Thursday, April 19, 2007

Call me Bessie

Wallis Warfield Spencer Simpson Windsor! Wow, what a name.
Bessie, as she was called by her close friends and relatives died 21 years ago this week. She was best known for being one half of the "Love Affair of the Century". That would be the 20th Century, and the other half would be David Windsor, AKA King Edward VIII of England. You remember, he gave up his throne to his brother George, and when George passed away, the monarchy fell to Elizabeth II. (So, again, an American has a great deal to do with British politics. Had it not been for the fact that Wallis was married, divorced (2 times) and yes, worst of all, an American - Edward would have remained King.)
Call me Bessie now. I'll tell you why. Wallis, Bessie, it turns out was born into a rather poor family, perhaps middle class, perhaps average at best. She married averagely, she lived averagely, but there was JUST something about Bessie that kept her out of the box completely. She couldn't be tamed I suppose. She just wouldn't settle for anything less than what she believed she was meant for - which was greatness. She knew she had it in her, she recognized it early on in her life, but her caste status in a small town in Pennsylvania, later Maryland, just kept her down, kept her in "her place" as other said, and it took every ounce of energy from her sheer will to pull herself up to make something of a name for herself.

I'm not saying I'm wanting to date a king. I don't think there's one out there worth crossing the pond for. I just know that for years, well - most of my life, I've been held back as Bessie was held back because of my position in life, my class, my caste, my breeding - if you will. Great parents, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I think the Rockefellers or the Astors are missing a kid - if you know what I mean. I just KNOW there is more out there, more than what I've been able to obtain strictly by name. It takes fight, guts, pull, clout, work, and most of all - connections.
When she was dating the king, and I suppose other lords or men of nobility in England, Wallis was penniless in America. She borrowed clothes to wear to balls and she didn't have enough money for fare, often walking to an acceptable location where she could be picked up without her suitor knowing she was living on the lower side of the city. I can relate to this - wait - I am living this now! People associate fame with fortune. My dog is famous, therefore, they assume, we must be rich. The polar opposite is true - in reality. (and it sucks by the way)
What is great is that in Wallis, and in strong-willed, pig-headed, bull-skulled women just like her I have found a common bond. I am simply unable to stop pressing my dreams and desires to fruition. They have to come true because like a Marine on a mission, I will not stop. I will not quit. I will not be distracted - my mission comes with a little baggage; my children. If I fail at life, I drag them with me. My only option is to work, to fight, to dig deeper, to find a way to make it - and I will make it. That has never been in question...but you know what, it wouldn't be so bad if someone wanted to help a bit. No, I won't marry you. That's not helping - but it won't be the end of the world for someone who can give us a break to do it.
The great news is - I'm not alone. I take Christ with me everywhere I go. His grace reminds me that everything is possible, and nothing is impossible - so call me what you want, but I will answer the phone if you have a little work for us! You may be the spark that sets the fire!

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