Don't go to Albuquerque

Don’t go to Albuquerque

We have a COLE family story- a tradition of asking- “Hey if we say the prayer without you, will you go to Albuquerque?”  It’s been said for decades. My parents started it and we continue it in family settings as our little inside joke.  

It all started when I was a child.  We had beloved, hardly seen, cousins from Albuquerque- My Aunt Patty and Uncle Jerry’s family.  When we would finally get together with our Albuquerque cousins it was a riot. They fit right in between all of the Utah Cole cousin ages and I recall fondly going to This is the Place Monument and swimming in Grandma Butters' pool. 

  

This prayer memory started when I was 11- so 1973.  I don’t remember exactly and I’m sure my memory has morphed over time as memories do, but I recall us all kneeling down for a big family prayer one night.  We rang the bell and called and gathered, and waited and waited and most of us had knelt down in the living room. My Aunt Patty hadn’t joined us. She was still downstairs. What was taking her so long? In true Cole fashion,  we were done waiting and just said the prayer, did our "forever” hands and sent everyone to bed. Well, Aunt Patty’s feelings were hurt because we didn’t wait for her to pray and by the next morning the Albuquerque Cole’s were all bundled back into their station wagon and driving back to Albuquerque cutting our cousin time short.  Thereafter, if we went to pray and someone wasn’t there we would ask, “should we wait for you or will you go to Albuquerque if we don’t?” and we would laugh and remember. 

Now my Aunt Patty wasn’t always the easiest.  She had what I felt at the time in my teenage mind- overly righteous standards and was hard to please.  I always felt a little bad for my Uncle Jerry and her kids. But I only had a portion of the whole picture.  As I grew older I became less judgemental and more curious and compassionate. Aunt Patty grew up with an alcoholic, abusive father who her mother divorced when Patty was five.  There was a lot of stigma surrounding this in the 1940s. Patty was a convert to the church, she was playing catch up with the doctrine and even knowing primary songs and sometimes she felt less than -- I’m sure of this.  She set really high standards for herself and her children, and she was definitely a flawed human. And aren’t we all? As I would meet with her periodically throughout the next many decades I could see and feel the love she had for all of us, she listened intently and really cared about my answers and she gave herself more love as well.  

But.  

We still told the Albuquerque prayer story. Although Patty had mellowed and grown, we didn’t allow her to change.  We didn’t allow the atonement to work for her. She stayed stuck in our memories as the crazy aunt, who got her feelings hurt and went back to Albuquerque, passing judgment on all of us.   We would say,” Don’t pull an Aunt Patty.”  

My cousin Laurie came today to talk to me about this.  She was really hurt when she found out that decades later we talked about her mom like this in a joking manner- she wanted to clear the air.  I was so grateful for it. I talk a lot about getting out of judgment and into curiosity and compassion and I want to live it more and more- even with the family stories from my past.  

We judged Patty on one of her worst days and not her best. 

We judge others on their worst days and form opinions yet we want to be judged on our best.

I don’t want to be known for my worst moments, hours or days and let that be my legacy.  I want grace and understanding and so I need to give that to all others I meet past, present, and future. 

Okay, we will still tell the Albuquerque prayer story but let it be used as a warning of how important it is to include everyone and make sure that no one feels like leaving for Albuquerque is necessary , and preface it and end it with all of the awesome attributes about his wonderful, flawed woman who was just figuring it all out. 

Pulling an Aunt Patty could actually be an awesome thing.  Something that would mean I’m a good listener and I care about you.  I’m full of love and progressing in the gospel and doing the best I know-how. 

Just wanted to share