“You’ve always been a friend of mine!
And that’s the way we’ll be,
Until the day I die.
It’s good to know you’re on my side …
‘Cause now you know she’s leaving me!
And I need your help,
To make her see.
So turn on your charm, and let it shine …
‘Cause you’ve always been the one,
Who could make her stay around.
So when she gets to the city limit sign?
Don’t let me down!
Oh, Laredo!
Don’t let her go!
Just take her by the heart,
And let the wheels turn slow!
Oh, Laredo!
You’re my only hope!
So get her back to the day we met,
‘Cause that’s as far as she needs to get!
Oh, but please – don’t let her go!
Oh Laredo!”
--------------------
--------------------
That, kids, was Ted Mosby’s reaction, at the “end” of his
first date with The Mother, in the third to last (and arguably, most phenomenal episode of this final season) of, uuh, “How I
Met Your Mother”.
This final ninth season of “HIMYM” concluded last night. And like another series I loved (brantley
gilbert voice) back in the day, its ninth season has been, well … a
disaster. (That series would be the lottery fueled season of “Roseanne”. For
what it’s worth? I’d stack the first
four episodes of that season against anything they ever did, and by the last
three, four episodes, it was dialed in back in again. But my God, from about
episode six to the indefensible Thanksgiving episode, up to and including the
single worst thirty minutes of television to ever air (“Roseambo” … and yes, it
is exactly what you think it is), was that season brutal to watch.)
It started out strong.
By episode six, the train was coming off the tracks. By midseason, even “HIMYM” addict (and
Stevo’s Site Numero Dos’ Official Television Critic) Alan Sepinwall had checked out. I didn’t though. I kept hoping, believing, that something had
to give. Just like it did nine years
ago, when the producers of “Roseanne” backed the Brinks truck up (and then
some) to John Goodman’s doorstep, to bribe him back for the final ten episodes.
That something for “HIMYM” was the show’s 200th
episode, “How Your Mother Met Me”, told entirely from the perspective of the
future Mother. Ever since then, it’s
been one really good episode (“Daisy”), after really, really good episode
(“Gary Blauman”), after all-time classic (“The End of the Aisle”).
I’ve found myself thinking about that quote above, for the
better part of the last week.
Especially the first part of it.
--------------------
I wish I had the motivation to write at this point. Sadly, I don’t. I happen to think, at the risk of sounding
arrogant, conceited, and utterly incompetent, I’m fairly decent at this. And if I’m not? I happen to think you at least get a laugh
out of a few things, that pass as sensible writing. Or at least a little
fondness and nostalgia, for the look backs at events life has handed me, and by
extension, us, since so many of you who read this site, are the close friends
and family I care about.
I have literally had no motivation to write, in six
months. Hell, it’s March 25th
as I start this post, and “The Annual Column”, which was due literally three
months ago, isn’t halfway completed yet.
Because, in my defense … how do you properly do justice, to
the worst year of your life?
--------------------
Last night, one of only four television shows I make made a point
to watch every week, signed off, ironically enough, on the same day my favorite show of all time signed off, nine years ago.
(That would be March 31st.)
For the record, it got a lil’ bit dusty in the room three times: the
goodbyes on the balcony after the wedding (because it’s the last time the gang
would be together as themselves), the moment the old lady who keeps badgering
Ted on the train platform points out The Mother is there …
… and the final scene.
Yes, kids, Unca Teve loved how the show ended. Go figure.
92.45% of America is in a near riot-like state of disgust at the ending,
and it moved me to tears.
Which I think is kind of neat, honestly. Diff’rent Strokes for diff’rent folks. But it’s more than just that. It’s what that moment (when Ted shows up
outside Robin’s apartment, armed with the Smurf Penis trumpet, which is exactly
how the pilot ended) signaled to those of us who loved this show.
It’s final.
It’s over.
To bastardize a quote from another great show I loved: "we're not going back!"
To quote legitimately from that great show I loved: “whatever happened? Happened.”
--------------------
“You will be shocked, kids, when you discover how easy it is
in life to part ways with people forever.
That’s why when you find someone you want to keep around, you do
something about it.”
I focused too much last year, on what the first part of Ted’s
quote, meant to my life last year.
Because, as “company I work for” would note: “change happenz”**.
What I didn’t realize, until it hit me like a candlestick,
in the conservatory, by Miss Scarlett, in that final scene last night …
… is that it’s the second part of Ted’s quote, that I should
have focused on last year.
And every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every
day, of every month, of every year, of every moment, of my thirty seven years,
two months, and twenty two days (as of the start of this post), of my
existence, on this planet.
Because the second part?
Is what makes life, worth living.
--------------------
(**: “company I work
for”’s social media policy is to avoid mentioning them in a negative
light. But if you can’t figure out who I
work for from the slogan, then you have never watched a commercial during a
golf tournament, or a typical Tuesday on (brent musburger voice) CBS!)
--------------------
And so, welcome to the 2013 “Annual Column”, in which I
single out for individual praise, however great or brief, the people who matter
to me in life. This year, there’s going
to be some changes … not the least of which, is that I started this exactly
three months after it always posts.
This thing has always had a traditional format, for the most
part: it opens by thanking my parents, then goes to immediate family, then
close friends who are family to me, then co-workers, friends, and
acquaintances, then extended family, then “oh crap, I forgot to include you
earlier”, then closes down by praising “The Family”.
This year, that isn’t going to be the format. The opening?
Is staying the same. Come on, not
even I’m willing to change the traditional opening, if only because it makes my
folks laugh out loud.
But most of the rest of it?
Is changing. Including, and
especially, the ending.
Because it is shocking how easy it is, to remove people from
your life forever.
And it is incredible, what you will do, to keep someone
around, you don’t want to lose.
And it amazes me ... how often the first, has nothing to do, with the second.
--------------------
So … let’s open this, uuh, opus, by thanking the two people
whose night of tomfoolery, hijinks, and utter lack of self-control and
protection on a crazy Spring Break night in 1976, resulted in me: my mom and my
dad.
It’s not been a great year health wise for either of my
parents, but especially my dad. In case
you just drunken or stoned stumbled onto this site (in which case? Welcome! Light that Swisher up, crack that Coors Light wide open, and enjoy the ride!), my dad passed away on
October 6th for about twelve minutes. Because he went without oxygen for so long,
he was for all intents and purposes killed a second time, to try to save his
brain. The next three days were damned
near too much. Then came October 9th,
when Dad was brought out of the coma, and thankfully had everything still in
working order.
When it comes to my folks, I’m much closer to my dad than my
mom. (Mainly because mom and I are
exactly alike.) But I love them both
equally. Always have, always will. Here’s to believing I won’t do even once in
2014, what I did do in 2013: prep a eulogy***.
--------------------
(***: for the record,
that eulogy would have (and, sadly, someday will), consist of just one story: my favorite moment with my
dad. It is a story I will tell once, and
only once, and it is a story noone else would possibly have a clue about. Hell, dad probably doesn’t remember it. But that moment meant everything to me,
especially in the years since that moment.
We came way, way, way too damned close, to having to share that moment,
last October.
My way of saying? I won't make you sit on a couch for nine years, ala Luke and Penny, to get to the point, when that day comes.)
--------------------
To my brother: you’re not just family. You’re on the Mount Rushmore of Friends in my
life. I’d take a bullet for you.
And to my sister in law: you amaze me. I am so damned jealous of what my brother got
in you, that I think a significant part of why I’m single, is that I judge any
potential Mrs. Stevo against you … and they can’t stand up against you. You’re too amazing.
To the A-Man: you’re my “Special Little Guy”, and always
will be.
To Fay Fay: you never fail to make your uncle laugh, and you
never will.
And to Rey Rey: don’t tell anyone this … but not only can I not figure out how someone in our family is named Reghan ... but you’re Unca
Teve’s favorite. I love your brother, I love your sister ... but I love you?
Irrationally.
--------------------
And now, to the friends, that are family.
To “The Voice of Reason”: folks … hang on. (Pause).
What? (Pause). Yeah, true, Gregg might remove me from his
life for what I’m about to do, specifically the politician I’m about to “quote”
… but I think he’ll laugh.
Take it away, Joey!
(vice president biden voice) Folks! Gregg was a rock for Stevo this year, never
more so than when dealing with his dad’s issues. A four letter word – rock! R O C K, rock!
Thank you sir. The
fact that you’re possibly less than three years away from owning the nuclear
launch codes scares me sh*tless, but thank you.
It took every ounce of strength I had, to simply hold it
together that painful week in October. I
leaned on Gregg like I never have before, and damn, did he step up to the
challenge. He made sure all our good
friends were kept in the loop constantly, so that instead of me having to call
25 different people, I only had to call one.
He called or emailed the other 24.
Words cannot express how thankful I am, not just for your support and
kindness and friendship of that week, but for the last twenty something years.
Oh, yeah – and we’re NEVER going back to Don Chilito’s****. Only over my dead body. Which, given that it’s Don Chilitos, might
get ground up and used as the mystery meat in Tuesday’s Taqueria special at
that “fine dining establishment”.
And to your wife and kids: you’ve got one amazing husband,
and one incredible father. Oh, and folks! If you’ve never had one of Ashley’s breakfast
burritos, you have missed out on one of the great things in life.
To my brother’s best friend, and a good friend of mine, our
buddy Neeck: it isn’t Christmas until the Cube pulls up, and you emerge with
some reinforcement bottles of whatever was on sale at Royal Liquors. Never question that you’re family dude. You are.
To my buddy Jasson: thank you for everything. You are the only true friend of mine in my
age bracket, who knows what I felt on October 6th. Your support that day, meant everything. It kept me sane. You knew exactly what to say, and exactly
when to say it. I can never repay you
for that. Although I’m going to
try. That $12 for the double header day
in 2003, that I said “you don’t have to pay for, until Jesus returns”?
You’re off the hook.
Debt repaid.
To “The Perpetual Intern”, my buddy Anthony: there are very,
very, very few people in life, I truly respect.
Hell, I don’t even respect myself, if I’m being honest. You sir, have my respect. All the best for you, your wife, and your
adorable son, in this year to come.
And to “My Second Parents”, otherwise known as Russ and
Mona: thank you for your kindness, thank you for your support, thank you for
simply being you. You’ve always been
there for me, no matter what. That
counts for everything, in my book.
Our trip to Indy? If
I’m gonna use a “HIMYM” theme?
Was (wait for it …) legen … dary.
--------------------
(****: which of the
following did not occur within a week of our visit to Don Chilito’s: (a) Gregg’s
car was in an accident, (b) I had the most violent bout of diarrhea I believe I’ve
ever had, (c) dad’s health issues, or (d) I screwed up month and quarter end so
badly, the word “termination” was used more than once, to describe my immediate
future. The answer: all of those
occurred, within a week of visiting Don Chilito’s. Never again.)
--------------------
Next up: co-workers: present, and past.
Heath, you never fail to make me laugh. We’re definitely doing at least one Sunday
Funday tailgate for the Royals this year, and I’ll bring the case of Bud. (Both kinds? (verne lundquist voice) Yes sir!)) All the best to you and your wife, and your
kids … and quite frankly, you procreate so often, my brother is jealous, of
your, uuh, potency. And last time I
checked, my brother could fill an ark, with his kids.
To Mary, my former “boss” in every sense of the word, I will
simply say this: I should have listened to you nine years ago, when I walked
away from TA. And I should have definitely
listened to you, when it came to a certain boss in our department, I deal with
to this day. It only took me nine years,
but I get it now. I’d take a bullet for
you. The highest praise I can give
someone, I think.
Especially since (brantley gilbert voice) back in the day,
if given the chance, you might have fired said bullet at me.
To Brett, and Shannon (who still probably believes I don’t
exist*****), and to your kids: you amaze me in ways I cannot put into
words. I love the fact that even though
we never schedule anything, we somehow always run into each other in a “what
are the “bleeping” odds” moment, at least once a year. (And to think, people question why I don’t
believe in coincidence.) I miss you the
most of all, from TA.
To your brother Scott, to Rachelle, to the kids: keep being
you. What is it about a Hiser, that
never fails to make me laugh? I guess
the genuine goodness and decency, you all are.
To Phil and Lacey and family: I think Heath will back me up
on this – it ain’t summer until we’re getting ridiculously drunk in the parking
lot for a day game. We’re definitely
doing that at least once this year. All
the best, then and now.
To my former immediate boss Lucy: thank you for being a friend, thank you for having my back, and thank
you for the ability to realize that moving on to another step in life, doesn’t
have to be taken personally, when you own that choice, to move on. Man, how I wish certain people in my life, understood that basic concept of life, you should learn by the 2nd grade.
Ditto to my former co-workers Brad, Courtney, Pat (note: you
were ALWAYS my favorite), Janet, Donna, Colette, Dee, Vinita, and Teresa
K. Love you all. All the best.
To our lunch group – my former boss Belk, Carol, Teresa W, Ute,
Mary, and (welcome back kotter voice) welcome back, welcome back, welcome back!
Dusti: I love our monthly “meetings”.
Let’s keep this thing going.
To the people in my immediate area – Joe, you single
handedly make this department work. Dale,
your sense of humor is beyond legendary -- it's high infinity.
Kimberly, you’ve been a great addition, and (sneeze!) bless you. (It’s an inside baseball joke.) Kathy, you were put in an impossible
situation, and have made it almost tolerable.
Thank you for having my back. And
Heather. Oh Heather. As Principle Jacobs noted when she retired in
“Mr. Holland’s Opus”: “of all the people (in our area of the department)? You’re my favorite.”
And to my favorite people, the group POS staff: I miss
sitting by you all. Deneece, Geoff,
Shannon? We are why we can’t have nice
things.
--------------------
(*****: true story –
my buddy Brett’s wife did not believe I was a real person, the first three
years I knew her husband. She simply
didn’t believe someone this awesome could exist, apparently. So in October 2005, I headed down to the ‘Ville
after work, because we were going to go to the races at Adrian, only they got
rained out. Brett convinced me to stick
around until Shannon got home because “she doesn’t believe you’re a real person”. Ain’t we lucky we got ‘em? Good Times!)
--------------------
Next up: the “special section”, people I forgot to include
in the “family” portion of these prepared remarks.
To Damien: the extra ticket is always yours, any Chiefs game
you want it. Always fun to have you
around. You have a level of character and integrity about you, I wish I had.
To Megan, aka “The Crush”: good God girl, you look better
every time I see you. You’ll always be
the first round pick of Team Stevo for the summer pool volleyball team. Hopefully we get a few good games in this
summer.
To my bowling league teammates, Penny and “That DeHart Guy”:
I’m the only guy in the league nobody wanted as a teammate, and you had to ask
twice, for me to sign up to be a Slave.
(Pause). Yeah, that team name is
changing next year. In all seriousness,
thank you for your friendship, your generosity, your kindness, and allow me to
say on behalf of every employee not in a position of management in “company I
work for”: it is not the same here without you, girl. It sucks.
To Susan: hang in there.
Last year was a blast. This year
will be even funner.
To Donnie: noone other than Gregg was there for me as much
last year, as you. Thank you so damned
much, for your friendship, your kindness, and just being an ear to hear, and a
shoulder to cry on.
To Anthony and Jaimmie: April 19th is gonna be
one amazing evening. I trust there will
be a beer pong table at the reception.
It’s only fitting. In all
seriousness, congrats on prepping to tie the knot, and you’re making every game
next year, even if I have to buy the damned ticket(s). All I know is, we win when you’re there, we
lose when you aren’t.
To Will and Robin: all the best, as always. Don’t be strangers. And Max is welcome anytime too. Even if he’s the only dog in the world, that
doesn’t like to get in the water. Good grief, even Priest loved getting in the lake at Shawnee Mission Park, to say nothing of kicking Duke and Thor to the grass, to have the kiddie pool filled with water all to himself, on those hot days back in 2007 and 2008. (Pause). I miss my Special Little Rufus sometimes.
To Joyce and Jerry, and Ray and Anna: enjoy what life is
about to hand you. You’ve always got the
guest rooms when you come back to the neighborhood.
To Tyler: I respect the hell out of you. The work you do, changes lives, and this world, for the better. Even if it’s been four years since you went
out for the damned pizza after the … wait … pi-zza … piece-of … hey, I finally
got it! High infinity (rimshot!)
To Ron and Michelle: glad we finally merged tailgates. Ditto Roger and Diane and their crew. Had a blast with you all in Indy, even if the outcome left me vomiting in the alleyway on the way back to the car. (Note: the approximately 27 vodka tonics I
consumed during the collapse, may have had something to do with that. Lucas Oil Stadium: where 4th
Quarter liquor sales happen!)
And to Ryan: man, that week dealing with this defeat is
gonna be fun this summer. You bring the
boat, I got the beer (for you), and the whiskey (for me). In all seriousness, you might be the best
thing to happen to my life in the last year.
And in that previous sentence, you all reading this, can figure out why it’s taken me
four months to write this damned post.
To Phil and Jenny: congrats on the new arrival, congrats on
making it another year, and we’ll definitely have at least one “Rich and Rare”
experience this summer.
And to the sister I never had, Jenni: congrats on the move,
congrats on finding happiness and success.
God has someone amazing lined up for you someday. Hang in there until he arrives.
To my college roommates, “Cocoa” Vineet and “Tony Gonzalez”,
and the two unofficial college roommates, Mike and Niko: it’s been FIFTEEN
freaking years since we graduated!
Fifteen years! Sweet merciful
Jesus! Fifteen years! The fall of 1998 is without question – (allard
baird voice) without question! – THE best 120 some odd days of my life. As the great Ronnie Milsap would say, “I
wouldn’t have missed it for the world”.
And man, what I wouldn’t give to go back, even if just for one day.
To Ammie: thank you for being the one Panda, to never make
me feel unwelcome or unwanted, in your presence.
To Cam and Ashley: congrats on what you’re about to have
happen to your lives. I love the name,
for what it’s worth. And thank you for
the kind words of friendship and gratitude this fall and winter. I tried, guys. It’s all I can do. Because you can't make someone do, what they don't want to do ... unless there's like Nazi SS storm troopers or something, holding a gun to your head. Thanks for recognizing that.
To the Hoxsie’s and Mark: our night is my favorite in this
league. That it only happens twice a
year, is grouse. It’s Zues in
nature. Thank you so much for your
support for me these last few months, dealing with my folks health issues. And hang in there with yours. Group therapy: it works!
To Brent, and Ashley, and new baby girl: congrats. I wish you nothing but the best: then, now, and always.
And to Luke: it's you, I respect the most.
--------------------
Next up, the non-immediate family:
To my cousin Brooke and Craig: you’re my favorites in this
family. Even if your love of all things
Obama drives me bat sh*t crazy sometimes.
Congrats on the new job, the new city, and I’m definitely making a
Wizards game next winter, if only to visit you ... and Mister Bradley Beal, and Mister John Wall.
To my cousin Kristin and Bryan: congrats on another
year. We’ll have to meet up when I come
down for the Chiefs / Dolphins game this fall.
To my cousin Jordan: hang in there man. It does get better. You ever need someone to vent to that’s (luke
bryan voice) been there, done that, give me a shout. I’ll listen.
To my cousin Spencer and Sam: congrats on welcoming yet
another member of our family into this world!
Hope to see y’all on that Florida trip this fall.
To my favorite aunt Gail and Mike: you have no idea how much
dad appreciated you going out of your way to come here in October. From one family funeral, to almost a second
one. Love ya both. Ditto to my uncle Bruce and aunt Marsha –
thanks for the trip up and the words of support.
To my favorite uncle, Bill, and aunt Sandy: you were there
every day, and I cannot thank you enough.
Plus, the one moment of levity in that week from hell, go figure, uncle
Bill gave it. In case I haven’t shared
it … it’s (I believe) Tuesday morning.
My brother, my uncle and I head downstairs at Shawnee Mission to the
coffee cart (I think it’s called Scooters?).
Anyway, the barista asks my brother and I how many shots (of espresso)
we want in our beverage, and my uncle looks at the guy and goes “what the hell
kind of a nutty hospital is this?
Serving shots at eight in the morning?
Hell, I’ll take five!” He
genuinely thought they were pouring whiskey shots into the coffee, to make it
Irish style. I love that guy
irrationally.
To my cousins from him, Brad and family, Brent and family,
and Brian: thanks for being who you are, and it ain’t the holidays until I fail
to show up for a family dinner, because a Chiefs game interferes with the
plans. (Kids? This is why you make sure, everyone in the
family knows you’re an addict of (insert team here) come holiday season, so you
have built in excuses to avoid the family.
You’re welcome.)
And to my cousin Zach: it’s down to you and me for the next
wedding. I’m betting on you. No, really – I am betting on you. Because I’m not ready to settle down yet. Plus, we all like this girl. Hell, even my mom liked her. I haven’t brought a girl home my mom cared
for since … uuh … high school? (Although, to be fair, Mom has never met "The Crush".) So that
has to count for something.
--------------------
And with the niceties out of the way … it’s time for the
Finale.
--------------------
This is where normally, I’d thank each member of “The Family”*,
for who they are, and what they mean to me.
And our present ugliness aside, my feelings and care for each of you
three, has not changed whatsoever. But
if I’m being fair, not a single one of you did even one thing in this last
year, I’d deem to be an act of friendship, let alone of respect. There’s nothing any of you did, I want to
recognize, reward, point out, or remember.
So I choose to pass, on honoring “The Family”, because there’s
nothing there to honor, from last year.
--------------------
(*: "The Family" would consist of Dusty ("The Champ"), Kellie ("The Chica" or "Boasheao" -- you pick one, because I can't), and Katie ("The Ex"). Our last great moment is detailed via this link, and yes, it was that long ago.
--------------------
Instead, I choose to close this … in a way I never imagined
I’d ever do.
Those of you who know me best, know that I am not a
religious person. It’s not that I don’t
believe in God; I do. It’s not that I am
so arrogant and conceited that I think there isn’t a higher power; there is.
I just have never thought God gives a sh*t about me. I’ve got a decade of hurt and disappointment
and failure, to build that belief on.
Sunday, October 6th, my dad died. Then somehow was revived, only to medically
be killed a second time.
I had no doubt, despite every doctor, nurse, and even a few
friends of my folks who had survived what dad was about to go through assuring
me otherwise, I had no doubt it wouldn’t work.
Because nothing in my life has been what any unbiased third
party neutral observer would deem to be a success, save for the fact that all
of you recognized above, care enough about me, to warrant a quick mention. I fault no human being for that other than
myself … but I do have a deep distrust of the Almighty, because at some point,
it’d be nice to get out from under, and it just seems at times, like no matter
what I do, I fail. No matter how I try,
it doesn’t work.
That Sunday, I stepped outside at halftime of the Cowboys /
broncos epic regular season showdown.
(denver won 51-48; hands down the best game of the NFL season, other
than the Super Bowl. THAT, was the best
game of the season. The lesson? As always. (BLEEP!) denver!)
I called Gregg to
pull him into the loop, because I felt so overwhelmed, I didn’t know what to
do, who to turn to. I just was done, I was spent.
And more to the point?
I was pissed.
The EMT’s didn’t bother to call anyone but me. You want to know what fear is, Champ? Fear is not being too cowardly, to own a
bowling league decision. Fear is looking
your mom in the eye, and telling her the guy she’s been with for the last 47
years has dropped dead, and it’s a 50/50 coin flip she’ll never talk to him
again, where he’ll hear the conversation, or be capable of responding. Fear is having to call your brother, your
sister in law, your dad’s brother and sister, and let them know what has
happened. Fear is calling the family up
in Chicago, where Dad and I were supposed to go that October week for our
favorite relative my parent's age funeral; fear is letting them know that not only was noone from KC coming up, they
should start prepping to come down, for a funeral a week later.
Fear is having to look your five year old nephew in the eye,
when he hears that Papa “went to the doctor”, and freaks out … because two days
earlier, the family dog “went to the doctor” and not only never came home, a “new
Major” showed up instead. (Note: this
was the hardest part of the week, believe it or not. The twins were clueless … but Ayden was
TERRIFIED when he heard that dad was “at the doctor”. He only equated “doctor” with disappearance,
and never seeing you again. Seeing how
frightened he was, when we finally brought him up on Saturday to see dad and
confirm that “doctor” isn’t necessarily a bad thing to go see, is a look and a
feeling I will never forget.)
Fear is knowing the decision on that Wednesday, to pull the
plug or not, lies in your hands. Because
it did lie in my hands. Just as the
decision if it ever came to my mom, lies in my brother’s.
Fear was the only word I recognized that week. Absolute terror. I truly hope noone reading this, ever has to
deal with a week, like the week of October 6th, was for me.
Having said that …
I sat down on the bench outside the main entrance to Shawnee
Mission after getting off the phone with Gregg, and I started crying. I could not stop the tears. I can count on three fingers the number of
times I’ve cried uncontrollably in my life – (1) in the bathroom stall at Sandstone, when my buddy James’ death finally truly dawned on me, (2) after
passing my friend Randy’s body for the final time at his funeral, and (3) the
night I had decided to take my own life, as Randy and James did, only I failed
to do so.
(Pause).
You will notice, in every paragraph of this section, the
word “I” has been invoked.
Enter my parents’ neighbor up the street.
She had arrived, to offer support and see if there was
anything she could do, to help keep things at the house together. She saw me sobbing on that bench, and came up
and just hugged me.
And then she did what I deemed to be the strangest thing, given who I am.
She asked me to join her in the chapel, to say a prayer for
Dad.
--------------------
“You will be shocked, kids, when you discover how easy it is
in life to part ways with people forever.
That’s why when you find someone you want to keep around, you do
something about it.”
--------------------
I choose to close the Annual Column, by thanking the one,
and ultimately the only, reason my dad is still with us.
I choose to thank God.
My parents’ neighbor (and for those of you knew me growing
up, she is the wife of a pastor we all knew quite well, who sadly passed away a
couple years ago, and yes, it’s “that guy”) held my hand, prayed for my dad and
my family, and then simply said “Psalm 56:9.
That is what God wants me to tell you.
Psalm 56:9.”
I am not a religious person, even after all of this. The hurt of the last ten, eleven years, is
just too much still for me to set aside and let go of. Especially the hurt of the last two.
But I chose to look up what this verse was.
“This one thing I know – God is for me.”
Like with most things affiliated with religion, there is a
dependent clause, in front of those nine words.
But that clause, is not what I expected to read.
“The very day I call for help, the tide of battle
turns. My enemies flee!”
Nowhere in that dependent clause, does it say “you have to
believe I’ll come through for you”. Nowhere
does it say you have to repent of whatever wrong you’ve done. Nowhere does it say you have to believe a
certain way, act a certain way, have a level of faith or hope or belief so high
it’s insane. That isn’t what the verse
says. That isn’t what God asks us mere
mortals to do, when we’re in over our head, and cannot fathom how we’re going
to handle, what life demands we deal with.
It just simply asks you, to make the request, for His help.
And He’ll grant it, in the way that works best for not just Him ...
... but for you.
God gave myself and my family (as of this posting) 167 days with my dad, we did nothing to deserve. 167 days, of happiness, of joy, of laughter, of tears, of simply living life, we did nothing to deserve.
167 days, of greatness.
If I've learned anything in 2013?
It's that God is amazing ... all the time.
--------------------
Ultimately, what 2013 taught me is this: you don’t have to be
perfect. Everyone (bleeps) up. People fail you. You, fail you.
It's how you react, and deal, with that failure, that defines who you are.
I botched that definition royally, for most of 2013, with way too many of you, most especially "The Family". So be it. Whatever happened, happened.
But the past, doesn't have to define the future.
--------------------
You will be shocked, to see how easy it is for people to
disappear from your life forever.
Friendships referred to as “family” will collapse. People you depend on will fail you. Friends you believe in will disappoint you,
will hurt you, will … well, they’ll be me, the last few years: a trainwreck of
Thomas and Friends proportions.
Which is why, when you meet someone you want to stick
around, you do whatever it takes, to keep them at the table.
If you’re in this post?
I want you at the damned table.
Even if I have nothing positive, to say about you, in this
post.
--------------------
And if you’re not?
Give me a reason to reconsider your exclusion.
The 2013 “Annual Column” is fourteen pages shorter in Word,
than 2012’s. Part of that is because I
tried to ramble less. But mostly, it’s
because I chose to focus on those who truly matter to me.
It’s an inner circle, that always is accepting and
approving, applications.
Because if you read this?
You matter.
It's a lesson that if this ultimately worthless blog can impart to even one person ... makes everything posted on it, worth it.
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