Mike, you're trying to do too much!

In life, it is a wonderful blessing to have special memories of time spent with grandparents, whether it be the grandparents we’re born with, or the ones we find.  Here's one of several life impactful memories that I cherish with my “found” grandparents that I’ve reflected on recently. 

My Grandpa Hubbard was a Master Bricklayer who’s primary residence was our hometown of Jackson, MS. As much as he enjoyed working locally, his skills commanded higher wages in Chicago, so he traveled there during the warmer months to continue practicing his trade. He offset living expenses by staying at the home of one of his daughters and her family.

During the months he was away, my older siblings and I would take turns staying with his wife, my Grandma Hubbard. They lived across the street which gave us the option of having meals either at our home or hers. Both she and my Mom were excellent cooks and beautiful souls, so the choice was always an easy and a hard one. 

The major difference was that in our home, you were one of up to  eight kids depending on the year and season, but in her home, you were an only child. 

I chose to be the only child home any time one of my siblings didn't want to take their turn. I also treasured spending time with Grandma Hubbard even when Grandpa was home. 

One of my most special memories with her was made during a typical school day morning as I gathered my typical handful of school and sports gear, consisting of books, my gym bag, physical education uniform, band instrument and basketball uniform. As I exited the house she would always give me a hug and kiss on my forehead, but this particular morning, out of nowhere, I dropped my baritone horn. Thankfully, it was protected in a case. As I clung to all of my other gear while laboring to pick up my band instrument, my Grandma, with such a sweet tone said, "Mike you're trying to do too much at school". 

As I laughed, recognizing that she was telling the truth, I said “Grandma, one of my goals in life is to do too much.” She lovingly replied, “Boy, you are too much!”

Little did thirteen-year-old me standing in his Grandmother’s home realize that this theme of “doing too much” would become a thread throughout my life in all the decades to come, connecting my seventy-two-year-old self to the essence of who I was as a teen back then, becoming, and remaining both my challenge and my opportunity. 

This “doing too much” mindset has given me the ability to take on a load without feeling the weight of it. It’s less about feeling that I can do everything but more about feeling that there are very few things that I can’t do… thus my challenge and my opportunity, especially when it comes to doing for others, which is where I find my greatest joy. 

I’m driven by the gratification of “doing” as a form of care, and this mindset finds me in a constant state of productivity, while never seeing the possibility of “doing too much”  as an obstacle, especially when it comes to my role as a husband to my wife Michelle, parent to our five children and grandparent to our four grandchildren. 

I would rather look at my life and hope that my Grandmother's message that school day morning perhaps has allowed me to give of myself for the betterment of others.   

In some ways, I’m still that kid departing for school and trying to make something out of myself while dropping an item or two, but never too many to pick up. Who I am now is the sum total of who I’ve always been with my Grandmother's words still in my ear.

…what a moment it's been connecting that little 13 year old to this 72 year old who’s goal in life is still to do too much while having the time of my life doing it.

Michael Matlock, PhD is a freelance writer and a retired Corporate VP and Chief Compliance and Ethics Officer. His career consisted of 25 years in corporate America and 10 years in Higher Education. Additional writings can be found here, at Matlockville.com