I’m heading home tomorrow to visit my dad. It will be the first time back home since my mom passed away. I know it will be different. I don’t know how I will handle it. There will be a silence… I am most stressed about being in the kitchen. Now my parents didn’t dance in the kitchen, but it was the hub of the house, especially when I was growing up. I would sit on the counter to talk with my parents as they made Sunday breakfast. When I became an adult, we would lean against the counter, coffee in hand and just talk.
A digital frame sits in the kitchen, a Christmas present from us, with pictures of my family playing on it. Bags of chips are still placed on top of the refrigerator, even though they got a new fridge a few years ago. The microwave still sits on wooden table in the corner.
It will be different now.
Life is different now.
But I will be back home soon. I’ll stand in the kitchen, coffee in hand, while dad and I fill the silence talking about memories.
The first poem in my book, April 2020, is “To the Old Man Gardening During the Pandemic”. The poem chronicles my encounter with an older gentleman as he was gardening. I was on a walk, which I did a lot during the lockdown. This man’s house has a big backyard with a variety of flora. I had seen him out in his garden over the years. Of course, the poem (and book) are centered on life during the pandemic.
Flash forward to now. Even with the craziness of the summer, I have been walking on a regular basis. I had noticed that I had not seen the gentleman out in his garden, even though it still looked good. Yesterday I found out why.
He’s gone.
I do not know what happened to him. For once I was too shy to ask the person out front of the house closing up a moving trailer. The backyard had one of those little kid cars (the blue one with a red hood), a hot tube, and other toys that meant that a young family had moved into the house.
He was gone.
I stood at the yield sign at the T-junction where most of his flowers are trying not to cry. This summer has been filled with drastic moments that changed my life. Some joyful and exciting (my oldest son starting his career). Others have cracked my spirit. And standing next to the flowers this gentleman spent so much time caring for pushed my heart to the edge.
I wondered what the new family would do with the backyard. I envied the children, they will love the space (the house sits on two lots). But what will they do with the trellis? Will they keep the roses? His home and garden was becoming a home for a new family.
The old man gardening during the pandemic is gone. But I remember him. And his garden.
Yesterday’s post shared an anecdote that showed how important small talk is, how talking about the weather can build a connection… I also shared how I am not good at small talk because I would rather talk about deeper aspects of life… I’m sharing a song below as part of this introduction, “Here I Go Again” by Casting Crowns
This song was written by Mark Hall after he loss a friend to suicide. Mark knew he was struggling, yet, they never really talked about it. Mark shared the story at a concert almost 20 years ago. (It was the first concert I took my oldest son to; he is the fan of Casting Crowns.)
“Here I Go Again” shares the real struggle we have in talking about deep and important issues in our lives. Like in the song, “But that old familiar fear is tearing at my words / What am I so afraid of?” I wonder keeps us from really diving into issues that really make a difference in our lives. Why don’t we tell people we love them more? Like everyday! Why don’t we discuss the hardships we face chasing our dreams? What are we hiding from? What are we afraid of?
There is no clear and easy answer to this because each person has their own fears, their own histories. And we do have deep conversations with friends, but not very often. We do tell people we love them, just not enough. I understand the role trust plays in conversations, and I don’t trust many people at all, but I’m not afraid to talk about deep or interesting things.
I don’t know how to conquer your fear, or anyone’s. But I believe we need to move beyond the weather in our conversations. Build strong bonds instead of quick social connections. Tell people we love them more, hug them more. Our lives are complex and deep experiences, we should share that. You never know who you’ll connect with or what you will learn.
I’m laughing as I write this because I had a memory from decades ago when I asked my brother-in-law, who is a farmer, if he ever thought about where his crops go in this world, who might eat his corn.
He looked at me and said, “Cows eat my corn, this is a feed crop. Not a human crop.”
So, I am not very good at small talk. I would rather be silent than talk about the weather. Now, I know that small talk is a social component that helps build a bound between people. I read somewhere that a comment on the weather can start a conversation anywhere in the world. Small talk is important, I’m just not good at it.
I would rather talk about deeper things. But people don’t want to jump into that side of the pool very often it seems. I think we hide behind small talk, hide behind discussing the weather and tomorrow’s forecast.
But today reminded me that the weather can make connections… even if it is just for a few minutes.
It rained all morning. It was just before noon when I headed for my walk. My neighborhood is a weird mix of cul-da-sac,and winding roads. I have different “routes” depending on the time I have to walk. There are regular walkers I encounter, but I was walking at an odd time for me. I had my earbuds in to listen to music and took a “medium” route today.
I came across someone I didn’t know about halfway through my route. She was an older lady walking on the other side of the road. We waved at each other. (I wave only about half of the time when I walk by someone – told you, not good at this small talk thing).
Then she raised her hands up, like I had a gun. It startled me. I took out my earbuds and said, “I’m sorry?”
She raised them again saying, “Do you think it’s going to rain on us?” She put her hands down, then lifted her left hand up, which was holding an umbrella. “I brought this just in case.”
“I think we are good for a while,” I said smiling.
“I hope so,” she replied.
And we headed on our way.
Toward the end of my route we crossed paths again. We smiled at the moment.
I took my earbuds out as we got closer. “Didn’t need the umbrella,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s not like we would melt if it did rain,” she said.
We waved, smiling, as we headed in opposite directions.
Nothing world changing, just two people talking about the weather, but it elevated the moment. A small positive connection was made… and I think we sure could use more of these moments.
A moment of truth here, I am not very good at lawn care or maintaining our landscaping. Our lawn is a mess. I spent three hours pulling weeds and trimming our plants. I have two fingers with bruises beneath the fingernails. Yes, it hurts to type this post tonight.
At one time our lawn was fine. Then for five summers we traveled with our second son as he played AAU basketball. Since this April we have traveled home to see my mom (she passed away in June) or been helping with the transition of my in-laws to assisted living or moving our first son to his new town. Add that we do not have underground sprinklers. Combine that with the simple fact that I do not have the foundational knowledge of lawn care and you get my lawn. And bruised fingers.
As the sun heated my back this afternoon I thought about one of my dadisms, “Do the small things and big things don’t happen.” If we spend a little time working on the small things, spending the time taking care of routine activities, bigger issues don’t usually happen.
My fingers prove that point. The landscaping looks good. The lawn? Not yet, but I am working on that tomorrow.
Now, for the twist, I am happy with my lawn. Its condition shows that I was spending time holding my mom’s hands, feeding her ice chips, getting to see her days before she passed away.
The lawn shows that I spent time traveling every summer to see my son play basketball. I learned a hard lesson during that time (blog post about that lesson), but I wouldn’t exchange the memories with my son and wife for a green lawn.
I will be working on getting my lawn back, I mean we have games of capture the flag to play. But, if you drive by my house, remember that my lawn looks the way it does because of the choices I’ve made to spend my time on other aspects of my life. I’ve got bruised fingers and a full heart to prove it.
My youngest daughter said I should write about horses.
So, this post will be about horses.
I’m scared of horses.
For decades, the family would meet in South Dakota for Thanksgiving. My aunt and uncle had horses. The tradition didn’t change when I had my own family, but we did have to get hotel rooms as my family grew. We have so many pictures of my children riding the horses. Sometimes bundled up in coats with the sun shining. But not a single picture of me on a horse.
When I was a senior in high school I tried riding one of the horses. My uncle guided the horse around the front fence line, which had recently been repaired. The horse spotted some rope left on the ground, wrapped up and looking like a snake. The horse reacted by rearing up. I was spooked, too, and fell off.
I know, not the coolest story, not even that big of a serious reaction. But for someone who spent much of his life in big cities; I was shook. And I have never been on a horse since.
Their presence is strong. I don’t have the confidence to match their energy. My kids just laugh and wave as they enjoy riding horses when they can. I just smile and wave back.
And now some words from my guest blogger, my youngest daughter (9 years old):
One time we went to Wisconsin and this one place you could ride horses in a carriage when my dad said that we were gonna go one day I was blasted with energy and joy so we went I ran to the line and when they were getting ready we pet the horses I ran to every horse petting them over and over again I also got to flick a switch on the ride, we rode in between the canyons and when we got back we went into the shop and that’s when I met my best friend canyon, shes a horse stuffed animal, horses are truly beautiful and kind.
This will be the last post in the Favorite Series. I will get back to sharing just three things, and get back to connecting ideas on a deeper level because in this post I am going to share three favorite things about life…
I am going to share the deep abstract element first. One of my favorite things about life is a blue sky with clouds. Let me explain. A blue sky with clouds gives me a sense of living. Whether I am walking, playing outside with kids, or driving to get a coffee, when the sky is that dark edged blue and peppered with clouds, especially big puffy ones that almost seem 3D, I feel a sense of being here. The starkness of the sky reminds me that I am on this Earth and have this moment to be me. To live this life the best I can because, like the clouds, life is in constant motion. A day may be filled with joy or heartbreak, but it is my day to live.
Other skies, like a starry night, have different vibes for me and I enjoy being under their charm. But give me a blue sky with clouds because it fills my soul.
Learning is my favorite aspect of life. I know, this shouldn’t surprise anyone who has read a few of my blog posts. Life is always providing opportunities to learn, to connect ideas, or to give us a chance to become better than we were. We can learn from books (a definite favorite of mine), from people (maybe the most powerful) and from what happens in our daily life (if we pay attention).
But learning is a choice. Even though I find it hard to believe, not everyone cares to learn. Many people are happy with where they are and don’t seek out ways to learn… I can’t do that, because I believe that who we are as a person is the direct effect of what we learn. And who we are is how we live.
Connected to learning is creativity (which is also who we are). My third favorite aspect of life is creativity. I like to draw. I like to make videos. I like to dance. I like to come up with games to play with my children (we have a pool game called Shark. It’s kind of an underwater tag game). And if you follow my blog, even though I don’t have a regular schedule, you know I love to write.
During a deep discussion a few years ago with my seniors I said that life is simply who you are and what you do with your time.
I still believe this. I am a writer, who loves to learn, and get lost gazing at a blue sky with puffy clouds. What a life!
I am going to break my rule of sharing three favorite things for this post because it’s food. And I won’t expand on the favorites like I have in the other posts. So, here are some of my favorite foods.
Favorite cereal: Boo Berry. It is only available in this area around Halloween.
Favorite type of chips: Kettle cooked jalapeno. I’m not loyal to any brand, I enjoy them all.
Favorite candy: Albanese Gummies. I like the bears, the worms, the sour ones.
Favorite pizza: Sausage and mushrooms. Again, not loyal to any brand or restaurant.
Favorite ice cream: Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food.
Favorite homemade meal I cook: Chicken and rice (cooked together with cream of mushroom soup).
Favorite snack: Blueberry almonds. Hard to find in my area, but they do show up on the shelves in the store every once in a while.
Favorite movie snack: Popcorn, lots of butter.
Favorite drink: Coffee with milk. Love trying new flavors and company blends.
A few of my favorite foods. I am chuckling because of all these favorites, I only have popcorn and coffee in the house at the moment… time to go grocery shopping!
Because of last month’s challenge, I decided to share with you three favorite albums. So, this ended up being a challenge because I have rediscovered the beauty of listening to a full album. Add the factor of soundtracks and compilations. Add that I have hundreds of CDs, yes I still buy them… and I have some that are not on Spotify or other streaming services. By no means is this a top 10 kind of list. These are just three of my favorite albums.
Blind to Reason by Grayson Hugh, is an album I listen to a lot, even after 35 years. The album was released in 1988. I might have been one of the few teenagers to have bought the CD back in 1988, but I loved the song “Talk It Over” when I first heard it. Even now the album leaves me feeling good about life.
She by Harry Connick Jr. is a musical trip. There are songs that make you smile while you bob your head, while others challenge your mind and spirit. “Honestly Now (Safety is Just Danger … Out of Place)” is one of my favorite songs from the album.
Fear of a Black Planetby Public Enemy is a masterpiece of an album. I know fans will argue with me about this, but the themes of the songs and the musical production of this album hits on every song. I have a hard time just listening to the album straight through because I will hit repeat on songs like “Brothers Gonna Work It Out” and “Welcome to the Terrordome”.
This post was so hard to write. There are so many great albums. I shared 3 from my physical collection that numbers close to 700 CDs (I won’t talk about the cassettes). Let me know if you own or listen to these albums in the comment section.
Funny how life connects. For a Twitter challenge today, it asked what is your favorite movie. I used one of my favorite songs in another challenge based on music. So this must be the perfect time for this series. Today is movies, so here are three of my favorite movies (4 if you see the tweet I mentioned before).
One of my favorite horror movies is Oculus. Mirrors have a long history as a literary element. Mirrors are passageways. Used as a metaphor for truth. This move is centered on a mirror, and it is scary!
A documentary that always hits me is Louder Than a Bomb. I know, for those readers who know me this doesn’t surprise you. But if you have to see this movie to understand. This movie reveals how poetry helps people, teens in this case, make sense of the world.
A cult classic of mine is The Warriors. Yes, the 1979 gang movie. It is such a great film. I won’t go into my teacher mode and break down the idea of community, identity, and friendship this movie reveals. We can chat about that after you’ve watched it.
It is all Connected 