A Four Second Transformation – Ogre to Prince

Did you every have an impression of someone until suddenly, in a matter of a few seconds that impression took a 180 degree turnabout? You thought you had a person nailed and then suddenly without warning it happened. This is my story of a four second transformation that became a turning point for me.

Being a teenager with a strict father had a way of creating a short memory. All the things my dad did for me as a child disappeared from my memory as I struggled with his strict ways in my teenage years. When in retrospect I reflected on the fact that I saw him in the extreme, as an ogre, I became sad and filled with regret. To my immature and in-the-moment mind, all I saw was a strong, strict and limiting father. My mother on the other hand was understanding and tried to balance dad’s stern and unwavering ways.

My mother and I had a very close relationship forged in my very early years. Unlike my dad I never forgot her kindness and loving ways when I was a teenager.

When I was about sixteen, my brother and I saw my mother as our coach. In fact we teased her at times with that nickname. We could say things to her we could never think of saying to our dad. Mother gently and wisely coached us in many situations typical teenagers experience. She had a special way of getting us to agree with whatever she said, while in contrast, we resisted most of our father’s words. Thankfully, the wisdom hidden in Dad’s counsel, eventually found its way into our realization.

One time my mother had to have a hemorrhoid operation. In those days it was one of the most painful surgeries one could experience. The day after the surgery Mother was recovering in the hospital. Dad, Roy and I had dinner together in our small kitchen. About to finish the meal, Dad announced to Roy and me that he was going to visit our mother in the hospital. We responded expressing our desire to go too. Dad resisted but we pressed him until he gave in.

Dad drove to Passaic General Hospital and parked on the street behind the hospital. The parking lot in front of the hospital had very limited parking space so it was out of the question to even think of parking there. The path to the hospital from the street where we were parked was comprised of large flights of steep wooden stairs. The stairs were serpentine as they twisted and turned up the steep hill.

Dad ordered us to wait fifteen minutes before we headed up the stairs. He said he needed “time to get mother prepared for our visit.” We wondered what he was talking about, getting mother “prepared” for us.

Obediently we waited and firmed up our plan for the visit. It was a brash plan to enter our mother’s room and ask her, “Hi Mother, how’s your ass?”

Being teenagers we didn’t give a thought as to how that would be received by either of our parents, we just thought it would be “cool.”

When fifteen minutes had passed, Roy and I got out of the car, locked it and headed up the steps. It seemed like forever to reach the top. Like everyone else climbing those stairs we were out of breath when we reached the top and began the short walk to the hospital entry.

Roy and I found our way to our mother’s hospital room, paused outside for a few minutes to compose ourselves and marched in with an air of arrogance.

A few steps into the room and we stopped dead in our tracks. One look at my mother’s face and I froze in a state of utter shock. The fact that she was in such excruciating pain shocked me into total paralysis. I felt as if I had a watermelon in my throat, making it impossible for me to utter a single word. I wanted to say something to comfort her, but it was simply impossible for me to speak.

After a few seconds, I saw Dad sitting at the edge of the bed, Mother’s hand in his as he gently stroked her forehead with his other hand. He was comforting my mother. Instantly, my father changed from an ogre to a prince as I realized he did what I could not do, comfort Mother in her moment of need and pain.

I felt so inadequate and useless in the face of the man who loved Mother with such gentle strength. Without a word, the scene put my arrogant teenage attitude into its proper place. The respect I had lost for my dad returned in that instant. Life in the family would never be the same as this big-time turning point changed the course of my attitude forever.

Turning Point

At times it takes a powerful traumatic emotional experience to create a turning point for us. We must understand that it may take time for the turning point’s lesson to reveal its profoundness. Sometimes though, it can hit home instantaneously. Whatever course the turning point may take, it behooves us to cherish them and the treasure they have the potential to be.

I have found that looking back and recounting my turning points, they can help others to get past misunderstandings such as I had for my dad when I was an impetuous teenager. Fortunate for me and my brother, we saw the truth of his wisdom rather quickly and that became a treasure to our benefit.

COPYRIGHT © 2014 ALLAN EDWARD MUSTERER, All Rights Reserved

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