Friday, October 24, 2014

Brandon and Alissa - First Touch



<Organizing all my writing tasks, sites, etc. Seriously considering a novel about Brandon and Alissa.>

The sight of her still makes my heart flutter. She smiles when she sees me.

Our third date. Isn't that supposed to be the "make or break" one? We were walking out after watching a surprisingly good "who done it" flick, laughing out loud over the not-so-subtle double-entendre humor. When was the last time I laughed out loud with someone?

Being at a movie with a date very early on in a relationship is extraordinarily uncomfortable for me. It is a very utilitarian problem actually. What do I do with my hands, if we haven't "held hands" yet? Breaking that ice in the theater just doesn't seem to work for me.

It began to lightly drizzle. Rain, whether it be warm springtime showers or a fall precursor to winter snow, has always stirred romantic or at least sentiment feelings from deep within my being. I think it started when we moved to Oregon when I was a young teenager in love. The rain just resonated with me then and has ever since, as a romantic attack on all the senses.

We weren't in much of hurry though interestingly enough as the drizzle turned to a light shower. I love walking in the rain and even more with someone that I might end up caring about.

My right hand brushed up against hers ever so gently, as I reached into my pocket for my keys; by accident? We were still a ways from the car in however and both looking ahead as we were talking about how much we really liked the movie, now that we stopped laughing! When our hands brushed, I totally forgot what I was talking about.

Until this point, I frankly wasn't sure if Alissa was all that attracted to me. I am not the greatest looking guy in the world and maybe lacked self confidence just a bit as a result. Dating again has been frustrating, yet left me with memories of truly happy relationships and experiences from my past that I would never trade. As frustrating as relationships are, I love being around women much more than men, as friends I mean. I have been engaged now twice in the last 2 years. While not ultimately working out, the women from those relationships are still some of my best friends.

"OK, I really want to hold her hand. But I am not sure this is even going to work out. Well, I will never know if I don't try. Stop being so silly. Sheesh", I thought to myself.

I ever so gently grasped her left hand with my right, at first lightly dragging my fingertips across the palm of her hand. Her long elegant fingers then immediately found their way interwoven between mine, as we continued walking. Was that an ever so quiet gasp I heard? We continued walking, without losing a beat. As I ever so slightly turned my head toward hers, to catch a sideways glance of her, she continued to look forward with a slight smile and what seemed to me to be a twinkle in her eyes, as a drop of rain paused on the tip of her nose and then fell to the ground.

I didn't know whether or not to pick up the conversation where it left off. At once, words seemed  inadequate for the moment. As we approached the car, Alissa forcefully squeezed my hand. As we walked to the passenger side of the car which happened to be in the now deserted part of the parking lot, well, I hadn't planned at all for what happened next. After all, until a minute before we had not even held hands.

She faced the passenger door, but as I was letting go of her hand, I slid my right arm gently around her waist and turned her to me, or did she turn on her own? She lifted her gaze up, our eyes immediately locked on each other. Without a single word, I gently raised both my hands  and brushed her now slightly damp hair aside from her eyes. Gently holding her face in my hands, with my thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, I paused and lowered my lips to hers as her eyes fluttered and closed. Our kisses were gentle and caressing, almost as if too passionate of a kiss would shatter the experience. We both knew time for more would come later, as now was time for this gentle, perfect caress of our first kiss; a kiss acting as a probing inquiry, an introduction of sorts, but yet so much more. She drew herself closer, her arms enveloping me, seemingly looking for not just protection from the drizzle that had turned to rain, but for protection of her heart, as her arms enveloped me.

She slid one arm up the back of my now wet jacket and cradling my neck, opened her eyes and with a knowing smile, gently pulled my face to her and ever so gently, gave my bottom lip a caressing kiss, seemingly to thank me, for bringing us together at this moment, started by the simple act of holding hands, our first touch.


Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Does Kindness Really Matter



Does Kindness Really Matter
A short story of love, patience, faith and the far reaching impacts of simple acts of kindness.

Sitting here in the food court, I am reminded of years in the past sitting here with my little ones; Saturday mornings, when they were still fairly young, I would take them for our adventure to the "pickle store". Smiling to myself, that was the name my youngest gave to this store, because, well, obviously to the impressionable mind of a young child, this store had these huge glass containers of pickles that I loved!

The children are now grown, making their own trips for 64 rolls of toilet paper. Times change. Circumstances of life also change in ways we might not have ever anticipated. Trips to the store, excursions to the gym, popcorn time at the movies, are all now done alone. Such is the path that many of us walk.

"My, that mom has her hands full.", I thought to myself finishing up my standard Hebrew National. A young mother was lovingly holding a newborn baby while sharing a lunch date with her two little girls.

"She appears in deep thought somewhere far away from here.", I mentally noted and wondered and felt a bit embarrassed for intruding into her private world. I couldn't help but hear the oldest daughter ask for more lemonade. Mom's hands were obviously full with her little one.

"Excuse me but I couldn't help but hear your daughter. Can I help you with that? You certainly seem to have your hands full.", I observed. I offered to go get it for her in order to help out. There was an element of satisfaction in helping out but yet at the same time mom looked shocked that a stranger would offer such kindness. I just considered it more of a civilized act that anyone would do, who was paying attention.

"How much effect do these acts of kindness really have on people?", I pondered as I was leaving to drive home. "Will mom even remember this? Will she pass it forward?". In a sense it did not matter. Maybe I was just in an "alone" mood, kind of wishing I was with someone to be able to share these kinds of moments.

I don't know if I was daydreaming about that moment or was just unaware as I started the drive back. Traffic was unusually heavy this afternoon. But after all, Phoenix is still growing and expanding. "This is really starting to remind me of LA and DC traffic.", I chuckled to myself.

I never saw it coming, and don't remember it happening, as it turns out, for several reasons. I had to speed up to merge onto the 101. Then, every driver's worst nightmare happened; someone else merging into that same spot from two lanes over.

I can only guess that our vehicles careened off of each other ("Why don't I remember what happened?")  I can see from afar ("How is that possible?") that my left front tire had exploded as my car then impaled itself on the now half-collapsed light standard just past the shoulder on the right hand side of the thruway. I can hear the sickening simultaneous sounds of the heavy impact and the metal on metal screeching  as my car was being literally cut open.  ("Huh? I don't understand. What am I watching right now? How can I be watching if I am in the car?")

As if in a movie fade-out, I was somewhere else now. I heard (no, felt?) a voice; recognizable, partially in how it sounded but also in how it made me feel. I felt contentment. I am not sure how else to explain this. The closest experience I can compare it to, are those feelings you have in certain dreams. During the dream, you know you feel a certain way. When awake, it is nearly impossible to begin to describe the feeling you had or even the cause of the feeling.

It was more than that though. This was something that resonated in my soul. I felt very much like I was coming home to a comfortable place; somewhere where immense joy and peace had been experienced a very long time ago but yet had had re-occurrences in my life. It then struck me. It was both a feeling and that voice. It was the feeling I experienced today (?) when I helped that mom with the soda. I don't understand. Everything from that point forward were words that I "felt"; words that were much more than words.

One has to try and understand that I knew I was not dreaming. In retrospect now, having gone through this experience, at least at the time, it might have been plausible that I was hallucinating, or experiencing the final "power down" of the last synapses firing in my brain, before death. What followed next however removed all doubt as to whether, what "I" was at this point, I was having a very real experience.

She told me that it would be OK. Yes, I was in my car and there was an accident and that I am no longer on the earth. ("Why didn't she say 'die'?") I recognized her voice. It was the mom from the store. I knew her name to be 'Mary'. How could I know that? She never told me. I asked her how is it that I could be talking to her. I was the one who was dead, or whatever. She would probably still be driving home with her daughters. She told me that time in the grand scheme of things doesn't work that way. I would learn and understand soon enough.

She seemed to step closer to me. She needed to convey something to me that was clearly very important to her and important to her for me to know. She told me that I should not ever question whether my kindness was appreciated. "How did she know about that?"

In fact, she conveyed to me, in a way that I wasn't able to understand, at that time, that that simple act of kindness changed her life and the lives of countless others. She explained to me that she reflected on that act of unsolicited kindness as she left the store. You see, she was planning on leaving town and leaving her husband when our paths crossed. She decided that if a stranger could offer to her kindness without any expectation of anything in return, she would do the same for the man with whom she was once so much in love.

As a result, she and her husband were able to reconcile. Mary and her husband had 2 more children. The youngest child eventually grew up and was responsible for helping to find a cure for a childhood disease that resulted in saving countless lives.

With barely a whisper that resounded through to the core of my being her voice wavered when she uttered, "Your kindness mattered."

And then, as it was becoming clear to me that my existence had fundamentally been altered, one by one, a steady stream of people, barely recognizable, a montage of memories, that I had the benefit of helping in some small way throughout my life (and some that I didn't even know I had helped) each told me their passionate and personal stories. Each described how an act of kindness had small and sometimes substantive impacts on each of their lives. With each encounter, I felt that I was the one who was being blessed with kindness.

Mary then told me that all of this occurring was only part of what I was to be shown. Something more "eternally meaningful" to me was at hand.

Mary knew the longings of my heart for love and companionship. She knew the loneliness that I had endured. She told me things no one ever could have known much less her. She understood how challenging it had been to stay positive, to have faith, even in the darkest of times.

It was in fact true that holding onto that faith had enabled me to be able to see the challenges in others' lives and reach out when others' needs were placed before me and allowed me to act. She told me then, that as each and every person that I was kind to, was put in my life to be the recipient of what they needed from me, they were also there to prompt me to be a better person. She then told me something that I knew from my mortal life; someone is always watching. But, in this case, someone here, wherever here is, had always been watching me.

Mary and her presence faded away as I was left wondering what she meant.

It was then that I felt what this whole experience was meant to be about. It was that feeling that I always longed for; that I imagined possible but not probable with the passing of each mortal year. It was that feeling of being able to wait for that one soul who would be the one to elicit those feelings of total giving.

I knew her name without consciously thinking about it, without ever having met her; Brenda. She approached me with hesitance, but our eyes never left each other. "I have watched every kind act you ever did for anyone. Every kindness you showed when you didn't have to; when you could have just thought about yourself. You see, just as you had to learn patience, so did I. I lived in another time. My patience had to be learned here. "He" promised me that if I were patient, ALL of my righteous desires would be fulfilled. I was given the opportunity to watch you help others, day after day. I watched as you were asked to perform a simple act of kindness to help Mary. I prayed with Him that you be the man that I knew you were capable of, and that you would be brought to me. And here you are."

"You see, 'He' loves each of us, in ways that you still don't understand, but soon will."

Every emotion, conscious thought, hope in my heart and soul recognized that this and more was what I was longing for. The loneliness was gone.

"I know what you are feeling. I truly do. I felt the same for you. It was as if somehow you were created with everything that I wanted and prayed for. I just had to find you. Well, the truth of the matter is that "He" allowed me to watch you, to even grow with you, to suffer as you did, to experience the loneliness that you did. I watched you as you stumbled, but more importantly I watched you. I knew. I know what you are capable of. I want you to know that I am yours for all eternity, if you can come to that same decision, but it has to be yours."

"Of all your qualities, it was the pure unselfish kindness that drew me to you. You see, or you will see, it is that kindness towards others that is His love. You see, He entrusted you to act for Him. EVERY time you acted on a prompting to be kind, didn't it feel like like someone was asking you to do something? You see, that is exactly what was happening. It was His belief in you that opened my eyes and my heart to believe in you. There were times, when you were on the brink of giving up, that He allowed me to touch your heart; to give you that hope, that reason to go on and fall back on your best qualities."

"It was truly then I knew you would make it, so I decided that I would wait as long as necessary, for just the chance to tell you all this. Although, these were not the circumstances that I had planned on."

"But now comes the hardest part of all. You have to go back. You have more to do that only you can do. I can't be with you yet, if you choose. I pleaded with Him to not do this, but you now see, it has been a gift for me to be able to let you know that I am waiting. You won't remember much of this, but you will remember enough to build on the faith that you already have. I will continue to watch you and look over you and wait for the time that your mortal life does come to its designed close."

I was engulfed in feelings of having touched the joy of the universe in "listening" to her, but I felt purpose now. I understood how He loves each of us so individually and wants each of us to experience His love.

My next memory was greeted with a blast of almost unbearable pain. I could hear again. (Is that right?) As my eyes focused, I could make out the face of a young EMT hovering over me. All I could make out from her utterances was "I don't believe it. This is not possible."

I could only gather up the strength to weakly utter "Thank you for your kindness." As she smiled down at me, there was something about her smile. Something familiar. My memory of something related to her was quickly fading. I had to somehow grasp it before it was gone forever. But I somehow remember meeting her recently. But how could that be? I remember her telling me something about having received an act of kindness and how something had changed her life forever. It was gone.

Jackie had moved to Phoenix almost two years ago from Boston where her elderly parents live. She hadn't spoken to her father since that time. She recently found out that he had cancer. She remembered the kindness of that man who miraculously came from near certain death. "He thanked me for my kindness?"

"Dad? This is Jackie. I wanted to know how you are doing. I have missed you. And I am sorry."


This all occurred a very short 20 years ago. I am an old man now. I never remarried. Somehow I didn't feel I had to anymore. Memories are beginning to come back, of someone waiting; of Brenda waiting.

Acts of kindness do matter.

Friday, April 25, 2014

Happiness - All that is hyped up to be?



During my divorce, I spoke at great lengths and for an extended period of time about a multitude of concepts; some esoteric, some more familiar with a close confidant. One area that our discussions gravitated to on multiple occasions was the topic of happiness. In fact one statement was made to me rhetorically, "You know Joe, maybe this whole happiness thing is totally overblown."

Is it wrong to focus on the attainment of personal happiness, assuming we know what that happiness is and would recognize it when we had it? Is it possible, or even healthy to focus exclusively on the happiness of others above or at the exclusion of our own self-focused happiness?

We have all heard the oft-quoted aphorism "We are responsible for our own happiness." We are certainly responsible for it, regardless of our circumstances and how we arrived in our station in life. The question is whether our focus in life, at least one focus, should be on our happiness, or perhaps instead on others' happiness, or maybe something else entirely.

I thought I had solved this when I considered how "joy" differs from "happiness" or how I thought it did. Joy seemed to take on a "higher" standing than happiness as I perceived it. Joy, as an emotion, seemed to embody an element of selflessness and even self-sacrifice, if necessary, to put the happiness of others beyond our own. It seemed that the replacement of "short term happiness" with emotions and feelings of gratitude, actions of service to others and thoughts of concern for the well-being of others "outranked" simple personal happiness.

Joy and personal happiness, at least then, in a sense, felt like mutually exclusive concepts. It wasn't that personal happiness felt foreign or even guilt-inducing but that what seemed like the never-ending "search" for happiness pushed concern for others often to a secondary level of importance.

This is never more evident than the social awareness surrounding single adults. Discussions concerning relationships invariably result in an analysis of what it is "we" want in a relationship; what characteristics of a the "perfect" mate are on our "list". This was the source of my conflict.

I am left feeling somewhat "selfish" for wanting on one hand to be happy, but yet KNOWING that my happiness is truly dependent upon my gaze being turned outward. How though, did I come to this realization? Sure. We are told to think of others first, in all we do. We all know that this is not always an easy thing to do. We know what it feels like to experience love and the happiness it evokes. We crave it. It is a healthy thing to experience.

I came to understand what it is like to experience the joy (and happiness) in the happiness of others; the happiness of others that is experienced by those whom we have had strong feelings of friendship with and for and even those with whom we have felt, if not always love, perhaps feelings of love. It is an awakening to not have thoughts of "What about me?" be the first thing we think about when we see the happiness of others.

Joy and happiness are not mutually exclusive concepts. Attempting to "experience" the happiness of others without reflection on our "state of happiness" does bring joy, IF we allow it. And when we do, that joy we experience does result in personal happiness. But the reason that we experience true happiness for the joy and happiness of others wasn't clear to me till recently.

It is the accepting of our happiness for others, BY OTHERS, as one accepts a gift, freely given, that through a process I don't fully understand, frees us from the constraints of our humanness to rely on what we get to generate true happiness. It is our connection with those we care about that acts as a conduit. When we are truly happy for someone (and it can not faked), we have, in a sense, given that person "permission" or perhaps more understandably said, given our "blessing" for their happiness. It is their acceptance of that gift that does NOT let them go in their happiness, but cements a bond between us; a true altruistic connection.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot

What if ....

When Harry Met Sally ... ended differently.

"I hate you Harry. I really hate you. No I mean it Harry. I can't go back. I can't and I won't. Goodbye Harry."

Sally turns her back to Harry and walks away. Harry stands there and almost insultingly .. smiles the slightest of smiles, takes a deep breath, slides his hands into his pockets, turns away from where Sally stood, and briskly leaves the party, and Sally behind.

Walking out the doors of the hotel, and walking into his new life, Harry stopped zipped up his coat, gazed up at the starry night and took his first step into his new life.

But before the 2nd step could follow, a voice called out to him and a touch on his arm caused Harry to awaken from his daze.

"Excuse me. I am sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear what you said or tried to say to her, up there", as a tall almost plain-looking, yet ... real ... woman motioned with a turn of her head to the balcony of the hotel that they both  just left. She quickly wiped a tear from her eye as her head turned away and back towards Harry, if just for a second.

"I know that this is an intrusion, but you must be heartbroken. I just wanted you to know that all I have ever wanted in life is someone to accept me for who I am. And you have given me hope. I'm sorry. This is so rude of me. I wanted you to know that. I am sorry for intruding. I just ... just ... felt that I needed to take a chance that you would listen and that you would understand and that ....  <as her voice trailed off into memories> I am SO sorry and embarrassed that I have intruded in your life. I need to get back to the party."

"Why?" Harry inquired.

They turned and started walking, together. Away from these lives and perhaps towards new ones.



When we take chances in life, they don't always work out as we think we would like them to. In fact, many times it is the act of taking a chance that shifts the fabric of chance and fate into opportunities. That is why Harry smiled. He took the chance and for that he would never doubt he did the right thing.




Sunday, March 23, 2014

Be Inspired

Be inspired.

How does inspiration and creativity manifest itself to you in your life, your work and your passions? That is, do you always have a preconceived goal in mind of something you want to accomplish even when it is a struggle to fulfill that "itch" or what that itch means and form your plan around tightly designed .. ways .. to accomplish the goal?

Or do you, at least once in a while, recognize that there is something different you want to accomplish or every attempt (even if it is something that has a very short duration) and simply allow yourself to experience what is around you and let the inspiration come to you from the myriad elements of your surrounding?


Are you looking for that inspiration desperately? Maybe it is to be found in an afternoon or a single day road trip.

1. Pack an overnite bag.
2. Gas up the car.
3. Pack up your phone, camera, laptop, pad of paper and pens.
4. And drive.
5. Maybe you will think of someone you can surprise with a hello.
6. Maybe you will wander across a forest clearing that will give you inspiration for something you need to accomplish.
7. Maybe a mountain overlook or clearing you hadn't ever stopped to look at before has something to say to you ... and you to it.

Don't plan anything. Be inspired.




I Own It



Each of us are responsible for the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

If there is one lesson that life has taught me, it is that struggles or at least unexpected "turns for the worse" are an expected element of our existence. However, the real lesson is, no matter how we got where we are, we are responsible for where we are.

One of the constants and most important blessing we have in life is that of free agency. This gift and the implications of its exercise can be the source of greatest joy in our lives or it can be the cause of our greatest sorrows. 

We can choose the direction that our life takes. We feel empowered when we exercise that agency, resulting in happiness and satisfaction coming into our lives. We feel empowered because we believe we are in control of what happens to us based on our choices. However the exercise of agency by others, or the unexpected impacts of agency by ourselves is not always as easy to accept. 

How many times have we seen the ravages of war and its impact on the innocent civilians. We see almost daily, the heart-wrenching videos of a grief-stricken mother whose child has been figuratively and literally ripped from her arms and from her life by the actions of a drunk driver.

It is these effects of the exercise of agency by others that oftentimes drives people to life-ending depression, questioning the goodness of a God who would allow such a thing to occur and questioning of the fairness of life.

We live in a time of a very difficult economy for many. Long term unemployment is at historic highs. We see the quoted unemployment statistics weekly. We all know someone who has been impacted by these circumstances. I can speak from personal experience after being a six figure wage earner for most of my adult life.

It is easy to see a "path of responsibility" when it is obvious that our actions or inaction have "caused" our present circumstances. What is much more difficult for people to accept, is that regardless of how we arrived at our present condition, we are responsible for where we are.

Most people frankly have a difficult time accepting this statement and implications thereof. "I didn't do anything to cause myself to lose my job. How can that be my fault?" I bought into this line of reasoning until I came to realize and accept that:

  • I didn't prepare for this eventuality.
  • I allowed myself to be comfortable in the position I was in and didn't constantly retrain in the latest technologies.
  • I didn't keep myself physically fit to have the energy and stamina to make major changes in my life.
  • I wasn't setting goals; short-term and long-term.
Now the path is much more difficult, but it is my responsibility for where I am in life regardless of any effects I have or currently feel because of the actions of others. No, I am NOT responsible for the actions of others, but it is my and only my responsibility for not being prepared.

What does one do when beset upon by seemingly insurmountable circumstances or conditions? (In no specific order.)

1. Dream big. If your dreams and goals do not SCARE you, you are not dreaming big enough.

2. Pursue your passions. This may mean taking on work and jobs that are not your passion at the moment in order to gain momentum. That is fine. Sometimes anything that pays the bills is progress.

3. Find your success coach. Find that person who sees your potential and will hold you accountable.

4. Fight your fears and procrastination. Sometimes you must tackle only one task at a time. Sometimes it means just paying one bill to make progress for the day. Do NOT pretend that your fears are a part of you to be ignored. They MUST be recognized, accepted and confronted.

5. Do not live your life for others or for their acceptance or approval of you. What they think of you is none of your business.

6. Whatever you plan on doing with your life, it must involve leaving this world a better place than when you got here.

7. Say hello to someone new and learn their name, every single day. This may not seem to "fit" in with what it takes to change one's life around. We gain perspective by connecting with other people and we bring joy to the lives of others by recognizing them and making the effort to get to know them.

8. Talent on its own never won the day. It is the person who hones his craft every day, works till 2 am and that has that sickening work ethic that is focused on improving oneself that realizes the dream.

9. Get up early in the morning to start your day. Eat healthy and exercise.

10. The biggest problem that people have breaking out of their circumstances is that they don't SEE themselves in another life. They don't see themselves living on the beach. They don't see themselves writing books. They don't see themselves giving seminars. No matter what kind of changes we make in our lives, on average 4 out of 5 people will not believe we are making the right choices or will turn us down when we approach them for a job, for a sale or for support. 

All that matters is that YOU first believe it and that YOU take the ACTIONS to make it happen.


Monday, March 10, 2014

The Client Needs to Steer




The increase in the productivity of a sales team is most often linked to small incremental changes in thinking and behavior. Moral of the story: There are no big secrets.

As Darren Hardy hammers home throughout his best selling book The Compound Effect it is the small daily changes that we make in our lives and practice CONSISTENTLY that effect real changes in our lives.

If your sales force practiced these simple principles, their productivity would stand a much better chance at improvement:

Do you as a manager encourage (and do by example) your sales team to ALWAYS be engaged in personal improvement?

This can take the form of books, seminars, webinars, etc.

Does your sales team "walk the talk"?

That is, do they use their own products and services? If you sell one brand of car, does your sales team drive another brand? This is probably not going to encourage others to think that they really believe in their product. (If they really don't believe in the product, then you probably have a bigger problem.)

How is your team trained to react to "No"? 

The more people that say "No", then that means they are approaching more people. "No" doesn't mean failure. It can mean one step closer to success.

Do you find that your or your team are "steering" customers to products or services that YOU want them to buy?

There is very little success achieved in this approach. In order to satisfy our customers, we need to FULLY understand what THEY want and need and direct them to our products and services that satisfy those needs. It rarely works out the other way around.

Are YOU and your team personally organized?

I am going to include in this good grooming and ... yes, this includes smelling good. If this sounds silly to you, just ask yourself how you feel as a customer when you see someone in a suit and tennis shoes (yes I have seen this recently with a car salesman here in Phoenix) and could pick out everything he had in his dinner salad from what was between his teeth.)

Do you and your sales staff how followup call sheets AND notes from their meeting with their potential customers?

Are you and your sales staff practicing all your best practices ON A CONSISTENT basis?

We are creatures of habit. The more we practice our best behaviors, the better we get at them.

In summary, you as a manager must walk the talk, set expectations, and provide the tools for your staff to be successful.


Sunday, March 9, 2014

The Winds of Time



I think she was welcoming me back, in her own way. Her "voice" has always spoken to my soul. My memory of her is most reminiscent as a young man, walking to church at 5:45 am, cold snow crunching under foot and then hearing her calls whispering through the pines, pretending to say .. something. I was certain that she would speak louder as  I approached her in the the pine trees and then die down as I passed. Was she disappointed?

Her voice was not her only attempt to gain my attention. She knew early on in my life that I had a hidden fantasy for her. I looked forward to her loud yet unannounced arrivals with her siblings; rain and snow, but especially with the summer rainstorms. I felt she was was whispering only to me; whispering and then announcing her presence and quietly leaving.

She exercised all of her womanly assets; ability to evoke the deepest of emotions with gentlest of caressing touches to my face; the cold and bitter emotions of rejection and anger as biting, stabbing knives in the dead of winter. She would use her strength coupled with desert heat to inflict stifling, breath-taking pain. She would touch my soul and make me wish she would never leave when accompanying early fall drizzles.

She didn't forget about me on the night of December 7th, 1988.

The night before Eric was born

She certainly was going to announce his birth. 52 MPH wind gusts!!! Yes my dear you got my attention. He has deserved all the trumpeting you brought that night to his arrival the next day.

The last two nights, your whispers have been of a different, quieting, calming nature; almost as if you were telling me, begging me, pleading with me, to have faith, to calm down, to not give up. That all would be well. I realize you were giving me a gift. A gift from an old friend.

You haven't been just the winds of time in my life. You have marked the moments of my life in a way that a friend wants to not be remembered as much as to have had an impact. You have helped me remember the cold that can be so sadly and maliciously directly between humans. You have reminded me through displays of strength, the power that I own and only need to bury the fears that hold that power at bay. The most important and touching impact you have had, is how you have caressed through your soft ripples of the curtains, the gentleness that resides in me.

I think I will remember you most though, through your passionate almost lust-filled approaches; the nights in late fall, when you would gently accompany the light rain and carrying the sounds and smells of the rain gently falling on the roof.  You would passionately seduce me, with thoughts, feelings and longings for the embrace of that passion in my life, or missing from my life. Your gentle breezes brought the smell of the freshly fallen rain to my being, accompanied by the rhythmic beatings of the rain  and even occasional sprinkles to my face as I lay near the open window wishing you would never leave.

Stay close dear fiend. You are more than the winds of time. You are the balancing of the ebbs and flows of life, emotion and passion.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Rain on the Face




It hasn't been a heavy rain tonite, but one that like a long lost friend, has been missed. The absence of this friend evokes response from all the senses; the repetitive pounding of the rain on the roof, and falling onto the ground; the cool brisk air on the face, reminiscent of cross country meets, walking home from football games and lonely walks; walks that tempts one to not turn around, to walk into the arms of destiny.

The rain also has a smell of freshness and renewal; hope and motivation for the courage to walk new paths.

But it is the feel of the rain on the face that conjures up a lifetime of memories. The innocent wonder of an inquisitive child wondering  "Where does the rain come?". Long walks of solitude by a confused teenager wondering where he fits in life; asking and looking for answers to fill the gaps of loneliness and yearning for a future of new goals, new friends, new outcomes. This rain is very uniquely reminiscent of one memory; son and dad; his first football game, one that he will likely not remember but a long walk back from a now long gone stadium to the boy's rescuing feelings of warmth of the car. Dad's feelings and memories of warmth are quite different, then and now.

The rain today however, sometimes summons feelings of failure, memories on a path that have led to an unplanned for future, but it is a future full of new possibilities, new memories of rain to be had, to be experienced and to be shared with those closest; eternally closest and forever loved.

Perhaps these memories are shared, perhaps they are forgotten, but the experiences spawning the memories are what will be remembered and felt; felt much like the rain on the face. For perhaps, new memories await, new feelings to be felt, new echoes to be heard and cool breezes to be felt.

Perchance I am only now learning that the rain is meant to both nourish the memories needing to be indelibly anchored in the heart and soul, to wash away the burdens of guilt and unfulfilled hopes and dreams of the past and most importantly to initiate the growth of new experiences, memories, goals and friendships. Maybe it is the new rain of my life; the life giving water that turns our gaze outward and in to the hearts of those that mean the most to us; those that need the nourishment of our concern, friendship and love.