With Great Power

It's been stinking, flipping cold in Kansas City for the last week and a half. We had two major snowstorms in less than a week ... major snowstorms that dumped a foot or so of snow with each round. And all it takes is cold weather and snow to remind me that one of the things I love most about the building where I work is the wood-burning fireplace. I love so many things about that fireplace ... the crackle of the wood when it's burning, the hearth where people often sit or stand to warm themselves, the conversations that take place in front of the roaring fire ... I truly love that fireplace. I'm not really sure how it happened, but not long after we moved into the building, the fireplace became "my thing" ... I build the fires ... I clean out the ashes ... I keep the fire burning during the day ... the fireplace is definitely my thing. For all the things I do related to the fireplace, however, there is one task that I particularly enjoy doing. I love, love, love to take the red cart to the area under the stairs where the wood is stored, fill it up, push the cart into the elevator to take me upstairs, and unload the wood into the cubby behind the fireplace. Yep, I love the days when I get to haul firewood ... I love those days because the act of loading and unloading the firewood always brings with it sweet memories of my dad.

Toward the end of summer each year, Daddy would place an axe, a chainsaw and a sledge hammer in the back of his pickup truck and say, "Come on, Sam, let's go get us some firewood." I can close my eyes and picture those days riding with Daddy in his old green truck ... his worn and weathered hands gripping the steering wheel ... the twinkle in his eyes as he talked about his childhood ... the smile that crossed his face when he thanked me for coming along to help him. I can close my eyes and picture Daddy on those firewood-cutting days, days that we spent together, just Daddy and I. For all the things I remember so well about those days when Daddy and I would set out on our annual firewood adventures, there is one memory that is as real to me as if it happened just yesterday ... when Daddy would wedge a wood splitter into the large pieces of the trunk of a tree, heft his sledge hammer over his shoulder, swing with all his might and slam the hammer down on the splitter. I remember the sound of the steel hammer against the steel of the splitter, and I remember what Daddy would say every single time he struck the splitter. "With great power, Sam, comes great responsibility. Remember that, girl ... with great power comes great responsibility."

My dad was a tall man, and he was physically strong, too. In fact, when I was young, I was convinced there was not a person on earth who was stronger than Daddy. Here's the thing, though ... it wasn't until I got older that I realized my dad's physical strength paled in comparison to his inner strength. And I believe it's only been in recent months that I have come to fully understand the importance of the words Daddy spoke each time he swung his sledge hammer. He wasn't talking about being careful with the hammer or respecting the strength of each swing ... Daddy was talking about a whole different type of power ... a whole different type of power and a whole different type of responsibility. He was teaching me a lesson on those firewood-cutting days, a lesson too big for me to understand at that stage of my life. But I surely do understand it now ... I surely do.

I'm old enough that I've experienced a pretty big chunk of life, and I'm keenly aware that should I live to be 100 years old, I'm more than halfway done with my life. And the odds are great that I won't ever see my 100th birthday, which means I'm probably way more than halfway done. And the older I get, I'm much more aware that power and responsibility should go hand-in-hand, that those who are in positions of power should respect and honor the outcome of their actions. I've lived long enough to have seen powerful men and women go above and beyond the duties of their positions because they feel such a great sense of responsibility to others, but I've also lived long enough to have seen powerful men and women who fall from power because they couldn't or wouldn't set the bar of responsibility as high as they should have.

I've been thinking a lot about the whole power and responsibility thing lately ... responsibility to God, to my children and my family, to my friends, to my fellow man. I've been thinking a lot about the responsibility that comes with the words I write in this blog each day ... the responsibility that accompanies the power of written or spoken words. I've gotten a lot of messages about the video, and I've been thinking a lot about the responsibility I feel to help others who are struggling to accept themselves or fight their way out of the darkness of depression.

"With great power, Sam, comes great responsibility. Remember that, girl ... with great power comes great responsibility." I'll remember, Daddy ... I promise I'll remember.