Who decides

Editor's Note: This column originally ran in the Dec. 27, 2013, edition of the Daily Mail.

The more pluses I put on my middle age plus, the more I am aware of how many times, some little incident has changed my life. And then I try to remember why I chose to be where the incident happened, or wonder why any of the other people involved happened to be there. Somebody had to have made a decision.

At this point you are probably wondering why I decided to write such a confusing first paragraph, and what on earth I am talking about.

It all started when I was looking at a gaggle of geese (I love that word!) on our pond. They were quietly swimming around, some were going underwater to feed from the bottom, others were preening themselves, when suddenly there was honking and flapping of wings and they all took off and flew to the southwest. What or who made them decide all at once to take off and fly the same direction together? Had there been a goosey discussion we were not aware of? Was there a dominate gander who decided for the whole group, or was there something in the environment that I was not aware of that changed so that they knew it was time to move on?

As I watched them fly away I thought that I was glad that I wasn't a goose. (No remarks!) I want to make my own decisions, or at least be in on the decision making. I can see where that might not be practical in the natural world, but I was glad I was human and could be able to make my own decisions.

Of course, I realized that when I was a child I was led by my parents and seven older siblings. That is part of being human. I also had teachers, traffic lights, street signs, doctors, dentists and laws that made decisions for me. But I still could plan where and when to be somewhere as long as I followed the rules, broke no laws, and took no chances.

But I couldn't make the decision that another driver in another car wouldn't be at the same street corner and not see me in my car also entering the intersection. That drive to the hospital in an ambulance wasn't my decision at all. Suddenly I wasn't making any of the decisions about myself. Yes, I had planned to be driving the car in that neighborhood. I had planned to be at the church. I had planned to be in that town.

But wait a minute. I hadn't really planned to be in that town all by myself. My parents decided that was where I would be born. My husband and I chose to retire back to my family home. My husband chose to go into the ministry of the Methodist Church, but I chose to go along with him. That is why we were at that corner. My parents and my husband had more to do with that incident than I really did.

But I made the decision to marry my husband. But would it have happened if I hadn't decided to come to Columbia, Mo., to go to college. I certainly hadn't planned that a war would make housing a problem, or that my sister and I would end up living in a boarding house next door to a rooming house for boys. I hadn't been at all a part of Lester's plan to live in that rooming house and eat his meals in our boarding house. All those decisions worked together to allow me to make the decision to say yes to marriage.

Of course, that in turn opened up hundreds of other decisions about professions, jobs, children, homes, even clothing, menus, entertainment, pets, cars, TV shows, movies, books etc., etc., etc.

So being perfectly healthy, not injured at all from the accident, seated in our own home, watching the wildlife around us, I should not wonder at all about why the geese follow a decision maker. I have not really been in charge of my own life as much as I would like to think I have been.

But like the movie says, "It's a Wonderful Life." I must have been a good decision maker whenever I had the opportunity.