a wonderful man. I can still see his life-sized likeness of John Wayne beside his brown Lazy-boy® chair in front of the television. We’d watch all of John Wayne’s movies gathered around the fireplace in our living room and sipping hot Dr. Pepper with lemon. Although most of the time he was off working as a superintendent on a barge, drilling for oil for Brown and Root, we all have quite a few memories of laughing and joking with him in that room.

This was the first, but sadly, not the last time I put myself between Mama and Daddy. On another occasion, he was so drunk I guess he didn’t even make it inside the house. I’m not sure how long he’d been passed out on the front lawn. They were arguing again and Mama began screaming, I’m going to kill you.

Again, the rebel in me took over and without a second thought I tore off outside. Mama was backing the car out of the garage and driving into the yard toward Daddy. Running in front of her, I threw myself across him and starting yelling, Oh Mama, you won’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.

Through the open car window she said, No, I wouldn’t kill you Debbie, but you need to move.

I said adamantly, Well, I won’t move because you can’t kill my daddy either!

Eventually, she pulled the car back into the garage and went back into the house. After each incident, no one spoke about it again. I was number five of us six kids, and it seemed strange that no one besides me was seen or heard during those altercations. I’m not quite sure where they were. Probably hiding. Later in life I asked one of my sisters, Where in the world were y’all when I did all of those brave rebel acts to save our father?

She said, "Well, we were watching, but we were hiding under the bed. But you know, we were watching to make sure you were okay."

Mama was strict, but we didn’t live in fear of her. If we messed up she would slap us across the room, but never with enough force to do more than make her point. It was only Daddy’s drinking that made her so livid. And, gratefully, none of these incidents ever escalated beyond threats. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me to stop and think before putting myself between them, probably because there just wasn’t time for any trepidation on my part. Knowing in my heart that she would never harm me, it didn’t scare me to protect him. I was pretty sure she would hurt him and I couldn’t bear to watch that happen.

Sometimes as children, we are fearless and react without thinking about the consequences. Looking back, through the eyes of an adult who has been both a parent and a business leader, it occurs to me that I might have approached the situation differently. Looking for alternatives…without making myself susceptible to being involved in violence.

Even though I have infinitely more happy memories than sad ones, those family confrontations were pretty traumatic. Throughout my childhood, whenever Daddy was home, there was always a tiny hint of apprehension in the back of my mind that he might come home drunk and Mama would eventually kill him. As a result, part of me grew up pretty fast, which may have been a catalyst to getting married and having a baby at just 17 years old. There was always a part of me searching for that calm and predictable family life. Although she didn’t say this in the context of the incidents with my dad, my mama always said… what doesn’t kill you makes you