I re-launched this blog a week or so ago with the idea that I would sit down and start writing again. Writing to me is very therapeutic to say the least. See, I’m not a very vocal person. My writing doesn’t reflect any conversation you’ll ever have with me. I don’t talk politics. I don’t speak up unless I feel there is a need. Most of the time, I worry about how I’m going to sound or what others are going to think. That last line is actually kind of funny because it goes to show that I don’t necessarily practice what I preach. My Mom, for example, is all about appearances. She won’t go to the store in what she has on. She has to put on lipstick and comb her hair, put on nicer pants, and ‘look like an eighty two year old woman should look’. I tell her all the time that of the hundred people in that store, not one is going to go home and tell their families about her, what she was wearing, how she looked, etc… But it’s important to her. Where as that partially holds true for my vocal ability in conversations, I think more than anything, I just don’t want to have to be on the spot trying to explain what I just said.
So long story short, I haven’t found that magical inspiration to write down my random thoughts because I didn’t feel anything coming from my brain, through my fingertips, to this fancy light up keyboard was of any interest to anyone but me. And maybe all of this is only remotely interesting to me and me alone, but that’s okay.
Lots of random thoughts going through this brain of mine this weekend. Everything from happiness and excitement, to frustration, anger, and sadness.
Friday, I took the day off work to chauffer my Mom, her sister who was in from out of town, and my cousin. We spent a couple of hours out at another sister’s apartment, and met up with two other siblings, another Aunt, and another cousin. My one Aunt no longer has red hair that she was always known for. An Uncle couldn’t hear a thing that was being said. Another did his patented telling of a joke then walking off after the punch line. As I sat back and watched, I heard this phrase more than I’ve heard it in my entire lifetime; “Say that again? I can’t hardly hear you”. All had hearing aids and glasses. All talked about how old they were. All talked about how they were the remaining five of the original ten kids. And they all talked about how this is probably the last time they’ll all get together. I guess as some point, you start to realize that life is finite. I know at almost fifty, I often wonder when my time is up. Like so many of us, I’ve lost people way to soon. Starting with my friend Vicky, who was truly an angel on this earth. She was sweet, kind, loving, and was a true example of what a good person was. She went to bed one night and didn’t wake up the next. I lost a co-worker and friend to a freak accident with a souped up golf cart, leaving his wife and two kids, one of whom I coached in soccer for many years. Six years ago, I lost my Aunt, and to this day, swear I saw God’s hand come down and lift her soul from her body. I’ve lost my father in law, grandparents, and others over the years, and I completely understand we all have to go sometime. Which brings me to my next random thought.
My neighbor and friend lost her mother the other morning. She had Parkinson’s disease and dementia. My Dad also has Parkinson’s, so of course my over active imagination took me to a very dark place. Death opens up a deep side of me and my thinking and writing. It’s almost a positive energy that comes from me where I try to find words to bring comfort and understanding. Now, I do not claim to have a clue as to why we die when we do, except for the faith and belief that we’re all on borrowed time, and it’s really up to us to do something with this time. Unfortunately, about a month from now, I’ll be back to not thinking about living life, and will go right back to my hum drum, cookie cutter, day to day life of getting up in the middle of the night to let the dogs out, fight traffic to the office, try to find some purpose while in the office, drive home, maybe go for a walk, and spend the rest of the night vegging on the couch, complaining to myself that I don’t do anything. You are right there with me, I’m sure, except for those of you who have kids in activities – you don’t have time to sit and ponder the universe and your place in it.
Here’s my view on death. It’s there to serve a purpose. We may not see it, but I have to believe that somehow, someway, we understand why someone passed. Maybe we never realize it or vocalize it, but I think somewhere deep in our psyche, it suddenly makes sense, and becomes part of who we are. I think the general idea is not to take this life for granted, but I don’t want to get all cliché. But I will ask that you take inventory of your life. Are you good with who you are? Who are you living for? I keep being reminded of the Blackberry Smoke song – “I may not change the world, but I’m gonna leave a scar”. I guess now it’s trying to figure out what’s going to leave that scar.
So on to happier things… Many moons ago, I started hanging out with this guy, and got to know his family, and they welcomed me with open arms. In a way, they became my surrogate family, if you will. When my family moved to Topeka after my first semester in college, they offered me a place to stay on the weekends when I’d come in to hang out with my friends. One summer, they allowed me to live with them and try my luck at actually getting out and trying the hardest thing for conservative introvert – sales. My friend became my brother, and his sisters became my sisters. Their parents became my surrogate parents, treating me like one of their own and never as a house guest.
Too many years have gone by with the excuse that ‘life got too busy’ becoming the answer to the question “what have you been up to?”. In the thirty three years since my friend pulled up to my house on that Friday night, we’ve seen marriages, births, drama, health scares, and even death. We went years without seeing each other. We were thrilled to get birth announcements and wedding invitations, but rarely made the effort to stop by at least around the holidays to say hello. This past weekend, we stopped by for a Labor Day BBQ. From the moment I walked in the door, to the moment we all were sitting outside sharing stories and laughing, it was like no time had passed. That’s true friendship, and something I will always be appreciative of.
Back to another random thought now – and unfortunately, it goes back to a conversation I had with my neighbor today. Again, no details, but I found myself being angry most of the rest of the day. Angry in that life is not fair. Some people get all the breaks, while some people live broken. Some people always have things fall into their laps, while others can’t even get a sniff at something positive. And I don’t believe it’s that whole Karma thing or putting good and positive energy into the universe. I know plenty of complete jerks who have been offered newer, higher paying jobs without even trying. I’ve seen people luck into money. I’ve even seen people fall into habits that made them healthier and happier, and they did nothing that I can see. And with this anger I was feeling, I had what I have come to define as a George Bailey moment. For those of you who aren’t aware, George Bailey is a character in the Christmas movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”.
There are a lot of times I feel like George. A guy with big dreams, but everything is always put on the back burner so someone else can have what they want. George saved for college, but lost his father and had to take over the company business. He wanted to travel the world once his brother got back from the war and could take over, but his brother came back married and with a job already in place. He himself got married and planned to go on a big honeymoon, but there was a run on the bank, and he had to use their honeymoon money to help keep the family business afloat. Finally, his forgetful uncle misplaced a large deposit and it fell into the hands of the big bad banker man. He lost it and was ready to jump off a bridge into frigid waters. An angel saved him and gave him his wish that he’d never been born just so he could see how lives turned out differently because he wasn’t there. The family business closed because the Dad died and there was no one to take over. His little brother wasn’t saved after falling through the ice – George wasn’t there to pull him to safety. His wife ended up an old maid. The town he lived in ended up being a little raunchy and run by the banker man. The beautiful little houses he built for people were slums owned by said banker man. It was horrible, and seeing it made George realize that he actually did serve a purpose in this world.
It’s days when I can’t catch a break, or people expect me to drop everything to help them, or someone else wins the lottery where I feel like George Bailey. No, I’ve never been to that point, but I can understand where some people could be pushed that way. That’s another blog entry in itself that I’ll save for later.
So I’ll end on this random thought. Sometimes, just because someone isn’t vocal or act like you doesn’t mean they don’t have an opinion or an interest in the subject. Sometimes, they just take in what’s around them and internalize what they hear. Some turn to blogs. And unfortunately, some turn to more drastic measures. But bottom line, at least for me, is to practice what I preach. Take a step out of the comfort zone every now and again. If you have something to complain about, especially if it’s about you, you have something tangible to fix. So fix it. Cherish the people you love and let them know how you feel every once in a while. Of course, don’t say it so much that it’s as routine as saying ‘see ya’. Don’t be afraid to speak up even if you think you may sound dumb. Odds are, there’s a good chance someone else is thinking the same way you are and maybe you’ll do some good after all. Just…..live.
Hope your heads aren’t spinning too fast. I jumped around quite a bit, just like I promised I most likely would. And again, most of this stuff is never how you’d hear me speak. I think that just goes to prove we all have multiple facets to our person and who we are. Something to keep in mind next time we decide to judge someone.
So as I close, I challenge you – make your written voice match your real voice. Don’t worry about being judged. Be random, and act on any silliness that comes to mind. It’s ok to want to play in the mud from time to time. It’s okay to be you, no matter how hard that may seem.
Wow…that really was random…
Random Thoughts of an Ordinary Average Guy 