Column: If a resolution is in order, it should include kindness

Published 12:00 am Thursday, January 3, 2002

My father lacked two months of being 93 years old, when he departed this plane of existence.

Thursday, January 03, 2002

My father lacked two months of being 93 years old, when he departed this plane of existence. To the last, though, he could recite in Latin large portions of Julius Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic Wars.

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I, too, encouraged these in high school during my second year of Latin, but with nothing of my father’s enthusiasm. My sympathies lay entirely with the Gauls. My Latin teacher, old enough to make her girlish crush on Caeser seem downright unnatural to me, referred to them as &uot;trouble makers.&uot;

This was at the time when our history class was involved in the intricacies of World War I. And I risked alienating my Latin teacher permanently by observing that I didn’t see a whole lot of difference between Caeser and Kaiser Wilhelm.

For the record, I still don’t. I do remember that the whole of Gaul was divided into three parts, though it doesn’t seem to matter to me. Still that’s one of the three bits of information I brought away from my two years study of Latin. One of the three was an ability to sing &uot;Row, Row, Row Your Boat,&uot; in Latin. No one ever asked me to do it more than once. With the passing of years, I’ve grown a little unsure of pronunciation, too.

The third thing I remember, and to me the most important, is that the month of January takes its name from Janus, the old Roman god of doors and fences. Janus is usually pictured having two faces, one looking forward into the future, the other peering backward into the past.

The idea of Janus sort of appeals to me. I have been keeping a diary since I was 12 years old, sometimes faithfully, sometimes with more left out than recorded. This year I didn’t miss a day. However slipshod I’ve been, re-reading entries for the year is always a part of my New Year’s observance.

Looked at with the two faces even small observances gain in importance. I can regret emotion spent on thinking unkindly thoughts about such as Rush Limbaugh and others of his ilk. I can repent starting something and not finishing it. It pleases me that any comment made about a friend is positive, favorable without reservation.

I take no credit for this, however; from as early as I can remember I’ve been extremely fortunate in the people I encounter. If I could make only one resolution for the coming year, it would be to endeavor to be as good a friend to my friends as my friends have been to me.

I know there’s nothing mystical about the changing of the year on the calendar. The mistakes of the past still remain, and a change in one’s character for the better is likely to be just as difficult after Dec. 31 as before.

Still there’s something heartening about starting off with a clean slate, and like Janus looking two ways.

It’s an excellent point of view for entering a new year. I’m not much of a one for making resolutions … no, that isn’t true. I just don’t have to wait for the beginning of a new year to make resolutions. I’m full of them. With my morning prayers, a part of me is saying things like, &uot;Today I must clean the Fibber McGee closet.&uot; I probably would, too, if there were no TV, no books, no newspapers, and if I didn’t have a tendency to play solitaire.

Still I’m wholly in favor of some sort of covenant made with the year to come. I seem to lean more toward relationship with others than in improving myself.

My mother was not given to gossip. When I entered the first grade her parting words of advice were &uot;Don’t say anything bad about your new acquaintances. When you get to know them better you’ll change your mind and then you’ll be sorry for what you said.&uot;

A wonderful Quaker roommate I once had never uttered a critical word. When someone said to her, &uot;You never say anything bad about anyone,&uot; she promptly replied, &uot;I never think anything bad about anyone.&uot;

That’s my goal for the year. My only problem with it is that I’ll probably have to stop listening to TV commentators.

Love Cruikshank is an Albert Lea resident. Her column appears Thursdays.