I Didn’t Do It My Way (standard:humor, 903 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Oct 24 2021	Views/Reads: 938/635	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Some of my happiest times in life are when I’m not doing anything my way. Giving someone else the privilege of doing it their way is a very satisfying thing.

I don't think I've learned very much during my life. I just bounce from
day to day and take what comes. 

The one thing I did learn as I look back is, for the most part, I didn't
do it my way. 

Remember Frank Sinatra and his song, “I Did It My Way?” I would have
liked to ask him, how's that been working for you? 

Whenever we do everything our way, there is a consequence. 

You know what they say that for every action, there is a consequence. By
the time the consequence hits you in the face, it's too late to make 
any changes. 

When I ever did something “my way,” it never really worked out. 

The other day as I was meditating on this, I thought of how smart I was
when I was a teenager. I knew everything; all you had to do was ask me. 
Sometimes you didn't even have to ask. I was ready to give my opinion 
at any time. 

If only I were a smart as I thought I was when I was a teenager,
everything would be gloriously wonderful. The problem is, I'm not. 

I have learned that I don't have to have everything my way. That was the
first thing I learned as a husband. If I get everything my way, 
somebody in the house is not happy. 

As long as I have been with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, she
is the only one I know that gets things done her way. Not in a bullying 
manner, she just seems to know the right thing to do at the right time. 


I, on the other hand, cannot even tell time. 

Thinking along this line, a memory flashed back. I remember rushing my
wife to the hospital to deliver our first baby. I'm not sure who was 
more nervous, the mother or the expected father. 

We got there, and she was escorted back to the delivery room where they
would deliver the baby. I paced the lobby, not knowing exactly what I 
should be doing. 

Several hours went by, and I heard nothing concerning the birth of our
baby. If I only had my way, I would go back there and see for myself. 

Just then, the nurse that took my wife back into the delivery room came
out, and I approached her and said, “Can I go and see my wife and baby 
now?” 

After all, I was the father, and I was paying the bill for this baby. 

The nurse, who looked like she had just gone through World War II,
glared at me and, with a very rough voice, said, “No, you're not going 
back there. After all, you're the one that's responsible for all of 
this.” 

I did not know what she meant or what she was talking about? 

There was not anything I could do but continue waiting. As I sat in the
waiting room, I thought, she ought to be very, very, very glad that I 
was not doing it my way. My way would have been very nasty and ugly for 
her. 

I let that nurse do it her way because she was not significant in my
life. For me to let her have it her way did not in any way harm me. I 
just had to wait a little longer. 

Finally, I had the opportunity to go back and see my wife and our first
baby. That took away all my memories, at the time, of that nasty nurse 
who wanted to do everything her way. 

I was glad I didn't do it my way. 



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