Today I feel compelled to tell a little story about peace.

My brother and I were two of the most fortunate people in the world. We were raised by two parents who balanced each other in a way that demonstrated acceptance and love that we have been able to carry with us throughout out lives, even though they were both taken from us way too early.

I have spoken about my mother's outrageous personality in my blogs posts on Women on the Verge. Her anger, her generosity, her ability to live out loud - sometimes very loud. However, one thing that I have not spoken about is my father.

When my father passed away in 2004, neither my brother or I were able to speak at his services. We sat for more than 2 and a half hours as one person after another got up and spoke, sang and played the guitar in tribute to him and what he meant to them in their lives. By trade, he was an alternative health practitioner. He believed in the unseen, he believed in miracles and he spread this belief is his daily actions. He was quirky, he was handsome and most of all, he was able to laugh at himself.

I am not sure why neither my brother or I could speak at my father's funeral services, other than the fact, no one would believe our story. We were raised most of our lives by a man who never once raised his voice to us. He never hit us. He never put us down. He was a quiet, smiling soul who could make non-believers believe, just by being in his presence.

He was not as easily accepted in the U.S., but when he traveled - throughout Mexico, South America, Asia and parts of Europe, people would stand in line to be treated by him. He would sometimes see as many as 60 patients in a day - without complaint.

So why do I bring him up today? I am inspired by our "Angry Woman Quiet Woman?" discussion to showcase, yes we can live in quiet peace - for our whole lives. Yes, we can listen to our hearts and smile. Yes we can have our battles (my father had a life long battle with the FDA), but we don't have to let them eat us alive. We can let LOVE be our guide and pray to be shown how to deal with something that bothers us in an effective manner, that will benefit us all.

I know this sounds like I am in "La-La Land.", and perhaps that is part of the reason that I don't bring up my father. I run the risk of facing non-believers, but believe me. I have seen peace. I have known peace. I have lived peace.

I have to laugh to myself as I listen to myself, because, even though I had a teacher living in my own home, a teacher who was a parent, I still sometimes haven't gotten it. I still have to remind myself to step back from a situation and look at the objective. Pray for direction, before addressing the issue. For goodness sake, I grew up with a father who meditated daily - sometimes for hours at a time... yet I still needed to be taught how to meditate.

And, how was the relationship between my fiery mother and peaceful father? I witnessed ONE argument that I remember in my life between them. My father was charmed by my mother's fire. And that was a comfort to her - to be accepted and loved for who she was. When I close my eyes to remember my parents, I hear my mother's voice and my father's laughter. True gifts.

Signed,

Still Learning...

Ana Lewis
founder
WomenontheVerge.net

Note: The photo is of my father and my daughter.