An old saying pretty much defines my life: “What we learn from history is that we don’t learn from history.”
When I was younger, I assumed that the older I got, the smarter I would get. I haven’t achieved that at this point in my life. It becomes so tedious to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
However, I hope this will change at some point in my life. I hope it changes before I die.
I was reminded of this flaw in my personality several weeks ago when Graceful Parish Teacher and I spent a little vacation time in St. Augustine. Someone had given us tickets for several nights at a bed and breakfast.
We spent the whole week just having fun. However, you should fix that. I spent the whole week reading and meditating with my eyes closed.
The other side of our relationship went to all the thrift stores in the area. He would leave right after breakfast, stop for lunch, and then spend the rest of the day until dinner time going from one thrift store to another. How he can do this for days is beyond my wildest dream.
Several times she asked me if I wanted to go with her, but I declined this kind invitation. I remember the last time I took that offer and we went from one thrift store to another. They all started to look alike after a while.
It only takes me five minutes to peruse the thrift store, while my wife takes two hours to go through every aspect of that thrift store step by step. Every thrift store in the area knows her by name by now.
I, the laziest part of the marital equation, want to stay in our room and just relax. I’m as addicted to relaxation as my wife is addicted to thrift store shopping. I’m not sure who suffers from the worst addiction.
To be honest, she has gotten a lot of wonderful deals at some of these thrift stores. Whenever we need something, she knows exactly which thrift store to go to and can haggle to the bottom. How they make money on her purchases, I don’t know.
From time to time I suffer this horrible nightmare. I wake up sweating and breathing really hard.
The nightmare is that we have opened our own thrift store. No dream can be worse than that!
I never tell her these nightmares because I don’t want to plant any ideas in her head. I lean strictly away from that idea.
Despite all this, I still haven’t been able to learn anything from history.
My wife had spent most of the day visiting these thrift stores and also buying things from these thrift stores, and had come home and had a little dinner in our room. I assumed we would be at night.
I wish I knew when to keep my mouth shut. As we were finishing our informal dinner, I said something that I now deeply regret. I said, “Wow, it sure would be nice to have one of those lap desks so I can use my computer while sitting here in bed.”
I didn’t mean this to be a point of contention, just a casual observation, that’s all.
So I went one step further. “Have you ever seen any lap desks in the thrift stores you visit?”
If there is anything I could get back in my life, this would have been one of them. I didn’t know how serious the matter was.
“I don’t know,” he said excitedly, “but I’ll go and find out okay…”
Before she could get the word “now” out, she was out the door and slamming it shut. The rest of the night she was visiting thrift stores all over the place. She was afraid, very afraid, that she would actually find one and bring it back.
I’m guessing they’re found in thrift stores somewhere. But I only said it as a passing conversation.
Four hours later, she came back and was very excited. She had found something that she had been looking for for a long time. It was a very eloquent teapot with 6 cups and saucers.
“Look what I found,” she said excitedly. “I’ve been looking for this and we can use it in our next lady’s tea.” According to her, this tea set matches the one she had at home. She was so excited about it.
He wouldn’t say anything, but I think he forgot why he went to thrift stores in the first place. Now I’ve learned something from the story, and that’s not to remind her of the portable desk she was looking for. To this day, I have never mentioned it.
I like what the wise old man said in the Bible: “A time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7).
There is a time to “keep quiet” and he is a wise man who knows when. Maybe that’s why people say that silence is golden.
