ONCE THERE WAS A WAY
TO GET BACK HOME...
ONCE THERE WAS A WAY
TO GET BACK HOME!
The Beatles, Abbey Road
There are times when we realize we’ve lost our way in the dense, confusing undergrowth of life. A time when more search would be just too excruciatingly painful.
A time when we realize the only thing to do is to retrace our steps... and go back to our ROOTS...
This is a wonderfully sensitive, intelligent book.
THIS girl knows where she’s going - now that she’s seen her way through the storm - and is not afraid now to be sensibly old-fashioned in her OWN way:
“Memories took on a new poignancy as I watched Dad navigate life with Alzheimer’s and begin the same transformation in himself that St. Thérèse had seen in her father.
”The signs were subtle at first: keener sensitivity to the suffering of others, more comments about God’s love and less of others’ faults, a greater humility that allowed him to accept help with gratitude rather than pique.
“Alzheimer’s could not steal Dad’s joy.”
And you know what? The crisis of her Dad’s ordeal helped bring Ms Campbell back to her spiritual roots - and, thank Heaven, back to her senses.
Like me, she had gone away to an out-of-town university to prepare her for what would turn out for her - after these early detours, some distasteful, and others grievously anxious - to be a long, fulfilling career.
And, also like me, she had run right smack dab into the brick wall of the kind of live-for-the-day student self-abandonment that flourished on liberal arts campuses back then. Her fellow students wanted kicks; she wanted something enduring and substantial.
Her friends may have found new varieties of fun - but their attitude was becoming hard, thoughtless and uncaring. C.S. Lewis would say that like old fruit, they had ‘turned.’ And once you turn, it’s a long way back home.
And she was becoming obdurate.
Yet her dear Dad’s life had always flowed like a pristinely clear, running brook!
But Ms Campbell still had her doting parents - and her dear father, who, though failing, was now more full of love than ever.
Because his roots were in his Faith.
He had learned young, in his own way, that the etymological roots of the biblical word, HOLY, mean to be SET APART from the Crowd.
That’s no sin, you know. It’s not the living end to be rejected socially. But at first it’s no fun, either!
NO.
But it’s the beginning of something NEW.
For you’ll never RISE ABOVE (transcend) the Storm unless you’re SET APART! On your own... and FREE.
It’s the ONLY way you’ll find a Kindred Spirit in this life, too. For now it HURTS. But later, as for this author, it will bring fulfillment.
So in being set apart from the in-set, her Dad found a lifelong place of refuge from Life’s howling rages.
He found Peace.
And Ms Campbell? She now had the necessary COURAGE to face life’s hard knocks. As they must come to us all. But NOW her life had a FOUNDATION.
So Ms Campbell put her own roots down again - in the faith of her father.
She started to read the REAL Lives of the Saints - unedited stories of overcoming enormous hardships on the long road to ultimate Peace - with no sugar-coating.
And this is the story of how those stories got through her pain as life became tough for her (as it had for her Dad) - and on up the steep road to success!
***
My own dear Dad is now nearly 99.
He has lost most of his strength and agility - but he HASN’T lost his battle with Dementia.
He is stil fighting its onslaught.
What’s more, as time passes, he is more at peace, too. He has found a tranquility and gentleness of spirit that all his education and professional stature could not have given him.
They say youth is wasted on the young. When old age is not wasted on the old, it’s even rarer.
But for some elderly people, their Golden Years give them the inestimable gift of Grace.
And their final years are not wasted.
The author’s dad, though, is no longer with her.
But just like my own Dad is finding, he found at the end of his life there comes - for the few who have believed - the Crown of Life.
It’s called Faith.