Tag Archives: Michaeal Armijo

The Carpenter

By Michael Armijo

I received an email a while back that has always resonated with me.  I find myself thinking about it from time to time, as the words it contained often remind me to work hard and be proud of what I’ve accomplished.  It has encouraged me to continue to keep my heart within my work, as you never know what life will bring you. It is good advice, no matter who you are or what you do, and I share it with you now.

The Carpenter:  An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer of his plans to leave the house-building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife and extended family.  He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by.

The employer, who was sorry to see his good worker go, asked if he would build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end a dedicated career.

When the carpenter finished his work the employer came to inspect the house. He handed the front-door key to the carpenter. “This is your house,” he said, “my gift to you for all of your hard work and dedication.”

The carpenter was shocked; what a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently.

So it is with us. We build our lives, a day at a time, often putting less than our best into the building. Then with a shock we realize we have to live in the house we’ve built. If we could do it over, we’d do it much differently. But we cannot go back.

You are the carpenter. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. “Life is a do-it-yourself project,” someone once said. Your attitudes and the choices you make today, build the “house” you live in tomorrow. Build wisely, and remember:  Work like you don’t need the money. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like no one is watching. Enjoy life like it’s your last day on Earth.

 

Proud of Myself

By Michael Armijo

I remember closing my eyes, trying my hardest to embrace the way I felt. I wanted to burn into my memory the feeling of enchantment that overwhelmed me. I wanted the way I felt that evening to last a lifetime.

It wasn’t just dinner and cocktails with some co-workers. It wasn’t just a significant evening for someone special, a celebration of achievement. The evening meant more to me than it did to the person being honored. It was an evening in which I was proud to be included.

With my wife in my arms, I memorized the melody of the song as we slowly moved over the shiny, wooden dance floor.  A glance out of the window provided a beautiful view of the city.  A look around the room at people I respected and admired filled me with tremendous pride.  I will never forget how it felt to be present and included that night.

When I tried to recall the last time I felt this way, it took me back to the 7th Grade. I remember failing all my classes and my teacher, Miss Contreras, helped to change my perspective.  She told me that I deserved to be number one; that I deserved to be the best and to feel proud of myself.  What she said worked because I found the path that led me to becoming Student of the Year, along with top grades and a place on the honor roll.

Unfortunately, that feeling was taken from me. Abuse and neglect took those happy moments from my life and traded them for sadness and pain.

Over the years, I’ve worked hard to overcome those hard times and make a positive difference in the lives around me. Just as Miss Contreras did for me, I’ve tried to help people find their own path to personal worth, encouraging people to live the life of an achiever; showing people that it can be done.

Because of who I was and where I’ve been, helping others and making a positive contribution has always meant so much to me.  I’ve always dreamed of feeling the satisfaction of making a difference – without conditions or ulterior motives.  I’ve waited for the day that I knew my accomplishments were worthy of my intentions.

And that evening – an evening I will forever hold dear in my heart – I stood there with peers of mine whom I respected, with the woman I’ve loved for nearly 30 years, and I felt proud of my life.  With a tear in my eye, I realized I have made a difference in the lives around me.

And just as I felt when I won that 7th Grade Student of the Year award, I had earned a feeling that no one could ever take from me. I found the path to fulfillment for what I’ve done with my life, and realized it was okay to feel proud of myself.

I Know You’re Proud

By Michael Armijo

You know, I never really called him daddy. My sister did, and I always envied how he brought that up so many times. But now I can say, “I miss my daddy.” When he died something inside me died. I think it was the first time I realized that I was really on my own. I always felt that dad would “take me in” had I ever made a major mistake in life, had I lost everything and had no place to go. But that feeling is gone, I no longer have a ‘safety net’ in my life. He’s not there to “take me in” anymore. At that time I realized that there was no turning back.

I do miss him, despite the anger he carried and conveyed to me. But what I miss is his strength; and later, his encouragement. He always told me how he admired the way I took on the world if I had a dream. He always said I was so strong to make hard decisions and take action. He loved to watch me work. And he loved working with me. The funny thing is, now that he’s gone I don’t make hard decisions anymore. I don’t take action like I used to. Maybe I was showing off to daddy, trying to be the star above the other kids in our family. But my dad meant so much to all of us, we all tried so hard to be number one in our daddy’s eyes. And fortunately, we all got our turn to be number one. But I almost didn’t get my turn, being the youngest. I got my turn at the end of his life. Had I not confronted him five years before he died, had I not tried to get my turn at being the number one child, I never would’ve received my fifteen minutes of ‘family fame.’

In retrospect, our family never really communicated. I think this is why it took me so long to really get to know my father. It’s kind of strange, we really didn’t know what was deep inside daddy, but we needed to be recognized by him. It meant so much to us to be recognized by someone we often felt was a stranger. And I know that I kept many things to myself, holding many memories prisoner in my mind, and some in my heart, that I never shared with him. He did teach us that we had the ability to do whatever we wanted, but he never really taught us how to communicate. I believe we need clarity; this assures us of where we stand within our lives. We would then teach our children to understand the importance of expression, the importance of how to express our feelings.

When I expressed how I felt to my father, I found out why he treated us the way he did. When we discussed his life and what happened to him when he was a child, the abuse and the neglect he endured (and we ultimately inherited), we understood, together, what happened to him. And what happened to us. But we forgave and we healed. I became more of a complete person; I closed those rough chapters in my life. This is why I believe in the importance of the ‘healing power of expression.’

Although my dad and I became close friends and I got to know him on a personal level, there is something that I always wished he would’ve said to me, something I waited all my life to hear but never did. Something I know he died with, in his heart, but he never verbally gave to me. The five simple words, “I’m so proud of you.” That’s all I ever wanted to hear from my daddy, that’s the one thing that will always be a void at the corner of my soul.

I also realized something that I never thought of: I never told my dad that I was proud of him, either. I am left to wonder if he carried the same disappointment in his life, as I did with mine. But today, what keeps me going is the hope that he’s looking down upon me each day, watching what I do and how my time is being spent. And I believe that he can’t hear what I say, but instead, he can see what’s truly deep within my heart. And as the sun shines warm rays upon me and as the wind whispers through the trees, I can lift my head high and close my eyes and feel his joyous heart whisper that he is so very proud of me; and my heart silently whispers back, that I, too, am very proud of him.