It’s feet in the creek time of year again. It feels as good as you think it does!
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Lemon Moment
Category Archives: Gift
A Little Shared Anecdote With Humor
The following is a great little anecdote from one of my favorite people. The last couple of lines are sublime:
When I worked at Windstream, I would often take my lunch to Reservoir Park (in Little Rock) when the weather was pretty. Just to get away from the stress at that building and sit in nature.
One day when I was in the park, I saw a dog (of course) walking around. I tried to get it to come to me, and it wouldn’t. I watched it as it moved on. About five minutes later, an older woman came fast, walking by, carrying a leash. I started the car and drove up to her. I asked if she was looking for a white dog. She said, “Yes.” I said, “I know where it was headed. Do you want me to take you that way?” She hesitated and then said, “Please.” She got in, and as we were driving, we exchanged names, and I told her where I work and that I had been eating lunch when the dog came by. She said they lived at the end of the park.
We located the dog. It was on a path where the car couldn’t go, but we could see it, and she would be able to catch up. As she was thanking me, she told me to please be safe, and then she laughed and asked, “Didn’t your mother teach you not to pick up strangers?” I laughed and said, “Yes! Just like yours taught you not to get in a stranger’s car.”
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A Smart Whipping
As I walked down the hill at breakneck speed I caught up to another coworker. He’s an older guy who was raised in a very similar background to me. I took a fallen limb off the sidewalk and broke a 2-ft length of it free. I told him, “If you don’t pick up your pace, you’re going to get a switch on the back of your legs.” We both laughed. And then he told me a story that I really enjoyed: “When I was a young boy, I got a whipping with a stick quite often. My mom made both me and my brother fetch one. So we ended up getting the stick for one another instead of ourselves. My brother thought he was smart and got the gnarliest rough one he could find, intending it to be used on me. Mom took it out of his hand and then turned him around and gave him what for with that horrible stick. As my brother howled in pain and protest, I was crying so hard tears ran down my face. So when it was my turn, I hardly felt it, knowing I was gonna tease my brother for weeks. He ought to have known that you can’t outsmart your mama.”
Love, X
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An Encounter
This morning, even though my mind was in a shambles, I drove down to the convenience store in the other direction. An older man I hadn’t seen in a while was working. I got my soda and a sandwich and said l, “Hey, it’s nice to see you. It’s been a while.” He smiled and said, “Thank you I’m glad to be back.” And then he told me that he had a quadruple bypass. When he said it, I did notice I could see the top of the angry scar at his neckline. After I checked out, a couple of women came in. Even though it was not quite four in the morning, they said the same thing I did. It was his first day back on the job on the midnight shift. I felt so badly for him, having to come back to a job on the night shift after such a terror. We swapped stories about waking up with the nasogastric tube making us feel like we were choking to death. The two ladies listened and told him they were glad he was back. I love accidental encounters with people. So many people have huge obstacles they have to deal with. And for him? Facing death but yet still getting up to go to work and being nice to everyone he meets. Though I had talked to him before, it was never really anything other than superficial and perfunctory. Love, X
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A Favor
In the wreck of my day, the last thing I wanted to do was get out. For a lot of reasons. I tend to carry my emotions on my sleeve. But a mutual friend asked me to notarize something for somebody who really needed it. I met her at Fossil Cove. It’s a stone’s throw away from where I live. When I approached the bar and asked the bartender for the woman by name, I could see that she hesitated, wondering what I could possibly want. But I explained myself, knowing she probably thought I was up to no good. Had she noticed my name on my badge, that probably would have made her even more nervous. And she hollered over at the woman I was going to help. I’ve never charged anyone for notary. And never will. When she told me what she had gone through, a click turned in my head. I sat and looked at this woman, realizing that she had an impossible smile on her face given the information she just shared. I’m not certain I could have a smile on my face in her situation. But she did. That little click I felt in my head was perspective and gratefulness slamming into me. Even in chaos. I could feel that my mind wasn’t right. I’m glad I got out and did that favor for a friend and for the woman. I needed it.
Love, X
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Personal Post, So Be Advised
Personal Post
I’m the opposite of private across the board. I have a blog and a TikTok. I also write things for others because I don’t know how to turn off the spigot that runs in my mind.
One of the things that drive me bonkers is the misconception that people have about me. No one can call me a hypocrite because I always say it first. Whether it was having an emotional affair while I was married, having herpes, or admitting how susceptible I am to the alcoholism problem that infects many in my family. As you can see, I don’t keep those things private. A couple of people have been shocked that they’ve seen me with a cigarette. It’s about the stupidest thing for me to do, even though I foolishly use it as a substitute for anxiety treatments. I’d rather people know who I am, even if those things are hard to say openly.
I try to be as transparent as possible. A few months ago, I realized how idiotic I was being by getting away from that. Secrets infect a person worse than a virus. Because you can’t be open and yourself if you’re protecting a version of yourself.
But one of the vortexes I got stuck in is the privacy versus secrecy issue that plagues many lives and relationships. If you have a partner, don’t keep things in your life or on your phone that would be hurtful to the people you love. That it’s wrong to do or say anything that you wouldn’t want your partner ever to see or hear literally goes without saying. If you’ve gotten away from that? It’s never too late to wake up and be grateful that you found someone who loves you.
It’s important not to get weighed down by your past because everyone can renew at any point in their life. It doesn’t erase the past. I’m still accountable for those mistakes.
Recently, I was accused of being controlling. If wanting the best for someone is controlling, I’m definitely guilty. I worked hard to be the person I should be. At the same time, history and imagery beyond my control infected my head. So, I have to pay for my mistakes again.
I slept about an hour last night. I can do quite well on five a night. Because of that, I let my coworkers down by calling in this morning and failing to go to work. I love my job for many reasons and don’t want to lose it. It’s been a sustaining thread in my life for 18 years.
I’m 56. All I want is to be loved and have someone in my corner. We can both know each other’s demons, shake our heads at our idiocy, and move on. If you go to my TikTok and read through the innumerable videos I’ve made, you will get the idea that I do have a grasp of what makes people happy with themselves and their relationships. That ideal infects me. I’ve also helped several people in a counseling group. I tell them what I did wrong openly and share all the things I’ve learned in therapy. Obviously, I still don’t practice them well. Anyone who knows me can see it. At some point soon, I’m going to give Al-Anon a try because I need it.
But above and behind all this? Secrecy is the worst. And now, you’ve learned more things about me that you wouldn’t expect to see on social media.
I included a picture of me that Erika took before I performed the marriage of my deceased wife’s niece. It was one of the happiest days I’ve had in my life, even though one moment filled my eyes with tears and reminded me of the people I’ve lost. I had people I loved around me on Saturday. Trusting me to fumble performing the wedding, but also sharing their special day with me.
Love, X
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Life
By a series of coincidences, I’m officiating a wedding today. The niece of my wife, who died in 2007, asked me to perform her wedding. I put off getting ordained until shortly before my cousin Jimmy died ten years ago. Though I didn’t do his wedding, I was beyond grateful that he married Alissa before cancer got him. To see him suffering but also making such a loving gesture before he died made my heart swell with peace and love. As for today, I’m not the least bit nervous about it. No matter what unexpected things might happen (and they always do), the truth of weddings is that they only require five seconds of activity to be legal. That people jump and take the risk of marriage is an awesome thing. It is just a piece of paper that doesn’t amplify the commitment between them. But it is still the fundamental way to tell the world that you intend to be with your forever person, whether it’s like my cousin Jimmy who died a month afterward. Or my wife, who died a month short of eleven years with me. It’s impossible to know how much time lies ahead of us. We all get embroiled in the million things that occupy and fill our days. Behind it all, if we are lucky, is the one person who loves us and looks at us like the last french fry in the bottom of the bag. If you are lucky enough to have that one person who is always in your corner, even while they roll their eyes at you, almost nothing in life can derail you. Planes fall out of the sky, tornadoes rip through our homes, and people leave us unexpectedly. Don’t forget to look at the person you’re with and silently say thanks. Even if you’re listening to them slurp coffee from the cup or watching them leave their darned cup on the sink. We do all the things that fill our lives and sometimes forget that invisible things like love are by far the only ‘things’ that matter.
Love, X
Surprise! I’m Me Again
Erika surprised me last weekend with not one but two pairs of shoes. ( She even bought them new. 🙂 ) She was tired of seeing my worn-out but very comfortable work shoes. One of the pairs makes me feel like the god Mercury. The other pair? I literally danced and took off running at Academy when I felt how light they made me feel. I already feel that way most days, as if I’m a burning battery and my feet not quite touching the ground. Just at work today, I walked 23,000 steps, 75 flights of stairs, and jumped three railings. For years, I accommodated a huge amount of weight. I try not to think about spending those years not being the way I was always supposed to be. All the picnic tables I did not jump, all the miles I could have traversed in all manner of places, and the energy hidden inside my body but camouflaged by poor eating choices. Don’t get me wrong. I was very active and especially so because of my job. But there’s no getting around I foolishly convinced myself that it was more pleasurable to overeat than to feel the way I do now. As my friend Tammy taught me to say, nothing tastes as good as this feels. I know I won’t always be this way because age has no choice but to rob us incrementally of mobility. So if you see me jumping things I’m not supposed to be… Laugh and give me encouragement. You can laugh twice as hard if I bust my ass. Because one day, I will be like that native American next to the highway littered with trash, a tear in my eye, as I look upon a picnic table that I can no longer jump. So for today and all the days I can, I will pirouette, jump, climb trees, and remember what it felt like when I wasn’t truly me.
Love X
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Might As Well Jump
The problem with listening to one of my favorite Rocky theme remixes on the way to work is that it activates my Dukes of Hazzard reflex. Before I even realized fully what I was about to do, I took three quick steps, hooked my right hand on the railing, and sailed over the rail, landing on the mulch below. And then I laughed and laughed. People told me to stop jumping picnic tables. At least I’m not jumping the railing at the second level. Yet…
A Gift Passed On
Marsha, I sent you Grandpa’s shaving cup and razor for several reasons. Like so many touchstones, it’s just a cup and a razor. But it’s also personal and practical, something to connect me to a past that I romanticize with abandon. If Heaven had to be chosen from moments on this Earth, I might very well choose a summer in the early 70s with Grandma and Grandpa. Being poor wasn’t something I thought about then. It taught me that all the possessions in the world can’t replace the feeling of being loved, even if in a way that isn’t soft and fuzzy.
Bonnie trusted me with the shaving kit a few years ago. I wouldn’t have sent it to you a few years ago. You weren’t ready. And I know my saying so won’t hurt your feelings or open old wounds. I didn’t send it to you because it holds no value for me. As one of the last remaining sentimental things I own, the opposite is true. Everything is temporary, even the people and things we cherish. I don’t love the cup less than I once did. But I also don’t want to hoard and clutch something closely that might touch you in the same way it did me.
Each time I picked up, it was easier for me to flash back 50 years and almost smell Grandpa’s aftershave. He was a simple man, at least by the time I came around. Nostalgia sometimes cripples me when I get into memory mode, trying to recapture details or moments. But even if I don’t get the details right, nothing can rob me of the feeling I had when I was around him. Whether we were watching Kung Fu on the little black and white tv, sitting on the porch swing daring the yellow jackets to approach, or while I was splayed out on the floor with my play pretties while he watched baseball…I didn’t appreciate until I was much older that while Grandpa was no hugger, he gave me more affection than my parents did for the first part of my life. He didn’t raise his voice to me, nor his hands. If I needed to learn that a razor blade was sharp, he’d gruffly tell me to be careful – but didn’t tell me not to touch it. He let me swing an ax that was beyond my capability, bought me nails to drive needlessly into everything in sight, and handed me a sliver of his cannonball chewing tobacco, letting me decide whether I liked it. He poured me coffee when I was four, let me stand beside him when the tornado weather approached and told me to stand still so that we could watch for an unseen animal in the cotton fields. He taught me that four-legged animals were rarely as dangerous as those of us walking around on two. He tried to tell me stories of the war, of riding the trains like a hobo, and many others; Grandma would shout at him to stop. I remember hardly any of those stories, but I can still feel the Monroe County sun on our legs and smell the creosote of the porch steps baking.
I am hoping the feeble power of words that I possess can give you a glimpse of how much it meant for me for Bonnie to send me Grandpa’s shaving kit. The cup is a mercurial, mystical object. It looks like an ordinary thing. But that’s the magic of memory, love, and longing. We imprint onto things that remind of us of the people we loved and who loved us.
May it serve you well or in moments where you get distracted by life’s events that aren’t really important. Or when you feel yourself tempted by old habits. Grandpa was afflicted with many of the same torments that made your life difficult. But he ended up toward the end of his life living a simple, uncomplicated life devoid of the temptations that discolored his adult life. That’s something to be appreciated. If you end up with nothing, yet have a life with even a single person who loves you, it’s a good life.
Love, X
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 