I Am Not Kidding Around

I have a meeting at 3 PM tomorrow that has my heard pounding just a little bit or maybe that is from the workout I had today.

The one where I sat in the car thinking that my body was responding in a way that was unusual. I didn’t feel quite right and couldn’t figure out what it was.

Took a moment to try to decide if I was short of breath or feeling chest pain and answered myself by saying ‘no.”

Tried to figure out again what wasn’t right and never did come up with anything that made sense and scratched my head thinking how odd it was that I didn’t feel right but couldn’t describe what was off.

Given that whatever was wrong disappeared and I felt normal again I wondered if perhaps it was stress.

I have known about this meeting since before I left for LA and have mostly ignored it because there was no point getting aggravated.

But now on the verge of it being here I am ready to just get it over with.

****

There was a moment around sunset that reminded me of what I used to see when I lived in my apartment in Grapevine and a bit from Fort Worth.

I looked up at the sky and said, “you know I am not kidding around. It is time.”

No one answered out loud, but I swear the bells went off inside my head.

Restaurants

The morning my father died I went to breakfast with my mother and middle sister at a deli close to mom’s place.

It was one I had passed by a million times during trips to and from the summer camp I went to as a kid and worked at as a counselor.

One that I had passed a million times heading between LA and Santa Barbara but aside from recognition of having passed it often I had no personal experience with it prior to that morning.

I can’t tell you if I had an omelette, oatmeal or something else that morning. I sat across from my mom and sister, but I am not positive if it was a booth or table.

There was coffee and the image of watching the guy from the mortuary put my father into the body bag and the memory of walking behind him to make sure he didn’t have trouble loading dad into his minivan.

And there was the memory of the hospice nurse who tried to block my view. I think she did it out of kindness but I didn’t need that to be blocked, I needed to see it.

Even though I had spent time with him after he died and before he was moved I needed it. I knew it was important for me

****

I remember telling my father and my grandfather about the telephone call in which I learned my uncle had died. I have a memory of going out to eat with them afterwards, but not precisely that day.

I remember my grandfather calling me Mark and the look my father gave me, the one that said “don’t say anything.”

I wasn’t going to, I was almost 25 and had no need of that reminder.

It was plain to see how painful it was for grandpa.

What I can’t remember is exactly where we went, but I remember the coffee.

****

I went back to the deli last month because I didn’t want to see it and have my first memory be that it was the place we went to eat after dad died.

Didn’t take anyone with me intentionally and didn’t order a sit down meal. I just got a couple of pastries that were overpriced for what they were.

Tasted just ok but that was alright we me because I didn’t need them to do more than help wipe out the one memory.

I won’t forget the first time I went there or why, but I don’t need it to be the first memory I have when I pass by.

I Am Still Not Kidding Around

When the kids were still playing organized soccer my daughter once told me she was frustrated by a few things that were happening.

I told her to go get the ball and take control of the situation.

“You can still be a team player but you can also help guide and manage what is going on.”

I told her that I had often done that in the pickup basketball games I played in. If I thought things weren’t running the way I wanted them to I rebounded harder and got the ball.

I changed up the defense and I did what I could within my abilities on that court to impact things.

It didn’t always go my way and sometimes I was still frustrated but I felt better that I had taken action.

That philosophy hasn’t changed. If I don’t like a particular situation or feel the need to have an important conversation I will make them happen.

Might write a letter, might send an email or might break bread.

Point is the same, sometimes you need to take action, can’t always rely upon the memories of a cup of coffee, pizookie or corned beef.