Time for a Vision Quest

Ever since I moved to Indianapolis in 2002, I’ve wanted to eventually move to Maine. There, I thought I’d walk the Marginal Way each morning, listen and write to the ocean waves in the afternoons, and have lobster rolls and moxie with my Maine man by night.

Eleven years later, I’m pretty sure I want none of it. Except the lobster roll. I definitely still want the lobster roll. Just from Arnold’s in Eastham, Mass, not from Maine. Along with a side order of their onion rings built for a family of four. Oh, and a brownie to rouse me from the coma. Yes, just that. That’s all I want. Delivered and in the off-season to avoid the lines, of course. But just that. 

What has become of me? I think I got old is what. There’s a lot of aging between 40 and 50. People like to say 50 is middle-aged, but shoot me now if I have to be in this world at 100. God only knows what will be on TV by then. I always wondered why older people stayed home so much and now I know: I need a drink or a nap just from a trip to the store lately. It’s all work. 

My son stayed with me for a few days in December and I asked him to notice how hot it got upstairs at night. I mean, boiling hot. Not only did he not notice it he said that he got a little chilly. After several discussions, he asked me if this could be some symptom of menopause. I’m here to tell you that the shock of that never occurring to me in the first place was something, but to have it brought up by your fully-grown son, was quite another.

After some pains reminiscent of childbirth, I ordered a $28 Internal Cleanse program from Amazon. Two days after it arrived in the mail, I got the stomach flu. Now, I’m on the BRAT system. Bananas, rice, applesauce, toast. My stomach’s quieted down a lot, so we’re going to stick with this for a while. Start thinking like nursing home cafeteria menu makers.

I can’t keep enough lotion and hair conditioner in the house. I’m like the Sahara. There’s just never enough moisture.

Which brings me to peeing in cups. I recently had to do this and couldn’t perform. Come to my house in the middle of the night and we’ll have no issues, but during the day, that much productivity ain’t happenin’. Whose cruel joke was it to move the minimum requirement line anyway?

I can’t start a birthday post, without a shout out to the woman who selflessly gave birth to me and passed me along. She just has to be the source of my tiny slivers of courage and conviction. I’m grateful for the life she gave me twice.

Anyway....

My coach (that felt funny), Cynthia Morris, sent out a birthday-related newsletter recently in which she highlighted her year in moments of what she calls JuJu and the ways in which each moment had started with intention and ended with the honoring of her values.

Then, during our last coaching session, we talked about a particular project I’m working on (well, I got pretty far and stopped working on, to be technical) which is definitely a highlight for me, and she asked me what personal values it honored while I was in the creative process of writing it.

I didn’t have an answer, so I got to thinking.

I have two stepbrothers (not the Fling part of the title - ew). It’s weird to refer to them as that, though, because not only did my father remarry when I was in my early twenties – long past the “step” situation, but I haven’t seen the younger one in over 10 years nor the older in even more years.

The younger one, Allen, was eight years old when his parents divorced and a year younger when his mother snagged my father. They married by the time he was nine, I believe.

I was busy with my own life, so I barely knew him, but when we did see each other as adults, I thought he was hilarious. He could particularly tell the funniest stories about his mother (she was a little, how...do...we...say...this...delicately - COLD). I think about this one often:

The original e-mail is actual correspondence. However, the names have been changed to protect the ignorant. The reply is, of course, completely made up.

-----Original Message-----

From: HR Manager
Sent: Friday, July 16th,  2:49 PM
To: Corporate Employees
Subject: Employee of the Month announcement

We are excited about our new Employee of the Month program. Recognition for our accomplishments is way overdue! The program will officially begin on August 1^st. All employees (with the exception of our VPs) are eligible.

At the end of each month, Misty Puckett, our HR clerk, will randomly draw a name from the list of corporate employees. The lucky winner will be our Employee of the Month and have exclusive parking privileges to the best spot on the lot for the following month.

In an effort to “equalize” the chance to win, we will limit the opportunity to win to once per calendar year. Our first drawing will be Friday, July 30^th in the cafeteria. See you there!!

------Reply Message-------

For Miss Hazel Simmons, August 21, 1929 - January 3, 2009

From Oct 2006: Miss Hazel will be 76 this year. She has lived in or within 15 miles of Brownsville, Tennessee, all her life. When she turned 40 in 1969, she bought a brand new ranch-style house on a corner lot of a tiny subdivision on the outskirts of town. And she’s lived there ever since.

She commuted between Memphis and Brownsville several times in her life, but most importantly when she completed her Master’s degree in Education at age 45. She taught in the City of Brownsville and Shelby County schools the rest of her working life.

Even though the town of Brownsville is relatively small, with a population of around 10,000 people, it sure feels smaller to Miss Hazel. She either knows everyone or knows of everyone. And everyone knows her. I think it’s because of all those years teaching. She knew kids who grew into parents whose kids grew into parents.

For all those years of service to her community, Miss Hazel gets a few welcome perks. For example, since grocery shopping can add up to a long walk for someone in their seventies, management suggested that she park in the handicapped parking space at the E.W. James Supermarket until somebody in town had an unfortunate accident last winter and actually needed the space. But not long after, the store employees put up a big sign in front of the space next to it saying, “Preferred Customer Parking”, and designated it as Miss Hazel’s new spot.