3 People I Would Like To Find On Facebook

There are a couple of people I have lost touch with over the years that I would love to reconnect with and have NO earthly idea how to find them. My list is below. What’s yours and why?

1. Sharon Stewart – my first love. She and her parents use to vacation at my grandparents hotel every summer. We ‘dated’ for one week every year for years. I know she got married, but have no idea of her married name.

2. Frank Ford – now there’s a name too common to search for. Frank and I were best buds in Military School. We lost touch a few years after high school. He always made me laugh.

3. Laura Harris – one of the kindest, thoughtful people I ever knew. Her father was the doctor that brought me into this world. Laura went off to the College of Charleston and we lost touch after college.

So, what about you?

Top 15 Southern Holiday Gathering Truths

1. That favorite dish your mom makes is still as good as you remember.

2. Somebody in the family is in trouble with the law again this year.

3. You are probably the only one driving a Honda.

4. Smoking is still expected inside at all times.

5. There is NOT, no matter how much we talk about it, an annual family tradition.

6. You will be expected to participate in the annual family tradition.

7. You are expected at Christmas if you didn’t visit for Thanksgiving.

8. Football will be explained with hunting analogies.

9. Hunting will be explained with football analogies.

10. There will be no raw, steamed, green or leafy vegetables at the holiday table.

11. There is always something that needs to be fetched from the store.

12. You will talk for hours and never really say anything.

13. No matter how hard you try not to, you will spend hours trying to figure out what everyone is really saying.

14. You are related to everyone there and you won’t know several people.

15. Everyone there loves each other as best they know how.

And, You will either leave this holiday gathering thinking your family is a dysfunctional tragedy or the funniest assortment of people you could ever imagine – it totally depends on you.

Home Coming of Female Progeny

My daughter, now living in L.A., is coming home for a Thanksgiving visit. She arrives today.

We have a tradition of sorts - breakfast together at The Bagel Station. I'm hungry already!

What Makes a Woman Beautiful?

There is little in this world more beautiful than someone who takes care of themselves in order to be able to care for someone else.

I overheard a woman discussing her recent workout routine with a friend. Her goal was to increase her upper body strength in order to better lift and care for her handicapped child.

Beautiful woman.

Waving Goodbye

A Child

Pats the water with her foot

Ripples

Spread gently, caressing the surface

Gliding outward, searching for shore

Fading to smooth

Tiny toes

Break the fluid plain

Movement

Life upon the stillness

Reaching

Longing

Hoping for a place to land

Again and again

Each gentle touch fades

Weakened waves reaching

Never touching the distant sand

Destination

SPLASH!

Surges churn turbulence of sea

Arms and legs violate the stillness

Liquid rage calls

To the depths

Unknown concentric waves

Demanding, diminishing, stopping

Stillness

Descending shimmers

Calming the spot

Closing the circle

Cessation

Now

On a distant shore

Small ripples lap the sand

Lap the sand

Home

-Once, an Adolescent that I knew took her own life. This poem is dedicated to Cathy.

My Life Is Waffle House!?

It is very interesting what one can learn from listening.

I treated my appetite and ignored my need for low a cholesterol diet (shhhh! If you don’t tell my doctor, it doesn’t count), and had breakfast at Waffle House "the other day." As I ate, I listened.

Karen is in her mid thirties, has two children and hates it when her kids stay home for snow days. She drives an older Nissan. She has a small space between her two front teeth that she tries to hide by rolling her lip over them when she is laughing. It doesn’t work.

The cook, an all but kid in his twenties, plans to get his GED this year and then study at the community college, or maybe join the Navy. He likes his job, and doesn’t cook rubber eggs. I think that is considered an accomplishment. I know my eggs were very tasty. I think his name is Mack, or Mick. He didn’t have on a name tag.

Betty is clearly the matriarch of the group. She smiles as she listens to the banter of the ‘younger’ staff. She moves effortlessly from one task to the next, often working ahead of the others. She greets regulars by their first name, or with a knowing nod. Her under the cuff comments to the others often brings a smile or a giggle. Betty is, and wants to be the Queen of the WaffleHouse.

As I sat at the counter, eating my cheese eggs, grits and butter soaked raisin toast, gazing at the laminated menu pictures of the many heart-stopping, artery clogging, cholesterol enhanced foods, this thought crossed my mind: Is there really a difference between any of our lives, other than the package that that life might reside in?

Time Will Tell

Situation: A couple, newly together, watches a DVD together. She falls asleep half-way through. The next morning he sends her an email…

“Thank you so much for last night. It is wonderful to have someone who thinks enough of me to watch what I wanted to see. I know you don’t like horror that much. You were obviously very tired. I’m delighted you were comfortable enough with me to fall asleep. I wore the same shirt today because you left a tiny bit of drool on my sleeve and I wanted to keep you close. See you tonight.”

Same couple, same evening, five years later…

“I don’t get you! Not only do you not care about anything I want to watch but you fell asleep on my favorite shirt and drooled all night! Next time, just go to bed. I’ll be home at 7:00.”

Same couple, same evening, 15 years…

“Enjoyed the movie. I dropped off the laundry (I got something on my shirt). Did you take the DVD back? Pick up something else when you go – one of your favorites this time. Oh, I’ll be home at 5:30, do you want to go out for dinner? You pick.”

The One Word for Access to Success

Yoda said it this way, “There is no try. Only do or do not.”

Nike said, “Just Do It!”

The word is out, and yet we too often keep using it. My days are busy rushing to get things done, and someone asks me to do one more thing. Instinctively, I hedge my commitment with, “I’ll try.” A colleague offers a valid improvement in my technique and suggests that I make a change. Hesitantly I agree, “O.K. I’ll try.”

The difference e between saying “try” and “do” may seem subtle, but it is powerful.

Find a pencil or pen right now.

Yes. Really. Go find one.

Set the pencil on the table in front of you. Now ‘try’ and pick it up. Fact is, either you did it, or you didn’t. Yoda is right. There is no try. Try is something we are not committed to doing.

My suggestion for today is that we stop saying ‘try’ and make the commitment to do things we need to do, or simply want to do. Proclaiming “I’ll do it” may lead us to failure, but failure is the friction that makes success possible – and that is another post…

Do It!

I Found Myself Humming

I found myself

Humming into the mattress

With you

It was an accidental thing

An exhale that sent a slight vibration

Through the sheets

I enjoyed the sound

The sense

Of my humming

Beside you – with you

The vibrant ripples made me giggle

And roll joyfully

Leaving all tension and dis-ease

I found myself

Humming into the mattress

Thank you

A Story to Tell...

The sun cast shadows upon the meadow, long tendrils entwining the branches of distant trees into a single shadow.

An aging warrior sat upon a rock overlooking the rolling fields that lead to his town and home, allowing his thoughts to cast their own shadows, collecting into one thought: "How much longer can I do this?"

With effort he lifted his weight and stood facing west. He felt the pain surge through his broken knee, again and the skin burn beneath newly forming scabs on his back. He stood and prayed aloud.

"Odin, my guard and guide. For 50 seasons I have live here. For 36 of these years I have fought the Beast into submission, sending its weakened body and depleted spirit back into the caves to sleep and heal through the winter. I wield sword and shield in Your name and provide safety for my home, my family, my village. Each year I fail to destroy the Beast and like the certainty of each spring it returns. I am tired and wounded and this time I fear tired beyond the recent battle and am wounded of not only body, but spirit. How long, Odin, how long can I continue?"

The warrior gave into his pain and stumbled again sitting, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword and brow upon his forearm. He could hear the music and singing beginning already, drifting across the darkening meadow in celebration of his apparent victory. He knew better. He knew that the beast would live and in a few months they would renew their battle, and he doubted his ability to endure. He felt not only the pain of his new injuries, injuries that would heal, but the weakness in his limbs from healed and scared damages of battles past.

Tonight the village would sing. Tankers of ale would be hoisted in his honor. The voices of maidens would sing and young men would weave another chapter in the tale of his valor. Their Hero was invincible. The winter would be safe.

But next season would come and the fight, his fight would continue.

A breeze lifted his thinning hair and he raised his head.

"Odin," He spoke almost a whisper, "Tonight we will celebrate. I will not worry about the aging of my bones, or the weakening of my strength. Tonight I will give you thanks for our victory, another year of safety. But, tomorrow I will not lift tankers of ale or songs. I will forget the victories of the past, and I will prepare for the battles to come. I will lift wet-stone and blade, shield and arm and back to the work of a warriors training. I will not quit. Odin, you have my word and my life."

As the last word drifted away on the breeze, a tired man stood and began walking to the village.


Note: This story came to me this weekend as I finished hours of yard work. The fall cooling of the air is here, and I was aware that the hard work of yet another summer is almost at end. The respite of the fall and winter will soon be here - only to give way, soon enough to another year... I know there are a limited number of years left in my life when I can manage the hard and relentless work of maintaining our home, and I wondered...