Thankfulness

Is This Fly Shit or is it Pepper?

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Is this fly shit or is it pepper?

And old friend and I used to have this discussion after various business meetings. His point was always shrouded in “Is this important or is this merely seasoning?” I for one was enthralled with that question (fly feces or seasoning) and the comparison itself. Both seemed important to me but for different reasons. Both were good metaphors for events as they about to or were happen(ing).

Fly shit seems like something that you would not want in your food and one might strive to determine which specks were those, so that, they could be removed. If you are focused on the fly poop you probably will not enjoy your meal. I posit that one might not taste their meal simply due to a narrow focus on insignificant droppings. One might also choose to only eat white foods and season them after close inspection. One might only use salt to season their food.

I think that is a boring way to eat. Salty meringue seems less than satisfactory, maybe even, unfortunate. To me that seems, also, a boring way to live life.

The universe is full of specks. Many of which are there for an intended purpose. Many are there merely for seasoning but even the fecal matter matters. Sometimes flys will land on the carrots or broccoli.

Looking backward through life I see a lot of pepper and other spices. I know that there are other things that do not fit that category with exactness. I do not focus on those. I do not look back with sadness and loss. Cheryl and I had a great time. More and more I envision the good times, the great times. More and more it occurs to me that the fly shit is merely something to be disregarded as wrinkles in the fabric of the universe. It was (is) events and things and times for learning and growth to happen. It is more life to be embraced.

I thank the universe for that opportunity. (Now, maybe not then.)

Yesterday our grief share focus was on being stuck in grief and ways to break out of that stuckness. In other words fly shit. Embrace it. It is hard to do but embrace it with enthusiasm given to other more embraceable events: birthday parties, holidays, vacation trips, the list goes on. Allow new connections to develop.

I made a new connection. I tell myself I was not looking for another new relationship but apparently I was. It is definitely all pepper and spice with a little fly shit here and there. Flys do not seem to eat much. The spices overwhelm the other things.

Carpe the damn Diem (and do not forget the Herbs de Provence.)

from https://premeditatedleftovers.com/blog/

Daffodils and Forsythia

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I think of these as two of the basic food groups of the Spring flowers. The picture included here is immediately behind my little condo on the next property. Some kind soul who is probably no longer with us on our journey planted this bush and the clump of daffodils near it just so Wisdom could show me the beauty of nature.

This particular forsythia had its ruffled skirt trimmed off by my neighbor upstairs who felt that it was unfurling too invasively across the meager lawn covering last season. At that time in my life I was preoccupied with the end of Cheryl’s life and my own stupidity after a bout with too much vodka one evening. I did not speak out in behalf of this fine example of nature’s finery. This year I feel better suited to defend its propensity to thrive into its natural shape both ungainly and glorious though it may be.

We humans have a propensity to modify, adjust and change the world to our own design. Why is that? Are we unable to accept nature in its natural form? I enjoy formal gardens as much as anyone but I also enjoy woods and flowering plants in their natural habitat. With Cheryl gone almost a year I am slowly and considerately adjusting my living space to me and my habitation of it. The view of this forsythia and its companion daffodil clump are very special to me. They shout, SPRING IS HERE. I can hear them.

Soon our landscaper folks will show up to tune up the gardens around the building, spruce up the mulch and generally trim things. Rigor will be added to the plantings. The forsythia will be ignored, thankfully, because it is on another’s property. We do not own the woods next door.

Further down the property others have cleaned out the forest floor to plant and maintain various gardens and “improvements” to nature. I will not. But I will trim up my little space around my patio after the landscaper does his thing.

Rains come down, daffos dil, sun shines, birds poop and honeys suckle. The landscape is unfurling as it can and should. The vernal has had its equinox and light is returning to our part of the planet. Wisdom speaks again.

Carpe Diem.

What If?

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Once in a while, not very often, but once in a while when someone I care for says something that piques my interest, I think, what if? This time around it was Midwest Mary who in a chat about writing fiction she said, fiction is when you play what if with reality. That comment spiraled my mind into lalaland. It may never come back. I have been thinking about that on and off all day for the past several and to me “what if” falls into the category of second guessing one’s own decisions and actions in life.

But what if the reality of those decisions and actions cause a different reality to develop. Second guessing reality. Those three words seem to suggest all sorts of outcomes.

Recently the newsy folks, the Congress of the United States, some guy in New Jersey and a lot of people who do not look at the night sky leaped to the conclusion that Iranian drones were spying on people and activities in New Jersey and southern Florida and to avoid detection those drones had their running lights on. What if? Are we about to be invaded or attacked by Iran? This sounds a bit like a Stephen King story. (One of my favorite story tellers is Stephen. He makes me interested in going to Maine for something other than chowder.) A better question might be why? But asking why the Iranians might be standing off shore of New Jersey flying drones to spy on us and looking to see if President-elect Trump putts out or just picks up, takes away from a good fictional story.

Maybe I am too clinical as I think about background, situations and possibilities. The Martian is a great book and was made into a great movie. A what if. The atmosphere on Mars is so light that a violent storm is pretty much like turning on the ceiling fan in my bedroom on low. Beyond that though, all the rest of the actions are believable as reality. Great story tellers are not concerned with this reality. They are making a new reality in the story. Mary has a strong argument. (Thank you, Mary for making me think about the ordinary and extraordinary.)

I do not live on Mars.

I have no desire to be there. I exist in this world and I am unable to imagine another so no doubt I will not be a fiction writer. I should embrace that in myself. There is a new person in my life and life moves on into the future. This is my reality.

We first met in a coffee shop and talked for two hours or so. We were total strangers then, not so now, but we connected that first time. We have met several times to have a meal. We have eaten brunch, lunch and dinner. I have cooked for her which at the time I think surprised her. We have seen a couple movies. During one of those I reached over to hold her hand. It was a comfort to me then and it is now. We went to a bookstore and shopped for books. She is a buyer of books, I am a library borrower of books but I bought a book anyway. We are both readers of books. We met in local winery to have a glass of wine and just chat. I cannot think of a better word than connection. Between us there is a connection.

Cheryl and I connected the first time we met more than fifty years ago. That is a long time between connections. I had forgotten how important connection and conversation is to me, is to us as humans.

In between all of those meetings we exchanged many many text messages and phone calls. I am interested in her family and her life and her thoughts about stuff.

She makes me feel like a teenager. I am happy around her. I am uncomfortable around her like a teenaged boy. I say stupid teenager like things because I am less guarded in my conversation. I enjoy her conversation and she is a good friend. It is not all about her when we talk. (I try to not make it all about me when we talk.) I do not know where this is going but I do know that within myself I miss relaxed conversation about anything and everything. With Debbie’s presence I can have that conversation and comfort. I hope this feeling does not escape from me. I hope it does not escape from us.

Ten weeks or so later and I feel as though I have known her longer. I can tell her my stories without fear of boring her. She tells me her stories and I listen with great interest. We have a lifetime of stories to tell each other.

We only just met. So what is up with that? When see sends me a text message I have to respond even though it may not require a response. When we are chatting I am comfortable with her silence until a new thought appears. We tease each other like young people do – not vicious teasing, it is light, warmhearted and fun loving teasing.

Where is this going? Where are we going? I should take my own advice and Carpe the damn Diem. I will and I am. I am grateful that Deborah is seizing it with me. I am grateful that we found each other.

Carpe Diem.

When Disaster Happens

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As I was watching the news about the continuing wild fires in and around Los Angeles this morning one man was helping his father-in-law who he revealed later in an interview with Gayle King had Parkinson’s disease to get away from the fire coming down the hill. It broke my heart so I turned off the news program and thought about him and them.

In my part of the world about 10 inches of snow is sitting on everything and a couple inches is expected. Melting water is truly annoying also but not life threatening. I have heard from a couple of the residents in our little condo community about dripping water. Ice and snow build up in and on the architectural features and drip. Sometimes the drips are annoying. Welcome to home ownership.

For me the furnace quit working early in the morning with 5 inches of snow on the ground and another 5 still on the way. Nothing to be done there except put on warmer clothing. And thank the architects and builders who insulated the building properly. They did not skimp on that part. My favorite repair guy came when he was able. My girlfriend called in the morning to make sure I had not turned into a Popsicle. I slept later than usual. Cool bedrooms do that to me. (Maybe an AHA moment?)

Shit happens. (Forrest Gump.)

How we react to those situations explains what is important to us. One gentleman is helping his father-in-law who is unable to walk very well with his PD. Eventually as he tells Gayle he sat him down on his walker and pushed out of harm’s way. All the while another person is making videos with his or her smartphone.

Disaster is grim. Some people respond with help and kindness. Some people become amateur videographers. Which one will you be? Which one are you?

The furnace is working after an injection of $1100. The temperature outside froze the ice for now. The roofers will figure it out after more dollars are given. In March there will be good stories on the patios. In Los Angeles many will be arguing with the insurance companies. In the rest of the country insurance premiums will increase. The universe is unfolding as it should.

Keep calm. Make a video if it is necessary for insurance purposes but do not ignore the situation you are recording. Be useful.

Carpe Diem.

‘tis the beginning of The Season

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The bear got his hat out yesterday. Maybe his friend the elf will show up and help celebrate soon.

On this day, however, this day before Thanksgiving Day I am thinking about our life, Cheryl’s and mine, and what a gift it was to us. Tomorrow is the day to count blessings and be thankful for what we have. For me I am also thankful for what we had.

I do not have Cheryl with me any longer but what I have instead is the knowledge that she is not suffering with Parkinson and dementia. I am thankful for that knowledge.

I do have three well educated and successful children who have built successful careers. All of the grandchildren in all of the families are healthy and happy. Some have moved into careers themselves. Some are still figuring it out for themselves but they are all self reliant. Their parents are excellent teachers. I am thankful for the family Cheryl and I made.

I do have my own health. My knees do not hurt constantly like other friends that I have. My hips do not hurt when I walk like others that I know. I was still able to hike four miles up and down the face of a wooded cliff-side in Kentucky. (My legs complained a bit afterward but the bourbon worked. I bought real hiking boots when I returned home.) In the summertime I spent many days riding 15 – 20 miles on my bike. (I am not fast but I can keep up 12 – 15 mph for long stretches. I am not in a hurry. I like to look around me while I ride.) I would like to lose a little weight but my physic will probably never be like what I was at twenty-five now that I am seventy-five. I am thankful for my health.

My sister and I have become much closer. Only she and I are left from our original family. She and I are both widowed and that is sad but it seems like we lean on each other a bit and that is helpful to both of us. I am very thankful for our relationship.

I am thankful for all the help we received from friends and family this past year as Cheryl’s health rapidly declined. I am thankful to all the kind folks at Bridgeway Pointe and Queen City Hospice that took care of Cheryl as she faded. Thank you all.

I am thankful for new friends and old friends who have helped me through the past year.

I am thankful for kindness in the world.

I am thankful that mom taught me a few basic cooking techniques when I was younger and I did not realize she was doing it.

I am thankful that I like to cook and that I like my own cooking. (See the physic comment above.)

I am thankful that things always seem to work out.

I am thankful that I am getting better at staying in the present and not experiencing anxiety for the future. This quote from Matthew pops into my head sometimes (it is true!) when I think about what comes next. [“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.”] I thank Cheryl for teaching me this concept of staying present and Mom for pointing out self-reliance goes hand in hand with that.

Mom left me with a gift that I will always be thankful for. I wrote this paragraph sometime ago:
At the very end of her life my mother awakened for a few minutes as I was sitting with her in her room at Bridgeway Pointe which is an assisted living community where she lived out the last fifteen months of her life. When I walked into her room Mom was quietly dozing in her bed. I sat in the usual chair I sat in and waited to see if she would awaken. It was after her dinner time and she often took a nap after dinner. After a few minutes, maybe half an hour, she woke up and looked over at me. She did not have her glasses on but she said, “Paul, is that you?” I replied, “Yes it’s me.” And then she said something that I was not expecting. She said, “Thank you for all your help.” After that she dozed off again. It was the last conversation I had with my mother. She passed away a couple days later. It still makes me cry.

I am thankful that I was helpful to Mom. She acknowledged that to me. All I could say to her was, “you’re welcome.” And I sat in her darkened room as she dozed off again.

We should always be thankful for what we have and what we have had and what we may be given. When someone is helpful to you, acknowledge it and say thanks to them. (Do not whine about it if they are unhelpful – reread the Matthew quote.)

Carpe Diem.