memories

Kilo 8 Kilo Bravo Kilo

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Yesterday as I spent time paying bills electronically a conformation code from my bank began with KBK. It made me think about my older and only brother.

When I was much much younger, fourteen to be precise, I took all the testing and successfully received an amateur radio license. My brother Bill had achieved that many years prior. His call sign was K8KBK or as he often said, and I can still hear his voice, kilo number eight kilo bravo kilo. Dad was also a ham radio operator. His call sign was K8JZA. With my success I became WA8PRQ.

It is interesting to me how earlier experiences in life influence situations later in life. Early analog radio communication was often full of scratchy static and in order to clarify that communication a mnemonic was added after the original series of letters.

“Hello, CQ, Hello CQ, this is K-8-K-B-K, kilo number eight, kilo, bravo, kilo.” This is a request for contact of a non-emergency nature. CQ is Morse code shorthand for: calling all stations that are able to hear me. Ham radio folks just like to yak a lot. I used to have a key much like the picture. I could not get proficient with the dual key. We had one but I did not like it. I could do about 15 words a minute with this J38 style. Those days are other memories.

To this day, if I see WTF in a text message, in my head, I translate that to Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Other leftovers from my Morse code days include TNX for thanks. Text messages from young people are often full of cryptic hieroglyphic-like emoticons and pictures of vegetables. The old Egyptians would be proud.

My ham radio days with Dad appeared in my head last summer while wandering through my time without Cheryl and wondering what to do with my time. I thought to develop old interests and maybe make new friends. Something that I was looking at caused the Facebook lunacy checker to send me a teaser about the American Radio Relay League (ARRL) and memories from teenagerhood came flooding into my head about QSL cards, Field Days, portable communications, hidden transmitter hunts and the Oh-Ky-In clubhouse which is now part of the I-275 loop around Cincinnati.

The memories are numerous and fond. I got excited and sent them money to get the current books to study up get a license back which made me wonder if I could get my original call sign back. I have not found that out, yet. When the books turned up a week or so later, I wondered what I was thinking about when I ordered them.

Life is like that when your anchor gets disconnected from the chain as mine was. The summer moved on and so did I. The books look good on the shelf next to other technical references of greater but passing interest. Once an engineer, always an engineer.

Cheryl was not interested in any of that but she was if I was. These days I write and read and read and write and wonder if I will ever get certain students to understand certain engineering topics and translate a control diagram into a physical circuit (that works.) I have over time morphed into an instructor at a community college near me. It has become over time either more of an interest or less of an interest depending upon which day. Life is full of ups and downs.

I think I have found a new anchor, a person to be with, a listener, a friend, a place to feel comfortable and home.

We read and I write and we text and we talk. She teaches me the meaning of various glyphs (emojis). She admonishes me for the incorrect use of other glyphs. We have fun and enjoy each other’s company.

I think I have mentioned that before in other posts here.

I have fond memories of my earlier days. It has taken this past year and a few strategic moves and removals for me to mainly think about the great times in my life.

Reminders of recent sad times are still here and there. They are just not in the front row any longer.

Carpe Diem.

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/

Questions for God and other Thoughts

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The Grief Share topic for this meeting was “Questions for God.” For me I was grateful that the universe accepted Cheryl back into its keeping. I am sad, of course, for the loss of her companionship and love but there is no value to complaining to God and cursing the existence of the universe. It just is. It (or He) has no grievance with our existence. Why should we wonder why? That concern uses a lot of time but adds nothing.

The video makes early reference to the Book of Job (which I have always heard as joeh-B long O). This sent my mind off into the task of reading the Bible and its stories. In the Book of Job, the first of the poetic books, in my New American Bible is spelled j-o-b and Job did a good job at the beginning of the story and at the end of the story. In the middle he did not waste any breath on cursing the universe that he knew as God for all the unfortunateness that happened to him. Shit happens. He said, “When one door closes, another, maybe better one opens.” I paraphrased. Because he had that attitude, God chased away Satan and did not smote his asses any longer.

God even accepted Job’s praise and forgiveness of his drinking buddies Bildad, Eliphaz and Zophar after they told Job, of course God crapped on you. You crapped on us. It is good to have friends to explain alternative truths and help you to think about things. In the 28th verse, Job talks about how it is easy to dig ore and smelt metal and grow crops but getting wisdom is a bitch. It takes time and patience and then one still does not attain wisdom (smarts about life.) It is like reading Michael Lewis talk about markets and baseball.

I think I get a different take on stories I read in the Bible. (… Kish said to Saul, “Take a servant with you and go out to find your asses…”) Find an older copy of The New American Bible – 1 Samuel 9:3

Mom would have said, “Pull up your socks!” about Job’s predicament but she did not write any books for the Bible. It took me much of my life before I understood what she meant by this phrase. My interpretation of her thought is, you can pray about it but you have to help. Job says much the same thing, albeit, with a lot more words. In Job 40:7 “ Gird up your loins, like a man. I will question you and your will give me answers!” These days we would say, “Get your shit together, Dude! Grow a pair!”

Job lived to be 140. Mom lived to be 95. Both were intelligent loved people.

Sorry, I have wandered off the beam – the video makes early reference to the Book of Job but the discussion is the questions that many ask after death, Why? Is my faith shattered? Is there an afterward? An afterlife? Is there a reincarnation? The Bible tells all. It also has a lot of great war stories and poetry.

I do not wonder why Cheryl died. She was very ill for a long time. If anything I wonder how she hung on for so long. I do not wonder why she became ill. Many people become ill and eventually die. Everyone dies eventually. I personally just hope it won’t hurt much.

I hope our spirits will connect again somehow.

Do I miss her? Absolutely everyday, I miss her. These days, I have a new person in my life to aim my love at. She is off vacationing with her kids and grand kids. I miss her also.

We are destined to miss those who touch us and connect with us in life. It is a source of heartache, home-sickness and bereftness. We miss those to whom we have a strong connection. It is love with no place to go.

Carpe Diem.

The Last Service to Her

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I finished filing our income tax stuff today.  I had put it off for a long time. I knew I (we) would owe this year. She helped me by keeping her Met Life stock in an account I had forgotten about. It was enough to cover what we owed.

Curiously as I was finishing up the state return it (Turbo Tax) asked for her state ID number. I found her purse in the drawer it’s been in for a year and fished out her ID. I suddenly realized that I was not going to need this information any longer. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that this is the last thing that I needed to do for her. This is the last time we file jointly. I became suddenly sad and I am still a little as I write this. It is a grief ambush. They pop up every now and then.

Part of that sadness came when I had to fill in the date of issuance and the date of renewal. Cheryl did not make it to her birthday last year. This nuance reminded me of a conversation I had with her youngest brother a week or two before her death. I cried at both of these thoughts.

I pushed send in the Turbo Tax website and got in the car to go visit Cheryl and report that the taxes are complete. Next year I will not file jointly. It is the last thing that I will do for her and that fact makes me a little sad today.

This has been a year for lasts. This has been a year for firsts.

It is the first year of my life without Cheryl. Sometimes that hits me hard. I am a work in progress.

Carpe Diem.

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.

Toaster Ovens

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Far be it from me to criticize the American appliance industry but I often wonder what jumped into the engineering head of folks who decided a toaster oven was a much needed appliance.  Having a small oven is handy in its own way but why call it a toaster? Why temp us toast lovers with the ability to get warm morning toast when one actually gets the stale bread a week later.

Indeed toasted bread can be achieved in several different ways with one critical ingredient, great heat applied for a short or relatively short period of time. Toaster ovens are unable to do either. Generally they fit into the vast category of “Almost A Great Idea” or AAGI (aw-gee) for short. At one time in the past we owned a toaster oven which also had the ability to roast a chicken. It had a built in rotisserie gizmo to spear the chicken with and rotate through the meager heat source. (aw-gee) After much trial and error we determined that the timer needed to be able to set itself to much more than the 45 minutes on the dial. The heat source warm up is include in this time since it is not instant on. (Alas and aw-gee)

Many devices fit into AAGI. Instapots and Airfriers might be two more. But often it is fun and necessary to use a device with a small heat source that supplies invaluable cleaning expertise and practice.

Microwave ovens supply this valuable expertise as they are able to rapidly take water from liquid to gas in a rice-sized pocket spreading soup or any other suitable substance over the entire inner surface while keeping the rest of the bowl at the temperature of a standard refrigerator. They are remarkable devices. If you ever require rubberized eggs for any recipe, a low wattage microwave is just the perfect solution.

All of these thoughts came to over the past several days as I pondered another stale bread morning in my nephew’s beautiful, quaint and cute little bungalow in Port St. Joe, Florida. My sister and my girlfriend and I spent three wonderful days there this past week.

We drove in my car so we did not have the wonderful packing experience of making everything fit into one suitcase. We took our time. We stopped occasionally to look for best toilet facilities. We visited Bukee’s in Alabama. No soft serve ice cream at Bukee’s which is a sad state of affairs. (aw-gee) We stopped at the Shrimp Lady which claims to be restaurant-ish on Google Maps. It is not but we bought 2 pounds of shrimps as big as my thumb that came off the boat 20 – 30 minutes previously. Over the next couple of days we ate them as shrimp and cheesy grits, and shrimp with garlic, onion, green pepper and spaghetti with marinara and generous Parmesan cheese.

Did the two most important women in my life just bring me along to cook and drive the car? It was a great trip.

Back to the toaster oven. It is a fine device in its own way but entirely unsatisfactory for making toast in the morning. The Nespresso Virtuo, however, makes excellent coffee one cup at a time, every time, as long as the special pods and a water source are nearby. Foamy luxurious coffee.

We are back home in Ohio. The forsythia in the back is just opening itself. The daffodils are poking up and wondering what the forsythia can see that they cannot. The forest view through my window is greenish against the browns and grayness.

Daylight saving? Time is here. And as Debbie says, “the light is returning to the planet”

I am off to ponder a method of saving the daylight and fold the laundry from the trip.

Carpe Diem.

More To The Story

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Cheryl was very supportive through this period of my life. When she came home and found me frantic in my desperation about something as silly as a job she yelled at me. “Yell” is my term for her showing a great deal of concern. She was very worried about me. I was stuck in my own bad situation and needed to get out of it.

Looking back through the lens of thirty years it is easy for me to notice how I slowly let myself get trapped in an untenable situation. That will not happen again.

Carpe Diem.

Life Long Learning

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Don’t Sit on the Sticker Bushes! Good advice! Something Cheryl was looking at on TV prompted this comment from her. She was just starting down the road to dementia. Odd comments and visions would come to her but we had been together too long and I loved her to much to leave her unaided. Life is full of little surprise comments. Sometimes funny some times not. They can punctuate our lives and section off unhappy or anxious feelings from the good times. Long ago now, Jerry came in and said, “There are more things today that don’t mean shit than ever before!” then he left my office.

The Valco Saga

Mistakes in life are made but if there is a plan, they are all part of the plan or not. Perhaps there is no plan per se. Perhaps it is actually a vision. The universe is a continuum. In 1990 I was employed by Cincinnati Milacron in Cincinnati, the machine tool capital of the world in many respects. I had spent 18 years of my life at Cincinnati Milacron. I came for five and stayed eighteen. A stalwart old line Cincinnati company that was the gold standard of machine tool manufacturers. Cincinnati Milacron no longer exists. Remnants of the old company do, the largest of which is simply called Milacron today. Then, however, it seemed to me that CM was dying a slow death. Occasionally I looked elsewhere for a different position.

It is much like looking for a new wife after tiring of the old wife. It is also not part of my make-up when I say that to myself. I am easily entrenched in life. Cheryl and I had been married twenty years by this time. My fortieth trip around Sol was within view. Was I too old to find another position that I was passionate about? I was not certain, nor was I willing to give up, and I was not in a grass is greener mode, I was looking to the future and wondering, what if? CM was downsizing without a vision, it seemed from my perspective. Was there a future?

A good friend that had gotten caught in the shrinkage called me one day with a lead. The head electrical wizard at the little company at which he landed had died and they where on the hunt for a new head electrical engineer. I did not realize that the head electrical person would be working directly for one half of the partnership that owned and ran the company.

Rich, the half of the partnership that eventually came to be my boss, was a know-it-all. Two weeks into the new job, I began to wonder about the wisdom of my decision to accept the position of chief electrical engineer. The previous holder of the position I had never met but he had, according to hearsay, and even Rich’s own mouth, a bit of a drinking problem. At the very least he was more gregarious than I, but most importantly, he had the protection of half of the owning partnership. I did not.

From 1990 to 1994 I worked for this little company in southwest Ohio called Valco Cincinnati. They manufacture adhesive application equipment for the packaging and other industries and like many small companies they were growing by acquisition. Theirs was an interesting application of control electronics. And the job of steering that was a giant leap of faith for me.

Office Life can be Challenging

From the perspective of 25 years later, one might imagine that the memories would fade. They do but I took notes of various kinds along the way. Mostly funny little things people would say. Engineers and technical folks are a cynical group. Most are conservative decision makers. Me included. Most carry thoughts in the background of “prove it to me” or “Oh yeah? Show me.” It is part of the nature of an engineer. If the math works, they will believe it.

I had kept a journal on and off through my life and towards the end of my tenure at Valco I wrote more. I imagine Scott Adams started down this same road at PG&E, except that he was better at it. He turned it into a career. I kept funny memos that the ownership and other managers would publish. The pointy haired boss in Dilbert reminds me of one half of the ownership, of Rich, the half that hired me.

After I was terminated, fired, sacked; a friend and colleague took all my notes from what he referred to as the “wall of shame” and collected them in a cast-off binder and sent them to me. This friend is the Jerry I refer to in the quote above. He had more insight into the workings of a privately held company than I gave him credit for at the time.

It may sound corny but these notes are precious to me. They chronicle my time there. These little messages are in addition to my journaling. Termination from a less than satisfactory job was a much needed learning experience. That I was terminated was disappointing but I now believe that everyone should be terminated at some time in their life. It is devastating. But it helps you to find inner strength. And often a better situation. At the very least it gives you perspective about what has importance and what is unimportant to you.

In this particular instance I had worked myself into a particularly odd funk. I sought help when I found myself contemplating what to do to end it all. I may have also begun to understand why the previous owner of this job had a drinking problem. I was developing my own. Between my family doctor and a psychiatrist friend of his we had attached the name of acute situational depression to my condition. It does not have to be chronic but it can be fatal. All of these sad and dark feelings occurred behind an apparently happy guy.

The Wall of Shame

Some statements transcend time and space and Jerry’s comment, “There are more things today that don’t mean shit than ever before!” is one of those. A universal theory that becomes a truth by demonstration and consistency. There are many of these.

Somewhere during my debilitating Valco experience I received one of those cute little desk calendars with an engineer saying on it for each day. Some of those I kept after I had scissored off the date. Engineering always lives in a cube farm. The walls of which made great bulletin boards. It is on of the few things I miss about working as an engineer, posting stuff on the wall for commentary by others. Much like Facebook but much more intimate and personal.

A favorite: WESTHEIMER’S RULE: To estimate the time to do a task, estimate the time you think it should take, multiply by two and change the unit of measure to the next higher unit,. Thus we allocate two days for a one hour task. — (I added) — and predict April 15th as the finish date. I thought of April 15th merely because it was two weeks hence from the time of the original posting on the wall. It was only later that someone pointed out to me that April 15 had significance to the other half of the partnership. As I started the wall, others came by and helped. Many added sayings that they had tripped over in memos or simply spoke out loud. Some of the guys would be very careful about what they said around my cubicle.

This actually got better as I and others continued to collect little remarks that people say to each other in an office or elsewhere in the vein of the old sage wise sayings.

At the end of a memo written to encourage moving on with some decision: … I BELIEVE THAT WE HAVE A WINNER IF WE MAKE THESE CHANGES AND WE SHOULD PROCEED WITHOUT HASTE (sic) I have no idea why it is written in all caps. I do not have the rest of the memo. I like the thought though — damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead BACKWARDS!

Another: Papoose (def) — consolation prize for taking a chance on an Indian blanket. [anon] And another – God hates a coward!

One of my personal favorites: “We’ll just come to that bridge when we cross it!” spoken by our service manager at the time, Larry, after a meeting. It might be the first time I started to write down misspoken comments by others. This is profoundly true if you stop to ponder it.

And the wall grew and grew. 1993 Exploded with all of these gems and in some cases I categorized them because context became more important.

I wonder how they put up with me? — Dave

The bigger the orifice the more shit you get out! — Randy

I never drink under the influence. — Scott

There is no group that takes more time away from family life than the Church! — R. Cloud

It looks reasonably promising (fence sitter) — Lance

People are clueless! — Todd

Jack Shit running loose is NOT a good thing! — J. Lutterbie

Some animals aren’t trainable — Jay

Not all boats will rise with the tide. (stock market) — Don

… a frozen semi-state (the fifth state of matter)– Jim

(sensitivity, empathy) He’s about as sensitive as fire ants crawling up your ass. — Mike

ADVICE – help that you don’t want to give out — Dean

It’s one of those loose T&E’s — B. Nolting

Give them lips a rest young co-op — Paul

Nothing comes from being stupid in public — Jerry

(control theory) The temperature is set on 75, the thermostat reads 67, everything’s fine. — L Marsh

(Social commentary) Stereotypes are typically based on observation — Mike

(Administration’s statement of the obvious) Everybody’s busy or they’re gone! — Jim Bornhorst

(Conversation) Are you coming back later? we’re having Karaoke tonight. — No thanks I’m on a low fat diet.

1994 brought:

(life commentary) Will we ever understand anything? — Jerry

(Electrostatic discharge) If we’d just clean up management there’d be a lot less static around here. — Gene

(why things often do not work) We didn’t load the bogus values correctly. — Dave

(obviousness) That’s going to be blank unless we put something on it! — R Woolf

His reality contact is a little low. — Kappeler

(fence sitter) I think I’ve got this somewhat under control. — Kathy

Some things you get for free you can’t afford. — Keith

God, what a Fu-Fu this has been!

It was relatively impressive. If that makes any sense. — Jerry

Fuck this place. — Paul

It was a lot easier when we didn’t have to deal with the Germans. — Paul

The last page of Jerry’s memoir to me was written by the best of the best when it came to folks that I have worked with through the years. He is truly a special person. His final words: So you have to be aware that if Bornhorst sacks you because he can’t decide how else to suck up to Greg, understand that it is your fault that some projects turned to crap. For a while at least I was pissed at Jim Bornhorst but then I realized that, as a friend once said, nothing good comes from being stupid in public. I hold those words dear. Jim probably was getting rid of me because he was told to do it and whether that was the truth of the matter or not, it was a distinction with no difference. Eventually I came to realize that being let go was actually a good day.

And in 1994 we were concerned about Global Warming but doing nothing.

The Silver Lining

This experience caused my brother to reach out to me.

Bill called me in 1994 after I had been terminated from my job with Valco. I do not remember him calling me much. It was the other way around in my memory. So, his call was a surprise.

He called me, he said to offer some advice. He said, ” You have to decide what you are going to charge.” ‘Charge for what?’ I replied. They are going to trip over some problem that they will need you to fix, because they did not know they had it. Something you would have just handled. They will try to get you to do it for nothing but its a temp job. Figure out how much you are going to charge to fix their problem.

Every worker should be fired at some point in their life. It is not very much fun while it is happening but it is an excellent learning experience. You get down on yourself. What did I do wrong? How will I go on? If you are part of the engineering staff of a company, you often operate under the illusion that you are part of the management cadre. Nothing could be further from the truth. You are a worker bee like everyone else. Your work however is to think, design, plan and create the product.

Bill’s little advice made me realize my value. Anything I did had a price. And that price was value for my time, experience, problem solving ability, cleverness and elegance of design. More importantly that price included time away from things, family, people and situations that might be more important to me than doing some job that the only tangible benefit was a pay check. He had put it in perspective. Life is too short.

Indeed! In retrospect it is unsatisfactory to harbor ill will to anyone. Better things come to you if you spend little time angry and upset about such a small thing as getting sacked. Trust the universe to center itself once more and make better things happen but you have to help. Do not sit on your hands.

More Silver

This all happened long ago. I learned from this experience that not everything happens for a reason. Some events occur because idiots gain control for a time. Most of the time if one can see past the immediate hurt, one discovers that a better existence is ahead.

I still collect sayings and phrases that engineers use. Dilbert is a favorite comic although Scott Adams is far enough away from daily existence at PG&E that often his take on office life is not as funny as it once was. Perhaps I too am older and less connected.

Some memos and silly comments were forwarded to me after I was gone. If only I could draw cartoons.

I rewrote and edited this story in response to a writing prompt that appeared in a newsletter email that I receive on a regular basis. The prompt is – This week write about a major shift you lived through, one in which suddenly so many otherwise stable details of your life dramatically changed, beyond your control, for better or worse. (Sometimes these changes can be for the better, directly or inadvertently.)

What or who ushered this shift into your life? What did your world look like before? What did it look like during and after the shift? Were you powerless in the face of it? Or did you play a role? How did you feel about it? Did your feelings about that shift change over time? If you could go back and undo the shift, would you? Why?

Don’t sit on the sticker bushes!

Carpe Diem.

Valentines Day

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And Sweetest Day are arbitrary celebrations that I do not get. If you are someone who thinks those are important I apologize for any offense you may get from this essay but why did you focus on one single day? Well maybe two? Why not celebrate that relationship, that connection every day that it exists?

Valentines Day seems to celebrate sugar and chocolate. Sweetest seems to celebrate flowers. The months that each are in, February is filled with frantic anticipation of warmth returning and, October, dread of warmth leaving the Earth seem to posess little reason for flowers and candy. Nevertheless, clever marketers have made up a reason and then filled it.

Tony Decouple was badgered by Nick and Gayle on CBS the other morning when they had run out of mudslides, fires, snow and Donald to talk about. Tony is not a fan of a big deal special day as I am not nor is Debbie. And when Cheryl was with me she was not or pretended to be as she discovered how poor I was at acknowledging dates. I have had my wedding anniversary ingraved inside my wedding ring since day one.

My term for it is date dyslexsia. Many of you will say just write it on the calendar. That works but what if you have calendar dyslexia too?

Debbie and I spent time together yesterday. We had lunch and enjoyed the cold but sunny day here in southwestern Ohio. Discussed movies and kids but did not exchange candy and gifts. Maybe we are older and wiser and less enamored with the made up marketing ploys. (Maybe I screwed up.)

We first met after Sweetest Day last year so that dyslexic event was not an issue.

Carpe every Diem.

Christmas 2024

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I opened this page to write about my thoughts and feelings this Christmas Day this year this 2024 this time without Cheryl. How do I feel?

Rested for one. I had an enjoyable dinner with my son and his wife and their two sons. I left their house in time for Rudolph and the team to get started without me watching. Here at home I read for a short time and went to my bed with visions of sugar plums, etc. You get it.

I feel a definite lack of enthusiasm in me. I suppose that is normal.

The apparent traverse in the sky of the sun has changed but the morning light is gray. It is overcast and still dark. Thank the lord for Rudolph’s nose.

It will take an extra effort on my part to get my mood out of the doldrums.

I am not feeling it yet but when I think of the saying framed on my granddaughter’s apartment wall in Chicago “Carpe the Damn Diem”, it makes me smile.

I have wrapped all the presents that I have to deliver today and stopped to think of each of them while I was cutting and folding and taping. They are very special to me.

I miss Cheryl today. That is normal. I do not feel bad or sad or anxious or down. I miss her and her holiday enthusiasm.

(“Sometimes love does not look like what you had in mind.” – Anne Lamott)

Perhaps this is one of those days. Perhaps love will surprise me if I look for it in those around me. Perhaps it will wash over me if I let it. Perhaps.

Carpe the damn Diem!