www.facebook.com/share/drtXZmBtEScovpRG/
If I have ever interacted with you at any point in time, I urge you to please read the post that the above link will guide you to. Thank you all, for being my friends. ššš
Hi everybody! I hope this message finds you all well, content, and joyful about life! Itās now the 6th of November, and my Golden Birthday (50) is rapidly approaching on the 29th. As I have done here lately, Iām taking another minute to scribe a little bit more about myself that you guys on the internet may or may not know. It really all depends on whether or not you friended or followed me on Facebook. Over there I have shared some brief glimpses of my soul to my friends, as I have also done on X (formerly known as Twitter). So today I want to expound on a little known Honorific bestowed upon me in the recent years, as Iāve been growing and aging both physically and mentally, approaching my first half century on this planet. With my increasing age i find that much of my wisdom has also blossomed. Some of it, exponentially! And as I sit here writing this, Iām not the same man I was even a year ago., because I have grown so much in a very short time.
If any of you would care to learn a little more of my personal story, please, look me up on Facebook. There is a post pinned at the top of my Facebook Feed called āMy Personal Timelineā. In it I do my very best to share with those who stumble across my profile who I am, what I am, how I am, and most importantly why I am the man who sits here today unfurling as much of my hard won wisdom and experience as I can. If youāve never heard of me before, then I can almost promise you that by the time you get to the end of that post, youāll probably feel like weāve known each other forever and a day. I highly suggest you check it out, even if you just want to put a personality to my online existence here.
You see, if you read my Facebook post, that about a decade ago, I started what was to be the absolute worst times of my life. I even went as far as to attempt suicide by overdose at one point. Thankfully, God was not ready for me then, and I feel that I now have a purpose to look forward to every day. I am constantly getting little signs from God that He is watching, that He is listening, and that He is ever present in my daily life. The perfect photo will show up on my randomized iPhone for the situation Iām currently in at the moment. When I get in my car and crank it up, the perfect part of the perfect song that fits my situation exactly at that moment begins to play. I know God is talking to me, because every time I experience one of these occurrences, I feel like a light warm hand just butterfly touched my heart.
Now, I have always been a true Southern Baptist. I was saved, baptized, and born again into Jesusās Holy world when I was 14. My religion has always been an important part of me. I have tried, and failed, numerous times to be a better man. But sometimes I actually get it right, and when I do, I have a feeling of pure and utter joy that words cannot describe.
Most of my life I have been involved in some way or another with the ever growing industry of Information Technology. I have made it a career, that has carried me well into the day and age I now find myself in. A couple of years ago, I got a calling. Thatās the only way I can describe it. It wasnāt really a clear cut calling to change my life and become a Southern Baptist Minister. I have the best possible Southern Baptist Minister that I could ever have, in the one and only Brother Jimmy Dempsey, the pastor of my home church, West End Baptist, here in Louisville, Mississippi. I couldnāt ask for a better religious guide than he, and every Sunday he imparts knowledge to me that makes me a better man. Because of him, Iām a better Son, a better nephew, a better Brother and a Better Uncle. I learn from him daily, and he guides my heart (with Godās help) to become a better me. I have never felt compelled to try and become a Southern Baptist Minister myself. I donāt know how I would deal with the responsibility of leading a congregation like he does so (seemingly) effortlessly every Sunday.
Now, donāt get me wrong- it is all but effortlessly done every week. He spends countless hours studying, reading, learning, and teaching himself every week to make what has for me so far, been the perfect message delivered to us, the congregation, at the perfect time. I know how hard he works at it, but he makes it seem so natural and easy that anyone with any ounce of common sense knows that this man is a God called Pastor.
But a couple of years ago I got what I feel is my āCalling ā. And it isnāt to be a Church Figurehead, or to take over a congregation, or do anything that would require me to be in the ālimelight ā. I know God has something special in store for me. For a couple of years now I can feel it getting closer and closer. And so, in 2021, I was drawn to the Universal Life Church Ministries out of California. As anybody who knows me even a little bit, they would know of my love for California. I have some really great friends who live there, and I have visited the state many times throughout my life. I saw the offerings of the Universal Life Church, and I was compelled to complete their membership letter and become an ordained pastor of that organization. I was conferred the honorific of āFatherā and given the same governmental rights and privileges of any Pastor of any Faith. Because the Universal Life Ministry is a multi-denominational congregation. So basically I have the same authority as other Ordained Ministers of any religion as recognized by the State and Federal Government. I can legally preside over Marriages, Funerals, and just about any other Religious ceremony that I feel comfortable with. If I donāt feel comfortable with it, I wonāt do it, no matter what the situation may be. So I basically have the same authority level (in my mind) as a Justice of the Peace, who can legally sign Marriage Certificates, or any other sacramental documents that need a religious authority figure to certify. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever think of using this prestigious position in any way that would be abusive, harmful, or detrimental to any of my fellow man.
I did not take up this title frivolously or for any type of personal gain. Iām not that kind of person. Anyone who knows even a semblance of my character can tell that. Iām not trying to gain power or position in my, or any other community. But I do feel that I made the right choice in becoming a member of the Universal Life Church. It does not in any way override my primary role as just a Southern Baptist Church member. I do however feel that the fact that I am an ordained minister in the ULC is going to be of great importance, and I really feel like it will do so sooner rather than later. So I, To the best of my ability, am just positioning myself to be of greatest use when God unveils his perfect plan. I hope this little self explanation helps whomever reads it gain a little more insight into me as a person. One of the tenets that I now live by daily is to be as open and honest with everyone that I can be. So, I hope you have learned a little more about me, and can understand me a little better. Because caring for and sharing with one another is one of the most sublime attributes we, as human beings, can possess.
Good morning peeps! Hope youāre all doing well today! This morning Iāve been thinking about our friends across the Ocean, our friends in the Great British Empire. I have a lot of friends who live in the UK, and I just adore British TV – everyone who knows me knows how much I love Doctor Who. And since the showās 60th anniversary is coming this November, Iāve been catching snippets of videos online talking about the differences between us American English and the British English. So I thought Iād take a few moments to weigh in on the debate of whoās the Better Englishman. Of course, being American, I am slightly biased, but I think after reading my compelling remarks you might just agree with me. So without further ado, letās get on with it (or, as The Doctor would say, āAllon-zyā)!
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The first thing that we differ on is food. Being American, I tend to prefer our traditional naming of common everyday foodstuffs, rather than the British way. It just seems more natural to me, (and again Iām biased) but I thought Iād use a little visual reinforcement of my wording. The first thing we differ on is āBiscuitsā. These are āBiscuitsā:
They are an integral part of our morning ritual. Just about everybody wants a good biscuit for breakfast- I personally prefer Sausage Egg and Cheese. Some people prefer Ham or Chicken. Either way, this is a common breakfast staple in America.
With respect to that, the next visual offering I present to you are āCookiesā.
See, these are what the British call āBiscuitsā, but what we Americans know as sweet little pieces of Heaven. They are great for dessert, or a snack, or really just anytime youāre hungry. We donāt have a specific time of day for them. Theyāre pretty much always welcome.
The third foodstuff Iād like to explain are āRollsā.
These are light bread creations that go well with both lunch and dinner. Not to be confused with sandwich bread. Which we also use for āToastā:
Which is also another breakfast staple. But we donāt usually eat beans on it, rather, we prefer butter and jelly, or jam. Itās a great quick breakfast for when youāre in a hurry, but need to eat something before you dash out the door.
Another thing we differ on is āBeerā. When we say weāre having a beer, we usually mean a can of something like this:
Rather than a āPintā of something or other. Because in reality, we know weāre probably going to drink more like a gallon than a Pint. We Americans do tend to overdo some things.
But there is one thing we have that puts us easily ahead of the rest. Itās something we find in everyday grocery store, but I think our British friends donāt have easy access to it. Which is a shame, because every British person that I know who had tried it, loves it. We have āSpray Cheeseā in a can.
And with that, I think, we win by default. I hope you guys enjoy the rest of your day. I think Iām going to have some Spray Cheese on crackers. Till next time, Excelsior!
Good afternoon, peeps! I did say I was going to start updating this more frequently, so I guess nowās as good a time as any to make good on that promise. I actually have 4 topics I want to talk to you guys about today, but I promise, Iāll try to be succinct and short, but thorough about all of them, because I donāt want to put you guys to sleep or run you away by being too wordy. Iāll try my best to make every word count.
That being said, the first topic Iād like to bring to your attention is a little more sage advice Iāve learned throughout my almost 50 years of existence. Itās something that I try to do every day. And I suggest you try it too- youāll almost immediately see how and why itās beneficial, not just to you but to everyone around you as well. Every day, try to do one good thing for someone else. It doesnāt have to be a grand gesture, it can be something as simple as commenting someone on their dress, or a success theyāve had, or buying a box of donuts to take to a doctorās appointment or to a place you frequent, to cheer the workers up a little bit, or even something as simple as leaving the coin change from your purchase with the cashier, for the next person who comes in and is a little bit short. Because trust me, from time spent on that side of the cash register I can confidently tell you that Someone will always be short. Simple gestures like this not only make you feel better, they brighten up the entire world. And most of the time you donāt have to even think about doing something- you may find yourself doing something instinctively just because it needs to be done. When you get to that state, you can pretty much say youāve leveled up.
The second topic I want to cover today is just something I think about from time to time. I can pretty much guarantee that if you know me in any capacity in the real world, youāll be guilty of having done this too. Relax, itās not a bad thing, itās just something I tend to think about. Most of you who I see in the real world greet me with a happy āHey, Mr. Terry!ā And thatās fine. It goes to show you had excellent upbringing and are proud to show off your Southern sensibilities. But honestly, lovelies, you can get by with just calling me āTerryā. You donāt have to be formal about it at all. Because every time I hear āMr. Terryā, I think of my Dad, and how much I miss him being here every day. So no, itās not a bad thing in the least, itās just one of my ways of thinking that I want to share with you. Because I consider everybody reading this a good enough friend to be on a first name basis. But if you do want to be formal, thatās perfectly fine. I wonāt call you out on it. Just know that you donāt have to be that way around me.š
The third topic for today is that if you get to know me in any capacity, you can expect that at some time or other Iām going to do something incredibly nice for you out of the blue. Donāt sacred of it; rather I hope youāll accept it greatfully in the spirit of which Iāll offer it – the spirit of true friendship. I like making my friends happy. And though Iām not rich enough to do everything I want to for everyone all the time, I do regularly (*and quite randomly *) pick someone to do something nice for. Itās just how I was built. I hope you can deal with it.
The fourth, and final topic for today is this: when you have a new and refreshing idea, donāt be scared to give it a try. New and refreshing ideas can sometimes save the day. Like when Ford Prefect was trying to teach Arthur Dent how to fly, somewhere in the midst of the fourth or fifth novel in Douglas Adamās Hitchhikerās Guide to the Galaxy saga, they were temporaly trapped in the past on the new replacement Earth (you see, the original Earth had been demolished to make way for a new Hyperspace Bypass). Ford told Arthur that the trick to learning to fly was to learn how to throw yourself at the ground, and miss. And it just so happened that when Arthur took his first dive at the ground, he was subsequently distracted at the crucial moment, and thus he missed his target, instantly learning to fly. So looking at problems with new and fresh ideas may make you accomplish something youāve never tried to do before. So keep on having those new and fresh ideas.. you may learn to fly, in youāre own way.
So, guys, thatās it for me for today. Hope you enjoyed my little rant āof sortsā. Maybe it will brighten your day when you really need it. If so, or if you just want to comment, you can do so here or on any of the social platforms- Iām on most of them as Teknokai. If you want to know why I chose that name, simply click on the āAbout Meā info link on this WordPress website. Till we meet again! Excelsior!
Hello again, guys! Wow! Two updates in just two days – whoāda thunk it? I guess I really am on kind of a roll here. Letās just see how long it lasts. š
Ok, todayās wisdom is some that I have learned by the hardest means possible. Because of that, I can truly say that it amounts to an unforgettable life lesson. It likely will stay with me, at the forefront of my thoughts, for the rest of the time I have left on this mortal plane. When I was younger, it was the antithesis of what I wanted in my life. Now that I am approaching half a century, I realize that I wouldnāt still be here, being who I am and where I am without it. What I am talking about is pain.
Pain is something that we all share, regardless of whether we want to or not. We donāt really get a choice. It just is. I think Jim Butcher said it best in his Dresden Files novels, which I canāt remember exactly as it was written, but I know the concept intimately enough that I can paraphrase here. You see, according to Harry (Jimās main character) Pain is something unique to not only the human condition, but to life itself. Only living beings can experience it. Once you die, it no longer matters. But as long as you feel pain – whether it is the deepest and most gut-wrenchingly poignant pain of losing a loved one or the tiniest hint of pain in realizing that something you wanted to do didnāt succeed – you know you are still alive. Pain is powerful, and pain is a great motivator, and when you stop and think on it, the most joyful time you will ever have always comes after youāve trudged your way through the deepest part of it. Truly feeling pain, in all itās levels, will give you the most joyous of comfort once youāve pressed past it. And you will, with time, see the clarity of the fact that it all really is balanced. Everything is balanced to a perfect degree. The only problem I had learning this is because until you have the time, and space, to distance yourself from the immediate causality youāre in, you canāt see the overall picture properly. You canāt look out of a window and see the house youāre in, you can only see the house youāre in when youāre looking out of somebody elseās window. And thatās a whole ānother lesson in and of itself.
One of the greatest examples I can give you about Pain and Joy comes around this time every year. One of the most soul-numbingly pains I ever experienced was the loss of my Dad. It happened in a tragic accident 17 years ago, on Labor Day. When it happened, for just a moment, I never thought Iād ever be able to breathe again, the pain of loss was so intense. But unexpectedly, at the same time my heart was shattered with the loss of my Dad, it was immediately made whole again in the birth of my awesomest niece, Emeleigh. She is truly a wonderful ball of love and energy sent straight from God, and even though she didnāt know Daddy, she has heard enough about him from her father, my baby brother Randy, and me to know that she would have been the apple of his eye. Dad may be gone as we knew him physically, but I guarantee you that heās been right here with us, living through me and my brothers, and I know that heās enjoyed one speciality of a ride over these last 17 years- especially when heās been with me through my turbulent life. I can honestly say that now that Iām approaching 50, Iām definitely seeking the more Zen side of things.
And honestly, my joy didnāt stop there. Because a couple of years later, I was blessed with not one, but Twin nieces, Mady and Ava, who are just as much balls of energy and fun and love as Emileigh is. And I swear to you, every time I see them and read about something theyāve done or accomplished or are just going through, I can hear my Dad in the back of my mind saying, āThatās My Girls!ā Thatās probably why I have a habit of saying it myself. It always rings true.
So, peeps, the wisdom Iām sharing for today is to not let yourself get put down or out by the pain you experience in your life. Because honestly, once you transcend it, thereāll be more joy than you will expect. I can pretty much guarantee it. And so, once again, Iām signing off of my blog, and wishing well to you and yours until we meet again. Excelsior!
Terry
Hey Everybody!!! Howās it going today? Hope you guys are ready for a fun filled Labor Day! As many of you know, this time of year is Bittersweet for me, because I lost my Dad on Labor Day 17 years ago. Consequentially, this is usually the time of year that I have a deep introspection and personal inventory. On top of that, this coming November 29 I hit my 50th year on this little blue planet. So this year has been exceptionally enlightening for me, in more ways than one.
I am still thinking of doing more regular updates here to share my newfound wit and witticisms, and I promise Iām going to try to do that. And in that vein of thinking, today I have one really nice morsel to share with you guys. You can blame it on my old age, and my experience, and my general causality of interaction with life, (because it is all 3) so letās just say Iām kind of creating my own new set of āGolden Rulesā which I have learned painstakingly over the last half century, which Iām trying to apply more daily in my life as I set out on the path towards my next milestone goal, which will be another 50 years from now when Iāve companyās full Century. I donāt know whether it will be more poignant then than now, but for now itās actually a little more on the happy side of things. I guess weāll know for sure once we get there.
Today I just want to share with all you internet friends one special thing Iāve learned in my first half century. Itās something that has completely shaped who I am, as if this moment, and when I tell you what it is, it should be enough of a frame of reference for you to immediately know intrinsically what kind of person I am at my very core. Even if youāve only ever known me here on the internet, you should immediately get a full and unadulterated idea of who I am and why I live my life the way I do. Itās a very simple concept, when you come to think about it., and itās something than can easily be summed up in just once sentence, five words long. Thatās it . I never thought, when I was younger that Iād be able to convey the kind of meaning that I am going to in such a small and simple matter. Most of you who know me, especially in real life, know that Iām a Wordsmith, I like to use many, many, many words to say what I mean. In my younger days I was even a prolific poet, and my work has been publicly published, though it has been many a year since I last took quill to parchment to paint my soul across a lyrical canvas. However, I do think I still have it in me (as I just oh so subtly conferred), but as I said, this little piece of wisdom is powerful enough that I donāt have to dazzle it up to make it easier to understand. Honestly, one sentence of five words will say it all, and do it more profoundly than any Shakespearean redress. Trust, me, when I tell you, youāll see.
The best way I can tell you everything you need to know about me, and my life, and understand how deeply pensive and joyful it is to be me will be revealed in the next sentence. Are you all ready? Is everyone listening? Can you see the screen clearly and are probably biting your fingernails thinking āGet on with it, already!ā Ok, I will. Here we go.
Jesus is my role model.
There. That simple statement should tell you everything youāll ever need to know about me. Growing up, all of us had our role models, and many of them changed from time to time. We are always reinventing ourselves and trying to be something new or different. I know for most of my life, I was. But when I realized that my life would be infinitely more special and precious not just to me, but everyone around me, it was the simplest thing in the world to choose who my role model should be. And I know, for a fact, that anyone can make their life 1,000,000 times better if they choose the same role model. This is something that Iāve always known, but itās taken me 50 years to see the simplicity of it. I know Iāll never be exactly like Jesus, because he was the only perfect man who ever existed. But itās really very simple to try and conduct my life in such a way that it does itās best to duplicate what he stood, and still stands to this day, for. Sure, I may meet a ton of people who are cool and interesting and worthy, in their own way, of being the kind of person I think Iād like to be. But when it all comes down to it, the only one that I find myself really trying to emulate at the end of the day, is the only one who was ever perfect yet still walked this earth. And I have learned over my last half century that His way of thinking, and of living in general, is the most beneficial of all. I learned of it at an early age, but I didnāt profoundly understand it until now.
So, peeps, thatās my wisdom for today in a nutshell. Iāve begun working on a list of some other things that Iāve gleaned over this last half century that work alongside and complement this little nugget of knowledge, and in the coming days and weeks I fully intend to record them here for Posterityās sake. So until next time we meet, I hope your life is joyful and prosperous and filled with all the peace and love you can handle. Once again, borrowing from the one and only Stan āThe Manā Lee- Excelsior!
Terry
July 14, 2023
Hello again, internets!
Wow. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I last dusted off this (*hack, cough!) keyboard, but, as they say, time does not lie! This year has been quite a doozy so far, and it’s only about halfway over! I swear Im going to have to make myself get back online more – but time has a way of flying past and being so far over the horizon that I don’t know which direction to look in when the backdraft slaps me across the face! Oh, well, since I’m here again…
I hope that all of my internet friends find themselves well, or at least, as well as can be. I’m sitting here tonight getting ready to celebrate my Aunt Geraldine’s Birthday with her tomorrow with a sandwich luncheon at the church fellowship hall at 11:00 in the morning, and I just had to take a few minutes to sit down and capture for all eternity why she is the most loving and compassionate person I have ever known. If you are a local friend and have missed my posted invitation on FB, then please, by all means, come join us! Everyone will be welcome – whether you can stay for a bite or if you just run by to let her know you’re thinking about her. Everyone she gets to see will make her more imaginably happy than you can imagine. That’s one of the reasons I felt I needed to write this.
Even if you may’ve never met her personally, I guarantee that each and every one of you has at one time at least heard me mention her. She is my mother’s oldest living sister, and the aunt I currently live with here in our family (my grandparents’, her parents’) home in Louisville MS. For her entire life, she has been a caregiver. When she wasn’t working in housekeeping at the Winston County Nursing Home, she was taking care of, first, her parents, two brothers, and a sister, as well as one of her mother’s brothers, and enjoying a whole plevy of nieces and nephews (of which I am but one) here in what has always been her home. She has other brothers and sisters, some still with us, and some who aren’t, who left home and forged families of their own, but to these special few she dedicated her entire life. She personally looked after each one of them for as long as they each graced this earth. And slowly, but inevitably, as all things are, each of those whose she cared for has left this place for their eternal home in Heaven, until she is the last one that remained here. And that is where I stepped in.
For as long as I’ve know her, she has been more like a sister to me than an Aunt. I grew up in this house with her and the others, and have been here pretty much every single day of my life. Even when I was living out on my own, up until a few years ago. As a matter of fact, I literally cannot think of one time in my life when I didn’t know where Geraldine was or what she was doing. And that’s saying something, seeing that I am going to turning the Grand 5-0 in November myself. But several years ago, when her last stay-at-home sister, Pauline, passed away, the time came when she was left alone. And for as long as I can remember, I have always promised her that as long as I draw breath, she will never have to go anywhere that she doesn’t want to, and so till this day, she still enjoys life in what has always been her home. I have never been lucky enough to have a separate family of my own. Other than a severely brief marriage in the mid nineties, I have always been happy enough to live on my own, and be around her and the rest of my maternal “siblings”. As she has gotten older, I have found it not only a responsibility, but a true privilege to be able to be here for her now that she, herself, sometimes needs someone to call on.
I could not have hoped to have had a better person to dedicate my time to these last few years. Lord knows, she did the same for me when I was younger. She is the kind of person who never has lunch, or supper, until she has tracked me down, where I am inevitably lost somewhere on the internet seeking some yet unascertained jewel of useless geekery knowledge, forever stuck in the middle of the last Pokemon Game I have not yet taken time to stop and save yet, or swept up into the universe of a book good enough to rip me away from the mortal plane for a few pale seconds, and made sure that 1) I know it is time to eat (I am forever guilty of being THAT PERSON – the one who can never even think of food unless I am really hungry, and thanks to the wonder of modern diabetic medicine, I generally now never am) and that 2) I have a plan of what I’m going to (immediately) get up and consume. š That’s just her. She has never in her life thought of herself first. She always makes sure that everybody else has what they not only need, but mostly just want, before she even thinks about doing something for herself. She has always amazed me with her kindness, generosity, and purely un-self-concernedness – she was raised to do for others so much so that that she doesn’t realize some of the things she needs for herself. So I have tried to make it my priority to ensure that she gets what SHE WANTS nowadays, and, though I am far from being the one who can immediately glean her thoughts, I do know her well enough that I can already (most of the time) have ready what she needs when she needs it. I don’t always get it always right the first time, but by George I do get there in the end, usually.
So, that is what I want to say about my lovely Aunt Geraldine. She will be humble, and truly will not know what all the fuss is about tomorrow for her, but I hope she will have one of the best birthdays that she had had yet to date. I truly hope that she has a day that she will remember joyfully until this time comes around next year.
That being said, my dear internet friends, this day is not without tragedy as well. Something horrible has happened to some people I am very close to during the course of yesterdays’ storm, but rest assured, God is already working within me as to what I need to be doing next, even after we take a truly momentarily brief respite in honor of my Aunt. I already have another post brewing on that subject that I plan to blog about (gasp!) later on today here in this same space. Yes, it is going to seem like lightning is striking twice in this same space (pardon the unforgivable pun) with the rapidity of which I hit you guys with not one but two new posts in the same day. I have, however finally hit my wall, and 3:00 has come, so it is time for me to pursue the couple of hours of sleep I will need to prepare for tomorrow and it’s inevitable aftermath, but please keep tuned in here for more on that subject shortly after lunch tomorrow. Alas, I still have a bit of planning to do do for that special occasion later on today when it is time to get back to everything with fury and determination. Until then, have a wonderful rest of your night/morning, whichever finds you perusing this latest post. Until then, I’m stealing a little something form the late, great, one and only, Stan (the man) Lee -“Excelsior!”
Wow. I just realized its been almost 3 years since I was last on this site. I can’t believe how time has flown away from me so fast. It seems like only yesterday I was blogging here about all the cool things I thought about. But when I just logged in, I realized my last post was from 2019. That was pre-covid! That was so long ago I should have easily spotted the new changes around me. But I haven’t. Basically, for the last 3 years or so I’ve really been kinda fading out of reality!
But now that has changed. For a long time, I really wasn’t able to get online like I used to daily, when I was a working man. You see, I have a Chronic Compression Fracture in my back that pretty much rewrote the last few years of my life. After taking forever and a day to get approved on Disability, everything finally started going right about a year or so ago.
Since then, I have basically done just what I have to on a day to day basis, just to survive another day. You really don’t know what you’re missing out on until you have time to stop and really reflect on it, which has happened to me this weekend. I don’t know exactly why, but this weekend has been, ah, more of a “Soul Review” than a “Soul Search”. Im getting quite good at surprising myself with the amount of pure, honest to God, regular knowledge that I gained while I wasn’t even looking for it. This afternoon, I was thinking of my Dad, and how much I really miss him. He’s been gone for almost 16 years now. And I still wish every day I could pick up the phone and give him a call. But I can’t. Haven’t been able to in a very long time. 16 years actually. But this Father’s Day has had me reminiscing about the past, and about how much my life has changed since he passed away.
This started out as a simple Father’s Day remembrance, but over the course of the last couple of hours it has become so much more. I’m really finding it cathartic about so many other things other than just me missing my Dad. And I really wish he were here now to have experienced these things with me. But he isn’t, so in my own way, this writing is what I would like to have told him today, if he were still alive. I really hope that there are computers in heaven, because I so want him to see this post.
A-hem. Ok, the first thing that struck me was the fact that the most defining parts of my life have occurred since he passed away. Up until recently I would have told you, had you asked, that the most defining parts of my life were when I was a child, growing up in a divorced household, and that my most formative years came when I was learning to be an adult and start my own life on its inevitable path. From the time that I was, say, 20 – 30, that was the answer I’d give if asked the question. But suddenly, I’m 48, on the cusp of becoming 49 (in November) of this year. I’ve almost made it through a full HALF CENTURY. My, God, where did the time go? And really thinking about it, I have to admit that though my early years were crucial to my being me, the most formidable shaping occurrences have happened since I passed the 30 year mark. I really do think (now) that the most fun 1/3 of your life will be in your late teens til your late 20’s. After about 25, things really start to settle in. Mind you, I m not saying that where I am now is anywhere near the end, but it is a much wiser and stoical position from which to view myself that my “roaring 20’s”. By the way, why is it that all of the twenties (for sure the 19xx and 20xx, and maybe the 18xx)’s are always referred to with that sound? Does most of the auditory and inventory action of each century come into be in its twentieth year? I guess that would make sense…
But I digress. And now I have to get back on topic, because there really is something I want to say before I blow out this candle and head for bed tonight. So, I’ll try to not let my train of thought jump too many tracks. And so, back to my original reason I felt compelled to write this down tonight.
I have learned through the most aggressive teacher of all, experience, that no matter how you plan your life in its early stages, no matter how many hopes and dreams you think you just cannot live without, no matter how much you have to fight against the regime in charge to get what you want, most of that disintegrates from your life after you pass 30. I know the reason. Because at around 30 you actually grow up, and start trading out your fantasies for what they will inevitably become – the stark raving truth. It just so happens that at that time in my life, around the ~35 year mark, was when I lost my Dad, indubitably and forever. I thought that life was finally settling down and things were going just like they should about that time, but little did I know about how much of a shakeup was going to happen to me between then and now.
When my Dad passed away in 2006, he passed away just a few months before I started my dream job. In 2006, I became the IT manager for a pretty big production company in a town about 30 minutes away from where I have always lived, here in Louisville, MS. Before that, I had come up through the years starting as a convienice store clerk that I worked at all through high school, then moving on to Grocery Retail during my college years (I managed the local grocery store’s Deli and Bakery during this time. Yes, I actually used to cook. And it was usually good. I’ve even knocked out a few very special Cakes in my time, for Birthdays, Anniversaries, and Weddings. ) In the mid-nineties, I lucked out and got a job as a computer operator and eventually programmer for another local manufacturing company, and I started my career in the IT profession. For almost a decade I worked at that company. During which time I (very briefly) got married and (very very quickly) got divorced. No kids. No partner. Nobody but me. Alone against the world, because I couldn’t trust anyone in the world to let my guard down around again. After leaving my first IT computer programming position, which was a very big deal at the time in the town where I live, I actually worked for a couple of independent computer programming companies. I started to travel the world with one of them for a bit, flying out to California and Oregon, and places very mid and west of Mississippi, and I was starting to realize just how big life could be. After 4 or 5 years of this, I landed my dream job, as IT manager at the production company one town over, and I thought my life was set. My Dad was alive through all of this, and he was a constant supporter of me and whatever I wanted to do. He and my Mom had divorced when I was around 7 or 8 years old. Both remarried. After a train wreck of a time trying to spend split custody of me (Mom during the week, Dad every other weekend and two weeks in the summer), during which my new step mom turned out to be more of a monster than I could have ever realized, I stopped going to Dad’s at all. I lived the rest of my childhood until graduation, not seeing my Dad but once, when my paternal Grandmother passed away. I think I was a Junior in High School, then. After that, I did’t see him until the day I graduated. Because of reasons, I just couldn’t go be around him and his new wife, and I learned to live with that.
But things changed when I reached my early 20’s. And yes, I swear, most of them were roaring. Quite loudly, in fact. I got married to the first girl I ever loved, was betrayed by her within a year, and my divorce became final almost 11 months after the ink on the marriage certificate dried. During this time, my Dad actually reached out to me. He started making the effort to come by as often as he could, when he could, which was about once a month or so. He spent his adult life as a Master Sargent in the Army, and he was over the mechanics at Camp Shelby until he died. During this time, even though we were only getting together about once a month (he’d come stay at my house on drill weekends for his assigned regiment) he made it a point to call me every Sunday. Sunday was the day that we would catch up on the week before, and give each other the low down on how life in our respected areas was going. I had gotten so used to this that after he passed away, I still picked up my phone every Sunday morning for about 4 months or so after he passed, because I couldn’t believe he was really gone. During this time I was the closest I’d ever been to the man who gave me life. And I was loving every minute of it.
But in 2006, at tragic accident at home took him from me. It happened over Memorial Day weekend. Not going into too much detail, but my Dad got burned. Badly. He didn’t make it all the way from the transfer of the hospital in Hattiesburg to the Birmingham burn center. When I was notified about what happened, I immediately left town heading for Birmingham in my neighboring state of Alabama. Unfortunately, he expired before the chopper landed. He was gone before I ever got anywhere near the hospital. All of his (my) family were there as the chopper landed. But it was still a couple of hours later before I could get there on the ground, even racing at 80 miles an hour on most of I20. When I got there, the doctor took me into a side room. All of his (my) family had just left to get something to eat and a hotel for the night before trying to get back home. They had all gone in and saw him. The Doctor told me that if I really wanted to, he could take me back to see him, but was so devastated at the time I just couldn’t bear it. They say he was burned so badly he was unrecognizable. I couldn’t imagine what that had been like.
So, I left the hospital and drove straight back home, a little over two hours away. His residence was an even longer two hours’ drive past where I stopped, and the next 3 or 4 days were really a blur. I remember it somewhat vividly, yet at the same time I still have vague impressions of it. Even now I may hear someone mention something that happened at that time on or around the anniversary of his death that I did’t know. I mean, I’m sure I did, but at the time I couldn’t quite process it all.
That was in September of 2006. At the time in my life that I was actually connecting with my Dad, he was ripped away from me again, rather permanently this time. I have a couple of younger brothers whom I love dearly (one of which has given me the best nieces in the absolute world) who got so much more time with him than I did. I was the only child between my Mom and Dad. One thing he instilled in me was the belief that even though we had not had much time together, he wasn’t as worried about me (as if I could get into trouble) as he was my brothers, because he told me that he’d always known that I knew right from wrong, and would always make the right choice. I don’t know why he felt this way, but he told me this one time when we were talking about all the time he and I had missed out on together. God, how I wish he was just a phone call away now like he was back then. Absence and time only make the wound a little less ragged and sharp, but the wound is still there. It doesn’t ever go completely away.
I look back at the man I was then, and think – “where the Hell did he go?”. At that point in time I thought I was going to have it all, and damn the consequences. I was never gonna stop moving, let alone take time to actually sit still. I’m glad my Dad knew me in the best of the vibrance of my youth. I just wish he were still here today to see me as the wizened old soul that I have become.
Shortly after his death in September of 2006, I landed my dream job in November of 2006. I became part of the “Corporate Machine” – I was an influential member of a society I didn’t even know existed before. And I was good at it. For the next seven or so years, I rode the gravy train of life. Then, in my late 30’s I became more – how do I say, hyperactive? When I left my dream job it was to be my even dreamier job of owning my own business – an IT developer, architect, maintenance powerhouse that did it all. For a couple of years, I was happy being the one who got called in to places with IT problems that I could successfully diagnose and fix. I enjoyed that time too, pretty much. I still had never remarried or had kids – actually, I haven’t had a partner in my life since my catastrophically failed marriage ended way back when. I used to work all the time, and I traveled quite frequently. I was racking up some Delta Sky miles for a while. I had a couple of close friends that I hung out with on weekends and life was pretty much all I wanted it to be.
Then I went through a personal Hell so bad that at one time I even contemplated not coming out the other side. I developed a back disability that made it damn near impossible to work, let alone enjoy time off and out with friends. It got so bad at one point where I was almost bedridden. Between this horrible health condition and the onset of severe type 2 diabetes I was almost knocked down for the count. I got so sick that I literally couldn’t work anymore – it was (and still is) physically impossible for me to do the things I used to be able to do so easily. During this time, over the last 8 years, I lost everything I had ever had. I lost my home and independence. I lost my ability to work and make money. I damed near lost the ability to get out of bed. I started on the long and arduous task of getting disability. And trust me, it was more than just long and arduous. I literally lost everything I have ever had in my life during this time. Y’know – the universe deserves a gold star for the fact that it universally (see what I did there?) makes people who are trying to get disability almost have to freaking actually die before the motion comes through. If you ever try to get on legitimate disability – with a medically proven disability condition – be prepared to wait. Forever. And a Day. And when the sands of time have slowed to a mere scuffle on the mandala of life and you feel like you’ve been waiting a thousand years, you (may) eventually get it. For me, about 8 actual years passed before I finally got the message through to the people who matter, that I wasn’t a wannabe gold digger, and actually have a medical problem that I needed help with. During this time all of my resources – food, housing, clothing, literally everything, reached 0%. Having absolutely nothing is kinda the best feeling in the world. Your baggage is light, and you don’t have to worry about keeping anything safe. In fact, you don’t really have to worry much at all. But don’t worry, you’ll have all the time you need to not worry about anything in the world. And then your day will finally come.
About a year ago, I finally got approved for my disability status. I started receiving my compensation (from money I paid in while I worked) and got just a little bit of back pay, enough to pay off all the debts I had incurred during my 8 years of nothingness. Let me tell you. Going from absolutely nothing to actually having something to look forward to makes more of a difference in this world than you’d think. The impact of finally being able to support yourself almost makes you feel giddy with excitement. But you have to be careful, or you’ll burn up all your newfound prosperity before it can actually do any good. I have to keep reminding myself of that on a daily basis. And that was my self-reminder for today.
Where I stand today is a stark contrast to where I stood when my Dad was alive. Yes, I went through some really bad times, and yes, I seem to have emerged (finally) on the good side of things. But I can’t help but wonder – would everything have been quite so cold and malicious as it has been if my Dad had been around to comfort me? Because that was one thing he was really good at. No matter how I felt, when I was around him, I always felt better. He was aways telling me that he had faith in me, and in the choices he knew I would make, and that he was always proud to be my Dad. He could walk into a room and I swear it would brighten up just a little bit, no matter the time of day.
He had an aura about him, a kind of inner strength that radiated into the outside world. When he walked into a room, heads would turn. Nearly everyone knew him, because he never met a stranger. And one piece of advice that I have crafted my whole life around came from him. He once told me, “Son, whenever anybody asks you to do something for them, if you can do it, then do it. But don’t stop there. Always go that extra mile. Do what you are requested plus anything else you are capable of doing while you’re at it. Because people don’t always know how to ask for extra help, but they will definitely recognize it when they get it. And you will have done all you possibly could – what was asked, plus a little more that you could give. Trust me, they’ll appreciate it”.
Now, anyone who knows even an inkling about me knows that I am constantly trying to do good things for people whenever I see a need. I’m the guy who takes donuts to the staff at the Doctor’s office whenever I have an appointment. I never take my change if I do a cash transaction, because someone is always going to be a little short, and my change can help the cashiers not be losing money. If someone asks me to pick up a loaf of bread at the store, then I’ll probably get them a jug of milk too. Just because, they may need it and no know they need it, til it’s there.
Im not able to do a whole lot (especially not physically) but I do what I can. I live with an elderly maternal aunt who was the primary caregiver to her parents and a couple of her brothers and sisters as long as they were alive. Them being gone now, she didn’t need to be alone. I have nothing better to do, not that I could do a whole lot anyway, but we keep each other company and I try to see that she gets whatever she wants. She’s old – she deserves it. We mostly stay at home, feeding our proliferous band of cats (what? I say that because they multiply like weeds!) and trying to keep up with who’s doing what to whom on “The Bold and the Beautiful” and “The Young and the Restless”, collectively known as her “stories”. it’s a simple life, but a good one. And I can only begin to guess what the next upcoming half century has in store for me. Y’know, I probably won’t guess, because I don’t want to be wrong. So I’ll just bide my time and see where life takes me. I’m actually at a point where new things can start up, and I’m hoping it’ll be a glorious life. No matter what comes next, though, I still plan on carrying around that little bit of extra energy with me, and I plan on looking for ways to (subtly) do that little bit extra when I can. Because my Dad was right, it does feel good to know you’ve gone above and beyond your expectations. And I will always remember him for that.
Now, I’m going to plan my next post. Which I daresay will NOT be 3 years from now. Only maybe a few days away, if I stick to my new plan. I hope to see you all there.
I died today, on the 15th day of January 2019, and the world didn’t even notice.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, because after all, the only one affected by this change was me. Nobody stopped by before the event to say any well wishes. No one noticed when I took my last breath. No one even glanced in my direction as my soul, the only true part of me, separated from my mortal body in an instant of not calamity, but hushed silence, and moved out of the physical space which it had occupied for the last almost half century.
There were no klaxons, no bells, no sounds of any sort to mark my complete and utter separation from what I had, until this point, thought of as “me”. It was just a silent transition from being in one state to another. I didn’t feel anything, except maybe that was the whole point.
You see, for the last ten years or so I have lived, daily, with a constant pain that has become so familiar I would swear we were one and the same, from the very beginning of my existence. Every moment of every day, I’ve had a constant nagging at the center of my back, reminding me of the chronic compression fracture in my lumbar vertebrae, and the degenerative disc disease that was steadily eating away at my spine, with the never-stopping flow of a glacier, every melting away from its true form into a slosh of congealed agony, one minuscule amount at a time. For the first couple of years, I tried to work through the pain. I even got palliative help in managing my one constant companion. But over the course of time, my life had de-structured itself to the point that “constant agony” was too light a way of describing my inner turmoil.
During this time, I began to lose everything that I had ever had of value to me. First I lost my job, because I couldn’t physically hold up to the strictures that a daily routine demanded from my no longer conforming body. Once that was done, I quickly lost my home, and my car, in rapid succession. You see, with no money coming in, I couldn’t afford to hold on to the basic necessities that I had taken for granted in my meager little existence of a life. I resorted (God help me!) to moving in with my Mom and stepdad just to have a place to sleep and food to eat. In procuring said sustenance, I sold off every item of value that I had ever possessed, in slow, lingering departures, just to be able to see myself into the next day. All the while, my pain was becoming worse, and, since I no longer had a job, I no longer had insurance. Therefore, I could no longer see a medical professional for the proper care that I needed.
As my physical state worsened, so too did my mental state. Depression can creep up on you, jump you, and have you completely smothered it’s ever darkening manifestation before you can even realize what is happening. You reach what, as your former friends and family who have witnessed your decline and chosen to “step back” and not get involved in any way whatsoever, casually refer to as “rock bottom”. You know when you’ve arrived when the only possessions you have left to your name fill one medium sized laundry box.
For a moment, you think, “You know – nothing can be worse than this. I’ve fallen as far as I possibly can. Things have to change for the better, because they certainly can’t get any worse.” Then you discover that “rock bottom” has a basement.
You try to tell everyone you can still reach, in whatever is left of your tattered life circles, what you are going through, but the pure shame of it makes it hard to profess. So you suffer in silence, until you get to the point where you really decide that you can’t go any further. So you down a whole bottle of the most exquisite pain relieving medication you can get your hands on, chased with a stiff and powerful drink or two, and you try to let yourself go from the now constant and eternal hell that has become for you an “everyday existence”. For a brief moment you feel regret, then you feel total nothingness. Then, by the Grace of God, some 14 hours later you wake up. You have the mother of all hangovers, but that’s OK – you actually feel better because this pain is at the forefront now, and your regular constant agonies are pushed slightly into the background.
You do a helluva lot of soul searching, rather quickly, and decide that you are actually one lucky bastard – you got a second chance. By now, your family can no longer turn a blind eye to your predicament, and in an overstepping of boundaries, your closest of kin has you committed, open ended, to the closest state run mental asylum, “for your own good”. You learn another seven levels of Hell here, and after about four months of the worst purgatory you will ever see, either this side of life or the other, and you managed to get a family member – an aunt, no less, to agree to let you have a place to lay your head. You leave the hospital laden with the wonderful psychiatric candy you were so recently addicted to at the expense of the state, and return to a somewhat normal (though it will never really be that way again) lifestyle. You use your state given medications until they run out. They you take the prescriptions to your nearest chain pharmacy of choice, only to find out that these meds are so cutting edge there is no generic for them, and they are going to run you about $2,000 a bottle. For a month’s supply. Of three different drugs.
You return to you borrowed bed, and suffer the next level of exquisite agony – the withdrawal symphony.
After a couple of solid weeks, in which you manage to get back to your own version of “never-be-normal”, you start reaching out to places where you can try to get medical assistance. You find a wonderful, actual “FREE” clinic, run by a cooperative of the local church and volunteer hospital and pharmacy staff, which only convenes the first Sunday of every month, and you can only go once every three months. But this is a Godsend, because you not only see a physician, but you are given a 90 day supply of medicine (if it is medicine the charity pharmacy has in stock) so you can kind of get your body back on the track that it needs to be on. Kind of, but not quite exactly.
During this time – you have filed for Disability benefits from all the years that you have worked. And you are promptly denied. You appeal. This process takes about 15 months. You go in front of a judge with the help of a lawyer who expressly advertises on local TV, daily, that he prides himself in getting people who really need help the help that that deserve. You never meet said lawyer in the flesh until about 30 minutes before the set time of said appeal hearing. This man knows nothing about you – at all – and flounders at every question asked by the administrative law judge. You walk out of an extensively exhausted hearing – just knowing that you’re finally going to get the help you desperately need. Four moths later, you get the written decision by said administrative law judge – you are denied again. You have the option to appeal, this time to a federal court, about your case. Your lawyer tells you “Good Luck. I don’t do federal cases. You are free from any bill by me, but I can’t help you anymore.” Devastated, you desperately search for a lawyer who will file the appeal – and you find one, just in the nick of time.
You have your first meeting with the new lawyer’s staff, and you turn over all information possible about your case. They file the federal appeal, but, in the meantime, they file a “fresh” disability claim on you starting with that the very date you walked into their offices. This is just a backup, “in case”. In case of what, you are never fully explained.
Seven more months roll by, and the day of your hearing, your new lawyer contacts you and tells you that he had to dismiss your appeal, due to lack of evidence to support your claim that you were wrongfully dismissed from before. However – you are told that the “fresh claim” is still in effect, and that you will just be depending on it now. Screw the old claim with about 4 years of back pay – that’s just gone. It’s like you’re filing again for the first time, ever!
During this time, you get denied again. But that was to be expected. You are told that you you would have to go back through the appeal process again, so that an administrative law judge could make the decision on whether you basically get to live or die. Their choice. You are told to make every appointment with the free clinic you can, to make a couple of Emergency Room Visits (creating bills that you know you cannot afford) and even seeing the doctor who works the free clinic a couple of times at his regular, “pay to see” office, thereby creating even more medical bills. But you do this because your new lawyer says he cannot help you unless you are seen by a medical doctor on a routinely scheduled basis. So you do as you are told. And finally the day comes for your second time in court.
This time, you, and your new lawyer are much better prepared for the proceedings. You have your shi@t together, and every “i” is dotted and “t” is crossed. You have your hearing, and this judge is much more personable than your previous one. You have 3 (not 1, nor 2, but 3) letters from your doctor at 3 different times throughout the past year and a half – blatantly stating that your beloved doctor does not believe you are capable of maintaining gainful employment, due to your physical condition. During the hearing, your lawyer and the judge decide that the only piece of paperwork that they need to solidify your claim, is a standard 5 page document whereupon your doctor actually states the physical limitations you have. This, unbeknownst to you, is the moment that everything you have built your hopes upon for the past 8 years, total, but 2 years specifically, has once again been thrown into the deepest realms of abyssal Hell.
For some unfathomable reason, the doctor that you have been placing your trust in for the past two years, regularly – the one who has thrice penned missives stating that he believes you are unable to pursue gainful employment, tells you that he is not happy putting his name down on a piece of paper that actually states your physical limitations, because he doesn’t have a full ten years worth of time to say definitively what your limitations are (although you have discussed said limitations in detail), thereby committing himself to measurement of said limitations for all of time, because he is an “ethical” man (now, this has not come from his mouth at all, but from a volley of secretaries and nurses intervening betwixt your and his open communication channels). You are absolutely flabbergasted. Dumbfounded to the point that you cannot muster words to speak from your mouth. You have basically been told that although you have invested such a significant amount of time with this individual in the process of getting to where you are now, they don’t feel “comfortable” laying formal claim to a statement that they have “informally” put on paper three different times during the time that you have been seeing this doctor as his patient. You think the universe is actually having a right old laugh at your expense. But after multiple phone calls and being told the same thing over and over, you have no choice but to sit back and have yourself a truly “WTF?!?” moment.
So your new lawyer tells you that this is gonna be OK – it actually happens “all the time”. What will happen is he will inform the judge of your doctor’s unwillingness to commit the atrocity of actually standing behind what they have said multiple times before, and the judge will simply have you go to a “fresh” new doctor who knows nothing of your situation, but will examine you at the judge’s behest because the court will pay for the examination. Now, this wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that it means you are going to have to wait – first for a letter scheduling you an appointment with a random doctor you have never laid eyes on before, the going to said appointment, then waiting for the results to be sent back to the judge, who will then make his decision based upon this information (because he will *surely* remember your specific case amongst all the others he will be dealing with on a daily basis) and will then give you aa written decision based on his findings. The only problem is, instead of maybe a couple of weeks which would surely pass by quickly had your actual doctor had the balls to man up and own his own statements – you may possibly be looking at getting a decision by, oh I don’t know – it’s just now January – so let’s say maybe next Christmas?
During which time I have no longer been able to procure food for myself, the winter is adding a whole ‘nother layer of hardships with even trying to continue to, not live, but merely exist, until such time as the world deems it proper for your “never-going-away” problems to be dealt with on its terms; I have no money and no hope of gaining any type of plausible income whatsoever. I have nothing worth value to sell, pawn, or barter for anything I need. I have no means of transport (but I also have no where to go), and all I can do is curl up under a mountain of covers, brace myself against the freezing arctic winds, and try to push my personal Hell of constant pain into the background long enough to concentrate on trying to take my next breath…
Which is where I ended up today. I can’t tell you the exact moment of my passing, I was too caught up in trying to preserve my meager lonesome existence from the particular flavor of pain du jour to actually look at a clock, but rest assured – I felt the instant *snap* of separation – wherein everything I ever was or would be, simply faded into a dull thrum of quiet chaotic pulsing, and for the first time ever – I didn’t realize that any part of me hurt. Whatever humanity I possessed is long gone. I am nothing but a frozen ethereal breeze slowly wafting away from this reality I called home. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t really care anymore. And I’ve come to terms that despite my having an impressive 5,000 followers on the great multiverse of Twitter, another couple hundred Facebook “friends” and who knows how many Instagram viewers – not a single soul has noticed my passing. Oh, well, at least I don’t have to worry about leaving any mourners behind. Maybe the world will be a little bit lighter not having to carry my dead weight upon its shoulders for another cosmic heartbeat. Who knows? I certainly don’t. And from this beatifically frozen emptiness wherein I now find myself, with no cares, no worries, no hopes, nor dreams – just a never-ending landscape of eternal ice and silence, I can’t honestly say whether or not I ever mattered – or that my presence in that world of yesteryear ever had an impact on anybody, really. Because when all was said and done, and my time came to pass – there wasn’t anybody here to witness except myself. And I don’t think that counted anyway.
Ā
teknokai 