Joe was Wrong

Joe Walsh sang "everybody's so different, I haven't changed". I think he was probably wrong on both counts. It's easy and disturbing to see other people change but it's hard to look in the mirror and see something different (except maybe gray hair).

Don't Wait

This thought isn't random at all. It's an unfortunate recurring thought that happens at random times.

When I was about 8 years old I loved to play checkers with my Grandfather. He loved to play checkers too (or so it seemed to me). More accurately, I loved to win at checkers. I think he liked to win too. Grandpa lived on a farm about 10 miles from town. We would go visit on weekends. After a great Sunday dinner while dad was snoozing on the sofa (he was fun to pester while he was trying to sleep - he took it pretty well), if the weather was bad, Grandpa and I would play checkers. He had an old card table with a checker board on it and a set of old wooden checkers. I always knew where to find them.

After a long game which ended with Grandpa chasing me around the board in a no-hope situation (for me), it was clear that I was about to lose and that Grandpa wasn't going to make a mistake (intentional or otherwise). Finally, in a fit of frustration and immaturity, I kicked the table over and ran away. Upon further review, I was very embarrassed over my behavior. I owed Grandpa an apology.

I held that apology to deliver "someday when the time was right" Our relationship was never quite the same (at least to me). It was always a bit tentative. I certainly can't point to any behavior on his part that would support this change in the relationship. It was all me. That undelivered apology was in the way.

It stayed that way for years. The obligation to apologize for my inappropriate behavior hung in the air at every occasion but I couldn't bring myself to approach the delicate topic. The more time passed, the harder it seemed to find a way to bring up an "old subject." But the obligation didn't go away (it shouldn't have).

A few days after he passed away (when the sense of loss was not overwhelming), it occurred to me that I would never have that "someday" to apologize. My feelings of anxiety around an important obligation instantly turned to regret. A regret that had no apparent ending. No way out.

Now that regret haunts me at random times like this. I can never forget kicking that table over 40+ years ago, the look of surprise on his face.

School's Out!

Is there anything cooler than the last day of school? Even at nearly 50, it's still a special day.

Paint something

My favorite aunt passed away last week. As a child, I was amazed at her career. She was a painter. While all the other women in the world (that I knew about) were housewives or school teachers, she was doing something that just didn't fit. It was cool. She could do fantastic bird whistles too. For years, every time I picked up a paint brush, I thought of her. The last time I saw her, I told her how painting reminded me of her. It felt good. She was talking about getting a replaced knee replaced (it had worn out after 20 years of use). I really don't like painting but thinking of her whistling while she painted makes it a bit less boring for me. I painted for several hours last week.