Ashton's LegacyPerfectionism

You may have noticed that I have not written for several months. Part of that, frankly, is because I have been overly-concerned about what others think about what I write. This is very raw and tender for me. I had a conversation recently with a friend about why I have not been writing lately. I told her about my self-consciousness. She was very encouraging, reminding me that I write some things that others need to hear — things that only I can write. Thanks, Heather, for that encouragement. I ask for your prayers in my behalf as I try to leave myself behind and see what I can do to help others. Paradoxically, as many of you know, that is where true joy is found anyway — in the service of others.

I recently read the quote that is attributed to several authors: “Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly [sometimes the word “badly” is used] — until you learn to do it well.” That is something my perfectionistic heart and mind needs to hear; it is something I will try to remember as I write my blog posts.

I’m going to ramble a little now: I attended the funeral of Frances Louise Darnell Goodman yesterday. She is the mother of one of my best friends growing up. She also taught me for the last half of my fourth-grade year in school.

A few memories about Frances: Doctors are famous (or infamous) for their poor handwriting. I wonder if my teachers had an inkling early on that I might become a physician — because of my poor handwriting! I was always a good student. However, Mrs. Goodman would have the other students grade our spelling words — and mark them wrong if the letters were not made correctly. Wow! That caught my attention — and I slowed down to make the letters correctly! I’m afraid that I have regressed significantly in my handwriting since fourth grade!

Mrs. Goodman also helped with some of the Little League coaching when I was about 9 years old. I remember the care she provided when a grounder popped up and hit me in the mouth. She took me to her house and put some ice on my swollen lip.

When I was about in sixth grade, I was assigned to an “advanced” group in one of the subjects. We did our work in the same classroom where some of the “challenged” students were taught. Mrs. Goodman wasn’t my teacher then, but, when she saw me in that classroom, she was very concerned about me; I still remember and appreciate her concern for my education.

Frances has been especially thoughtful since Ashton died. She attended his funeral and graveside service. She came to the luncheon afterward. When I would post my blogs, she would frequently give encouraging comments. I appreciated her love and encouragement.

One of the nice things about practicing medicine in my hometown is caring for people who helped raise me — like Frances. It was very rewarding to be her physician.

I think that’s all for now. Thanks for listening.

Written by Carter

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