As a kid glued to the TV in my grandparents’ living room, I relished every magical visit to the Land of Make Believe with Mr. Rogers. His gift and message — you are loved, just as you are — endures. We need it more than ever. With love stories, I’ll do my small part here to spread it.
A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood — the new movie about Fred Rogers and his vision to create a quality, healthful TV show for children — is packed with gems of wisdom and great life advice. It’s well worth your time.
I’m always curious after seeing a bio-pic about what’s true and what’s a fictional product of movie-making, so I’ve been reading up and discovering wonderful nuggets of inspiration for my grown-up life and work.
Some quick background:
In the movie, a cynical magazine writer is assigned to write a piece about Mr. Rogers for an Esquire magazine issue on heroes. (True.) Fred Rogers took a personal interest in the writer — the relationship at the heart of the movie. (True.) Those interviews led to a rich, four-year friendship until Rogers died in 2002. (All true.) The writer-character’s name in the movie (Lloyd Vogel) and back-story on his personal crises are both fictionalized.
Tom Junod, the real-life writer, penned a gorgeous piece in this month’s issue of The Atlantic.
Junod tied this story to our times. What would Fred Rogers make of our times? A worthwhile read.
Here’s the gem from Junod’s story that struck me this week, as I was drafting this little post about writing love stories.
Junod once told Fred Rogers about seeing five motorists in Atlanta stop their cars to help an old, big snapping turtle safely cross a highway exit ramp. Fred Rogers asked if he would be writing about it.
No, Junod said, but asked Fred Rogers why he thought it would be a good story:
“Because whenever people come together to help either another person or another creature, something has happened, and everyone wants to know about it—because we all long to know that there’s a graciousness at the heart of creation.”
~ Fred Rogers
Love Stories
Holy guacamole. THAT gave me an A-Ha, validating moment.
I write love stories, mostly for my ThanksgivinginFebruary.com blog. That’s my most joyful work and “passion project.”
That real-life, big family turkey dinner in the middle of February almost 10 years ago led to my obsession with sharing real stories from my real life.
Why? Because I experienced something remarkable that February night and I’m wired to share it. That Mr. Rogers quote brought me a big step closer to understanding it.
You may wonder: What the heck do turtles and exit ramps have to do with roasted turkey, my crazy family and a snowy winter evening?
Love. Sweet. Love.
Graciousness over Pain
As my father lay unconscious, I believed there was some risk that one of his ex-wives or girlfriends could harm him. Not necessarily that any one of those women, nor that I, were capable of actually unplugging him from the ventilator. But that the stress of one’s presence — or an ugly cat fight between us — could perhaps trigger his cardiac arrest. Or something equally awful.
I understood their anger, even as I stayed close to protect him. I asked his ex-wives to stay out of his room, and loudly joked about this to reassure my dad, just in case he could hear us.
He had deeply hurt and betrayed all of us. I had witnessed these women’s pain. As his daughter, I shared their pain.
None of those dark products of my imagination actually happened.
Instead, my dad’s ex-wives — my mother and stepmother — his daughters and long-time girlfriend all beautifully worked together to help him survive and recover. Then we celebrated with a big turkey dinner in the middle of February.
Each of these women acted out of graciousness, kindness and love. They became the heroes of our family story.
The “graciousness at the heart of creation” as Fred Rogers put it to Tom Junod, was a bright, shining light in my family that night.
I witnessed my mom, stepmother and Stephanie all working together in Stephanie’s small kitchen, preparing a meal for our family. No catfights. The impossible became possible.
That experience changed our whole family for the better. It changed our dad. It changed me, helped heal me. That’s my truth.
And since we all long to know about that graciousness, as Fred Rogers’ words confirm, I’ll keep sharing this and lots of other love stories.
Love at the Core
I started writing about it, almost immediately. I’ve been a writer since I was a kid, but telling this story was my first real attempt at writing about my own life instead of the lives of other people, or scientific findings, politics, fishing communities, small town government, environmental issues or business trends.
These ThanksgivinginFebruary.com stories explore many themes: Gratitude, family, gathering, friends, pain, turkey, estrangement, apple pie, step-mom-hood, grief, divorce, making peace as we pass the dinner rolls and sweet butter, falling in love, making a new family.
Failing to make peace and finding hope to try again later. All of that stuff of life.
Yet — love is at their core. Love is their essential fiber, and stitches them together.
‘If it’s about love …’
Long ago, as I was just starting this work, I was on a bus trip in Montana, chatting with a group of writers and their spouses about my urge to write about my experience of my family healing over a turkey dinner.
“Does anybody care?” I asked. “Would anybody read that story?”
A woman answered me: “I would,” she said. “I’d read it if it was about love.”
I’ve never seen her again. I don’t remember her name. Just this: “I’d read it if it was about love.”
‘You are loved, just the way you are.’
To be clear: I’m not Fred Rogers. For one thing, I’m not as kind (but I’m working on it). I don’t have his vision and I talk way too fast to children. (I’m working on that, too.)
But I do believe in my bones that no one else has my stories and can tell them the way I can, because I had the good fortune to grow up knowing I was loved.
And that I can be brave, tell my stories and keep working to share the most important message of all: You are loved, just as you are.
This is true. Mr. Rogers told me on TV.
In these times, we face darkness on our planet, in our country and in our families. As I write, news alerts pop up on my phone about another shooting, today in Pensacola. I can’t pretend all of that way, nor can I fix it.
I can pray. I can speak. I can vote. I look for and tell love stories. They surround us.
We can love each other through the darkness. One gracious moment at a time. One friend, one neighbor helping an imperiled turtle, wounded soul and broken family.
One love story at a time.
~~~
The world needs love stories. To share mine with you is a great joy, honor and privilege.
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