Empty spots in your heart

I thought for a while about writing about my Mom passing. Initially, it was too painful. Too chaotic. Everything was so jumbled in my head. It was difficult to process or put together coherent thoughts. It happened so fast. I couldn't process her being gone.

Still can't really.

But I feel like it might help. Maybe a relief valve of sorts, to let some of it out.

I still hear her voice, calling me "Stevie." I keep thinking I'll see her later when we grab dinner with her and Dad. Then I realize I'll never see her again. Never talk to her, get to hug her. Hear the same "Steve who?" joke when I'd call on the phone. Hear her say I'm her favorite when we both know she's joking. But it's our joke.

So strange now that I look back. I start to remember all those times, things seemed a little off. I didn't think it meant anything. Not that I would know it was cancer, but I can see now where it had been eating away at her. So small, day by day, that none of us noticed. 

Maybe she did. My family is epic for not necessarily saying when we are hurting. Maybe she knew something was up, but didn't want the attention. Didn't want to burden anyone with the knowledge of what was gnawing away at her body. What was coming.

It started as blood test results, maybe spots on the liver. Next day it was large masses on the liver. Next day it was inoperable. Next day was hospice. Next day she was gone. Five days.

We had five days to process that and lose her.

Funny too. She called it. I didn't hear this until after she had passed. But she was talking with Shelby on Friday in the hospital once we heard it was inoperable. Shelby told us she said she was ready. She was 82. She wasn't afraid. Doctors said she might last days, maybe weeks. But she told Shelby she would be gone in two days. That was on a Friday. She passed that Sunday ... two days later.

She went to sleep once we got to hospice on Saturday and never woke up. She slept, mostly peacefully. Occasionally she would start to rouse, I guess due to pain. The nurses would come in, give her something and she would drift off. But she never did wake up and talk to us. Once we moved from the hospital where they were medicating her to keep her conscious, to the hospice where they just wanted to make her comfortable, we never got to talk anymore.

I will always remember, thanks to Lisa's fantastic idea, playing Elvis Presley music for her there at the end on my phone. I sat it on the pillow next to her ear. And I held her hand. Ironically, she drew her last breath as Heartbreak Hotel played.

I listen to Elvis quite a bit now. I always have, but more so now. It helps me feel close to her. She introduced me to Elvis when I was young. She'd put his albums on our old LP player, the huge consolidated cabinet kind - I think it used to have a TV in it. She put him on and blast it through the house. "I'm Your Little Teddy Bear" was one of my first favorites. Hers too. But I listened to the whole discography. I think Elvis' rendition of "My Way" is one of my all-time favorites. That and "Suspicious Minds," "Kentucky Rain," and "Burning Love." She was going to take me when I was a kid to see him in concert. His tour was scheduled to make a stop at the Norfolk Scope Arena in Virginia. But he died in August 1977 before he could make it to Norfolk. I was 13.

Elvis will always be my connection to Mom. I remember when we took Mary, Lisa's Mom, to Graceland to visit Elvis' home and the museum. I think I was as excited as Mary. She and I were like kids in a candy store. Lisa was very patient. God bless her. Mom had gone a few years earlier with Dad and talked about how much she enjoyed it. Dad was very patient. God bless him, too.

I still feel very raw, like I haven't worked through the majority of the pain. There has been so much change in Lisa's and my life right now. I started a new job in North Georgia. We are trying to sell our home in Pace and move. So much is in flux, I don't know how much pain is still lurking below the surface. Just waiting for a chance to squeak out.

I do feel a constant ache. Like there's a hole, a wound in my heart, that never heals. It never gets smaller, never seems to fade away. It just sits there and stares at me. And, now I hear all those songs on the radio. The ones I didn't pay much attention to before, about making time to call your mom, spend time with your dad. Now I understand. Too little, too late.

But I did tell her, there at her beside, right after she was gone that I would make her proud. She may not be here physically, but I sense her with me all the time now. Maybe that will help with the absence. I guess it'll have to.

If only ...

If only, I had more time.

If only, I had more money.

If only, I got that promotion ... that new job ... a new car.

We've all been there. We wish our lives away sometimes. If I could only survive this week at work. Or, once I finish with this project, I'm going to fill-in-the-blank ... write the Great American Novel ... get a new job ... start working out ... lose weight.

We've all been there.

I read a passage in the Book of Awakening the other day about straying from the moment. Once you stray from where you are in the moment, you create a tension between where you are and where you want to be. And this tension blocks you from being truly alive.

The moment you quit living in the moment and start thinking about something else, you set yourself adrift. Lost in the moment of where you need to be and thinking about where you want to be, think you need to be, wish you could be. Your efforts cease moving you forward in this life and put you in a perpetual daydream. It becomes less about doing and achieving and more about wishing.

There's nothing wrong with having a dream, a daydream, a pipe dream. But you'll never achieve the life you want or deserve, if you stop moving forward. It's human nature to drift off, we all do it.

But the key is recognizing when that moment of relaxation or wistful thinking becomes a block to achieving your dreams. Living for the moment also means realizing where you are in that moment and seizing the opportunity. I've heard it said - "The world needs dreamers and the world needs doers, but most importantly, the world needs dreamers who do."

How many moments will pass before you realize your life has left you behind?

OK, it's official

Yeah, I suck. LOL. You can't claim to write a blog if you're only out here once a year.

But, I guess the good news is you can always start again. A lot has happened in the last year and I think the time is right for me to commit to this process full-time. No more excuses, no more reasons not to.

Just have to do it.

So, let's get this back in gear. 2016 has started as a fantastic year, so now is the time. Our oldest son, Shaw, bought a house in Lafayette where he continues to excel at a CPA firm there. Our oldest daughter, Shelby, had a baby -  Mason Fitzgerald Skipper. Beautiful healthy baby boy. Our daughter Ryann, who got engaged in 2015, bought a house. And our youngest, Matthew, is nearing the end of his college education and on the verge of starting his career and life. Lot going on.

And, I - after a 31-year break - finally graduated from college with my bachelor's degree. Technically, I haven't walked yet, but I finished the last class and now it's just a matter of getting that diploma in my grubby paws. Hard to describe the feeling. It's part pride and satisfaction for completing the task, but then part regret and self-loathing for taking so long and making up so many excuses for not doing it sooner.

A demon I have battled over the years is the fear of failure. I took a "you can't fail, if you don't try" approach to a lot of things ... especially early in life. I think this demon always made it easier not to do it, not to get started, not to make the effort. Luckily for me, two strong women in my life wouldn't let me be satisfied with mediocre. My sister, Linda, and my wife, Lisa, have been instrumental in helping me grow and evolve into who I am today.

They both deserve to walk with me.

Lesson learned for today. You can try to dodge who you are, who you are destined to be in life. Ultimately though, you spend more time in that effort and bear the frustration and aggravation - and eventually the shame - of trying to hide from yourself.

The effort is better spent in accepting yourself, your role, your life's journey and making the most of it. I look now at all the excuses, all the time wasted and lost. I'll never get that back.

Best served to embrace who you are and make the most of the opportunity. At the age of half-a-century, I realize the precious commodity time is and what a waste it is to squander it. You only get one ride on this crazy roller coaster, better make it count.

My apology to MLK

I see you.

With today being what it is, I couldn't resist the opportunity to say something about the impact of Martin Luther King. I'm really inspired today because I happened to look at the calendar and realize it's been nearly 50 years since he died. Shot down for his beliefs.

You would think in 50 years we had made some significant progress. Alas, no. We still see people according to skin color, gender, sexual orientation. Rather than look inward at the character and the integrity of a person, we take the easy way out. Why spend time getting to know someone and what they stand for, when we can take a simple glance and say, "Oh, he's black." "She's a woman."

That is tragic. Rather than spend a little time getting to know a person, we'll rely on a stereotype. If you think I'm painting with a broad brushstroke, take a look at the news and all the racially-charged violence we still see and gender inequalitites that exist across the globe. It's hard to believe it's 2015 sometimes.

One of my favorite King's quotes is the one about " ... hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that." But another hit me today and was appropriate for my thought's today.

"I have decide to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear."

Know someone who is always angry? Maybe hate is too strong a word, but think about people in your life who are always negative. The world is out to get them, it's always somebody else's fault. They're eaten up with it.

Give up that burden. Let it go. It only drags you down in the end, and anyone you can take with you.

On a day like today, why don't we all decide to take a stand. Rather than take the quick and easy route and reach for a violent solution, why don't we spend a little time getting to the bottom of life's challenges and work on a peaceful solution. See people for what they are inside and their character.

King also said the ultimate measure of a person is not where we stand in times of comfort and convenience, but where we stand in times of challenge and controversy.

Personally, I'm tired of issues like racism and gender inequality, people are people. Good or bad. The measure of your worth is in your heart, not on the surface. If King came back today to see where we were, I'd be embarrassed.

I am here.

Time for a new year

OK, apologies for the long absence. I never meant to wait this long to update this. But, as we all have happen - life got me distracted and on to different things. However, this morning, when I noticed it was New Year's Eve, I thought "What a perfect time to get back on track."

So, here I am.

Now that we gather tonight to say farewell to one year and pin our hopes to a new one, I think a call to focus on the positive in life is in order. I was reading Mark Nepo's The Book of Awakening and I found a passage that I think will help with our thoughs for the New Year.

In this one particular passage, he writes of a tradition in a certain section of Africa. There the natives have a verbal greeting they use whenever they see someone on their daily travels. One says - "I see you" - while the other replies - "I am here." Now, on face value, I admit, that sounds a little goofy.  I mean, here's to a grasp of the obvious!

But Nepo discusses the deeper meaning and why it is a traditional greeting. The key to it is recognizing each other and a little bit of validation. How often do you struggle in life and find yourself thinking - it's like I don't exist, no one sees me? I think we all get so caught up in the day-to-day struggles that we don't really see the people and things around us. It's like the person who passes you in the hall, says "How's it going?" and is around the corner before you can respond. Why did you even ask if you weren't going to stick around and listen? We go through the motions.

I like the concept of "I see you." It says I recognize you're there and who you are on this planet. I think it harkens back to a time when we stopped and recognized that we are all caught up in the rat race and need to stop to acknowledge each other. How are you? What's going on?

Invest a little time in your life and your friends' lives. That's the kind of investment that will really pay dividends. Rushing to meet that deadline may get the project out in time. But what if the slight of your friend deprives you the opportunity to help them through a difficult time or moment? Was it really worth it in the end?

"I am here" makes me smile too, because it feels like a personal shout out to the universe. I may be one small speck in the entirety of the universe, but dammit, I'm here. That counts for something. May count for everything on some days.

So, as we venture into 2015 - a year filled with promise and hope - here's a toast to make time to reconnect. To all my friends and family, I see you.

The Ode of the Foot Napkin

The tale began ages before the dawn of man. As we crawled from the primordial ooze to gaze with wonder upon this new land, we were imbued with a sense of instinct and curiosity.

How does this work? What makes it tick? How can I put it back together? Why did I take it apart?And why do I have all these left over parts? Oh well, I'll just throw those away.

OK, maybe it didn't work quite like that. But the tale of the foot napkin was borne from that same sense of discovery. My good friend Bill Heerman was traveling to work one day. He had taken MARTA - the people mover in downtown Atlanta. He parked at the station, driving from his home, and rode MARTA to the Southern Company headquarters at Ivan Allen Plaza.

However on this particular morning, it was raining quite heavily in Atlanta. So much so, that as Bill approached the office, he was faced with what was normally a downtown road in Atlanta - but today it was a small river, as rain water rushed down the avenue. His only choices were to go home, or face the rainwaters and make the final mad dash to the safety and drier conditions of his office.

Summoning his courage, he dashed at first opportunity across the street to the office, never hesitating, until he was safely inside the doors. He ventured from there to his cubicle and took off his rain jacket, set down his satchel and assessed the damage.

Not bad he thought to himself, the only problem were his shoes and socks and the bottom third of his pants - pretty much anything knee-down was soaked. After traveling the elevator and walking to his cubicle, they were still oozing water. Fortunately, there was a heater nearby so he removed his shoes and set them on top to dry. His socks were soaking wet, so he placed them there as well. Barefoot at his desk in a Fortune 500 office, pants rolled up to his knees, Bill set to work - just like any day ... just barefoot.

Unfortunately, this was the holiday season, so the departmental Christmas lunch was approaching. Pressed for time, Bill checked his shoes and socks. The shoes were less wet, still damp, but water wasn't oozing from them at this point. His socks, however, were still sopping wet.

Quickly his brain raced with options, finally settling on wearing the shoes and finding some socks - somewhere ... in about 10 minutes. As he searched for solutions, he remembered he had a bag with athletic clothes for his trip to the gym. Searching through, however he found no socks, just a random white T-shirt. Desperate for a solution, he quickly realized a white T shirt could pass for white socks. Right? It's better than no socks at all, right?

Grabbing scissors from his desk, he quickly cut the T shirt into two squares, big enough to wrap around his feet and disguise themselves as socks. Quickly wrapping each one around his feet and tucking them into his shoes, Bill was ready for the luncheon. No one would know the better.

Later that day, on a telephone call - that started out work-related - we discussed his morning

adventure. As we talked, we realized he had discovered a great new product - comparable with ShamWow or the BeDazzler. He had invented the ... Foot Napkin. You can clothe your foot in it and then later, when needed, you can whip it out of your shoe and use it as a napkin, or perhaps offer to a gentlewoman in need of a hankerchief. It has so many uses. We'd be rich. He would handle production and I would market it.

It's one of my favorite memories of Bill. What started out as a work conversation, turned into about 10 minutes of uninterrupted laughter. My sides and cheeks hurt from laughing so much. I cherish that memory now that he's gone.

Bill reminded me of the power and healing effects of laughter. The need to stop every now and then and relax. Take a breath. Visit with a friend. Talk to a family member. Life will be there when you return to it. Honestly, it never goes away. Life goes on and we all play a part - however grand or small.

But it's those moments of absolute joy, unquenchable laughter. Those are the moments that season our lives. We all become so caught up in the day-to-day grind. Finishing this project, so we can move onto the next. One day blurs into two, then it's a week, a month - half the year has gone by. You have to learn to savor the moment. Because before long, they will be gone.

Bill was taken from us too soon. Cancer took its toll on yet another person. But I learned from Bill to cherish the moments, savor each day and what it brings. Don't get so caught up in the forest that you can't appreciate the trees. Every tree, every moment is beautiful in it's own respect. But how often do we miss it because we're too worried about what's around the corner.

Thank you, Bill ... for that moment. I'll always cherish it.

Napkin, anyone?

All in the attitude

Here's a video I saw on the ted.com website, which if you haven't checked out - it's definitely worth a view. Videos on a variety of topics ranging from technology to human interaction.

I recently saw this video and it was part of the inspiration for this blog. The key to life is focusing on trying to be happy first, success will follow. If you focus on success first, as a requirement to be happy, you'll never get there.

http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work

And don't worry the foot napkin story is next.