I have good expectations.

And so, as it turns out,  Life is full of surprises, and even more full of future endeavours in which to take joy.

First of all, though, let me say that there seems to be all kinds of things out there not only happening to me, but happening to those that I truly care about all around me.

A few weeks ago, I came back to Texas and was graciously picked up by a friend at the airport, and driven to the place of my birth, where I would spend a few hours loading priceless sentimental objects, and continuing my dealings with grief from the loss of my parents.  This friend, as I tried to analyze my feelings, mentioned that she would not know what it would be like to lose a parent.  Today I learned, that this has happened, unexpectedly (that takes more from you than anything, I think) lost her Mother this weekend.

I knew what to say this time.  At least, I knew the two things to say, or maybe knew what to say because I knew exactly what comforted me the most:  first, 'sorry for your loss.'   Second, 'I'm here for you, call when you need to talk.'  These are even stronger when you know how they can express more than just words.

I actually don't expect a call in the short term, as I know all too well what she will be experiencing in the coming weeks.  I hope she does talk some when I call to check on her, as friends know when to do.  Just the right time.  Or at least mine did, and gave me their ear when I was willing.  And understood when I wasn't.

My prayers and thoughts to the Lester family during this time. 

This week, I'm traveling again.  During my travels, I feel it on my heart to visit a transplanted friend, at least until it snows, where he happens to be in upstate New York.  I want to see my friend, but I also want to meet his family; they are experiencing much, too.  I'm glad that my friend is up here with his family, and not 1600 miles away and trying to comfort and deal with things from afar.  His Mother was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer recently, and that is truly horrible.  The first time you hear of anything, it is especially difficult when it is advanced as such.  My prayers go daily to this family as they begin to learn, and for understanding.  Some things just don't make a lick of sense. 

As I travel to see them on Wednesday, it will be heavy on my heart.  I'm looking to wonderful time together with the Sitts family; my friend, their friends, and just good times.  I hope I can bring big smiles.  Or at least one big one from Texas.  Prayers.

These things make my issues of dealing with things seem small.  Dad's house needs foundation repair, probably a new roof, and the generator needing repaired all so we can end that chapter.  There are minimal items still there of sentimental value, as this last time it appeared to me to be just a house again.  The items that made a home no longer exist.  But the memories do, and I know they will always remain.  They are just easily brought to the surface at the house. 

And then there's me.  I kinda feel small and insignificant lately, and I know it is the grief still affecting me.  It is getting less significant, as I learn how to deal with the things that are directly in front of me personally.  The only thing I know how to go about things is to try, and try again, and pursue things until you know better.   Try and try again; go with what works, discard what doesn't when you can, and keep moving forward. 

I'm headed out of town again, maybe as a last long jaunt for awhile, as I have committed to and am expected back in a few weeks to start a new career path.  Sales support for power generation equipment.  This has the potential to fit me well.  It exposes me to oil and gas, has a salary, and probably just as beneificial, a normal routine that has evaded me for some time.  I think I was 'on hold' in my mind for awhile with Dad.  I wanted to be accessible, and I think that was stuck in my subconcious.  I have good expectations.

We will see where all this goes.  Prayers for those around me with trials.  Including myself.  But now, it's time for a few more baseball games, maybe a show, some good music, a roller coaster, and some good 'ol old fashioned hanging out with friends.

And the girl.  The whole reason I'm traveling this week.  Right now, she's one thing i'm not questioning.  I love how she giggles, how she smiles, and I love how her hand fits in mine. And the cool part is that she loves mine in hers, too, 'cause she told me so.  At least twice, even.   And everyone knows what that means. 

Walking Forward

A week ago I thought things were tough.  And today, I know it was.  And, today, I also know it is still going.

I have actually been talking and trying to figure out where I am in my head, in comparison to where I was in my head five years ago when I had tough times.  I can say that it's not the same in a lot of ways, but it similar in others.  Probably up there in importance is the ability to now be able to break apart things that I couldn' before, and look at things in a different perspective. 

Grief sucks.  It can knock you down when you don't expect.  It can hang out with you when you don't know it is there, and jump out in conversation.   It gets in your mind, and can make your thoughts run.   It can wear your emotions out until they want to take a nap.  Grief makes you tired, blurs your mind, strips you of confidence and motivation, and comes out on a schedule that isn't your schedule, and can embarrass you in public, and in private alike, but only if you let it embarrass.  

This time around, things are different.  Back then, i used the word numb quite often.   I'd say that that same descriptor is applicable, but I feel different.  I feel better.  I feel hopeful.  I feel like this is temporary.

I'm planning.  Can't say I did that last time.  Talking through my feelings (which I learned really helps for me) I came up with a worthy analogy.  I can see the light, and the tunnel.  I just don't know how to start walking.  And so, I'm gonna start learning to walk.

As some of you know, I started a day to day sales opportunity.  And, verification is wonderful.  I do hate walking door to door.  But it's not as bad as I thought, and you do get to meet all kinds of people.  You get to meet the nice animal clinic chick that is hellbent on life, screaming at me as I introduce myself, telling me that she would never buy anything at all from me because the person on the phone that setup the appointment was 'the rudest person she ever talked to.'  Well, I guess she wasn't rude enough herself to tell the person NO on the phone, not verify her address, and waste my time to have me stop in for an appointment.  I guess I could have been a bit more assertive, and tell her that I wouldn't take my dog in to her shop if she was the last animal clinic on the planet.  I wonder if the three people behind that walked in while she was screaming will come back after hey get their pet.

Or how about the lady with the pilates studio.  who was very nice, but blew up at me when I suggested that she could very well give a discount for new customers to come in and experience her classes.  She said she couldn't afford to give a discount to get a new customer.   Or the guy with the nail salon, who told me that he wouldn't make the $20 from a new customer from a gift card that someone else bought for them, he would only make $5, and that wasn't worth it.  Cheers, Henry, good luck on your business, that was completely empty the 2 hours I was there.

I digress.

I did, though, enjoy learning about each business, when the opportunity was there, and that is what kept me going, through the difficult parts that I didn't enjoy.  It also accomplished other things as intended, like giving me something to get out and try and work on, a routine to get out of bed, and getting out and talking to people rather than just sitting on the couch all day.   I do like talking to people, and trying to solve their problems, and help them with whatever issue they happen to be experiencing.

I had an interview yesterday with sales opportunity.  I think it will be good.  And I'm hopeful that this will get me walking foreword.

I have a few more trips to Sanger to make.  I don't think I can get the stuff in just one, but I'm gonna try.   I was having a difficult time deciding whether to go, or rather, when to go.  This weekend seemed to make the most sense, and was gonna make a Saturday Sunday run.  A friend called me at the exact moment I was thinking of her, and we decided to see a good friend on the trip.  I delayed my trip a day so Rachel could come with me, and we're gonna go see Shirley.  She isn't doing well, and this may be the time to visit.

So, I'm taking an opportunity to have someone with me this trip to Dad's.  Rachel agreed to help me load stuff to bring back, and having someone with me this trip will be wonderful.   It's the last round of the sentimental stuff, and hopefully a good portion of the tasks remaining.

Thanks in advance, Rachel.

Emotions and Memories

The past 7 days have felt like a lifetime to me.

I have felt new things, old things, difficult things, and things that just won't go away.  I have these things in huge quantities, and I don't have a clue how to deal with some of them.  So, I just do the best I can, try to take on one thing at a time, experience what I experience, try to keep a positive attitude, and then just try and reflect, redirect, and pick a direction to pursue.

I miss Mom and Dad.  And I just might be experiencing a good portion of grief this week, and this week alone.  For a number of reasons.

I began the week after the Memorial Day weekend, a weekend spent with great people (11 of them) and had a great time.  I left that family, to meet my family, which now consists, not considering my extended family, of my sister, her husband, and their two kids.  It is always good to see them; but this week would prove a very difficult one.

See, Sister and I met to finish cleaning out the home where we grew up.  Our parents, now gone, had left us to finish up the family business in Sanger.  Dad was worried about it, and we just told him we'd take care of things when the time came. 

I will say it has been a very difficult time.  I guess it's a blessing that they only had two of us, as we have pretty much agreed on things in every step of the process thus far.  Decisions like what to do with the house; the car; the chairs, couches and furniture; and all the stuff that really means something sentimental.  Those are the hard things: the things that have value and are priceless things of memories.  The plates on the wall that have been there forever.  The picture that hung on the wall above the fireplace.  The painting in the utility room that scared me as a little boy. 

And knowing that this is the final time to get everything we want.  And realizing we can't take it all, but wanting to anyway.

I have one more load of stuff that I'd like to bring back to Houston.  Well, maybe I'm limiting myself to one more load.  Sister got everything she wanted (less the tractor that will make its way north sometime) and may not be back to the house.  Saying that really hurt this week.  And trying to deal with the realization is hard and hurts at the same time.

We were able to load a 16' Penske truck with all of the items, and drove from Sanger to Denver last Friday.  Straight through.  I personally like driving those big trucks; I drove it from north of Oklahoma City through Kansas, and all the way to Golden, Co.  It was a pleasure.  It gave me something to do. 

Saturday we unloaded.  Pretty uneventful.  Ate some sushi, did some hiking, and then it was time for me to fly back to Dallas on Sunday.  It's hard to speak when you're emotional.  And I didn't say much on Sunday.

Sunday was really hard.  Knowing I was heading back to Sanger alone, to load up my items, and head back to Houston was an experience like none I had experienced before.  I decided to take my time, carefully loading Dad's Chair, a bookcase, and the rest of the boxes that were packed, and hold all those treasures that were worth keeping.

So I was ready to go.  I had a tow dolly to tow back the family car, that is now mine.  And then it hit me. 

I walked across the street to the Fosters, who our family has known forever.  Great friends, excellent neighbors, and those type of people that makes it a joy to have friends.  True friends.   I didn't want to take too much of their time, but it took me, overcome with emotion, ten minutes to ask a simple question:

"Could one of you guys come over and watch me load the car so I don't hurt myself?"

They just let me cry.

And so I did.  And they let me.  And then we talked about how great my parent were, and Mr. Foster told me jokes that Dad had never shared with us.  And then I gave him a hug while he sat, because he has back pain so bad he can't stand.

And so you guys that I've told it will hit me sometime?  Well, it has started.  For a week now. 

I decided about a month ago to start something brand new for a career.  Or a job.  Or something to do to start doing something again.  Not having worked for a few years, and not being excited about anything in particular, I started a contract sales position.  In this month, I have learned both good and bad, what I enjoy about it, and what I dislike horribly.  The first two weeks were fine; this week is absolutely the worst in a very, very long time.  This too will pass.  Sometime.

When you start something new, there is a learning curve.  And when you start a new career, using skills you have yet to develop, and you subject yourself to things that you hate just to confirm or deny them, it is quite difficult.  And it's even more difficult when you are learning every skill needed all at once.   It makes you stronger, though, or at least that's what everyone says.

So those of you close to me, don't fret:  this is a tough time for me.  I will come out of this on the other end stronger than ever before.  But it's gonna be a few.

Love you Mom and Dad.  Love you.  Miss you. 

Your Proud Son.