Somewhere in Time

There is a great movie titled "Somewhere in Time", starring the ever beautiful Jane Seymour and the late Christopher Reeves. Rent it sometime and watch it with your spouse. However, this post isn't about that movie.

This weekend I went back to where I was born, raised, and raised hell. It was Memorial Day weekend, and like most American families, we had our big cookout saturday at the home of my sister. I am so proud of my sister. She made a lot of mistakes growing up (choices of boyfriends, husbands, careers, teen pregancy, financial struggles, poor self image) but has really turned her life around in the last decade. Has two great daughters and her husband is a good guy. They just built a nice pool and are doing well economically, so she had the whole family come over and enjoy the day.

Her daughters are in college and all their friends came as well. It was quite humorous when they started drinking lite beer (yuck) and I pulled out my Shiner Bock. They didn't even know what kind of beer it was. They were smoking cigarettes or swisher's, and I pulled out my Punch Primo cigar, lit it up and kicked back like the wise dude I am. When querried about my brand of beer and smoke, I told 'em I'm getting to the age where I don't know if I got minutes or years left, and by god I aint' gonna be caught dead with cheap beer or cigars. They just laughed. And kept laughing even after I drank 'em under the table with Padron Agave Tequila shots. I told 'em I have had more practice so it was kind of unfair.

Anyway, before all of this, I awoke at 6:15 a.m. My great aunt was celebrating her 95th birthday at her church some 20 miles away from where I was staying, at 8:30a.m. with a breakfast (I guess as this age they didn't want to chance doing it at lunch time in case she didn't make it those next few hours of the day). So I got up and left everyone sleeping at the house and took off.

This is where I grew up. My hometown area. Lots of memories. The quietness of the countryside and little east texas towns was striking. Locals cautiously watched me pass with a kind of who-is-that-look and a glancing wave. I was driving a "fur-uhn car" as they call it in their East Texas venacular. Its a Toyota Camry. You don't see much of those around that part of the country. Fords, Chevys and Dodges dot the landscape. Trucks mostly. Old Union yellow dawg democrats still control the mind set of this area, and the lack of ecomonic development and the dying steel mill does much to reinforce this. The slogan "Buy American" carries a whole different meaning here. I don't have the heart to tell them their Fords have over 20% of parts made in Mexico.

I stopped by the graves of my great grandparents, my great uncle, and others. I drove to my grandparents old place just outside of town. They have passed on now, but it is still amazing to me how these sights and sounds and smells can trigger long forgotten memories. I looked over the house and the pasture (which had grown up, as young folks don't tend to keep them up like the older generations did) and then drove backroads I haven't been on in almost 20 years. I had the window down and my left arm hanging out while just driving slowly, taking it all in. The old houses I had forgotten about. Some new ones that were placed here or there over the years. The smell of cows and cut grass met my nose in a familiar, comfortable way. I turned a corner to find four or five horses walking down the road toward me. It was an instant game of chicken. They weren't budging. They just looked at me like "dude, your on our road". They finally stepped aside and let me pass. I stopped by my mom's gravesite. It is always sobering for me. I had no words.

I make it to my aunt's breakfast at 8:15 a.m. and am greeted by people I haven't seen in decades and they still remember my name. Amazing. I know I'm supposed to know them, but time and distance has darkened my memory some. They were here when I grew up. They are still here. They are the earth of this place. They came from it, toiled it, live on it and someday will return to it. I feel like an outsider, mainly due to my own self consciousness. But there is some comfort in the familiar, and it is hard to shake. I felt relaxed. Safe.

I visited, shook some hands, hugged some others, told 'em what a big success I have become away from them and they seem so proud that someone actually moved away and is fairly successful. For them, time is standing still. They do not get out much, being content with what the lord and the land has provided them. The times are tough there, but so are the people.

You can still see the past in the present. It is haunting to me. And my memories linger....somewhere in time.

Between this world and that one

Today a high school friend of mine was laid to rest. Even typing these words seems odd to me. Brain cancer. 40 years young. Two young daughters and a spouse I have never met.

We are too young to die. This girl and I. Not moments ago we were in the halls of our high school, setting in the lunch room, me cracking jokes and she pretending to be offended. Now she is but a memory. Her children a legacy of all that she was, and passed on to them. A friend who is lost to her spouse.

I thought about her today. 2pm. The time of the funeral. I haven't seen her since high school but we are a small community, and everyone knows everyone and their families as well. It is a small part of you, your past, your being that is being buried with her. We are connected in that respect.

I could not be there. Instead, I found myself at a business expo, with booths and polished professionals and freebies and drinks and ... people going on with life and commerce and superficialness. While 90 miles away a solemn service was being held. A life being honored. An opportunity for grieving and supporting.

Two worlds at the same moment. This world and that one.

And I was caught between them somehow, contemplating the strangeness of it all.
I remember riding in the big black funeral home suburban following the vehicle that was carrying my mother to her grave and watching all of the traffic and people at the convenience stores and kids in their yards with balls and bicycles and I wanted to scream at them "Don't you know that the world has stopped!!!"
But they couldn't hear my inner thoughts - as their world had not. Mine had.

Two worlds at the same moment. This world and that one.

and I think, and I remember, and I smile, as somehow my memory of her still lingers, bridging the divide - between this world, and that one.

for one more day

I received the book "For One More Day" by Mitch Albom yesterday. I finished it today. It has left me feeling oddly reflective. Its hard to explain.
You can google it and see what the plot is about. In short, if you could have one more day with someone that has past on...
It goes through the whole spectrum of feelings and thoughts one has when presented with this scenario: guilt. memories. smells. tastes. attitudes. feelings. guilt. oh and did i mention guilt?
my mom died tragically and suddenly seven years ago. huge blow. large guilt. much anger. pissed off at god. I remember our last conversion, the last time I would ever see her alive...and it makes me sad. If I had known, like the poem says, it definitely would not have been "those words" i spoke, "those actions" i took. I would have made it mean more. If "for one more day" I would change a lot.
so I have taken this view and have tried to apply it to my relationships now, with family and friends and just folks I know.
Its hard. I don't feel like doing that all the time. If my spouse were to die before I get through typing this line.... the last words and actions we had were not what I wanted them to be. "for one more day" i would change it....
but its hard.
Life gets in the way, with its weird and demanding self. It is determined that I should bend and respond to its every whelm. Sometimes, it pisses me off as well.
i don't like things the way they are, and yet I feel powerless to change them.
for one more day. if only. in only we got redo's. the chance to say "I'm sorry".
I am trying my best not to need "for one more day". but i'm human. I'm a screw up.
I don't think its possible to get it right all the time and not have any regrets.