Needing an electrician for the parking lot of the building I work, the owner asked me if I knew anyone. “My Uncle,” I told him.
Seeing someone I’m so fond of at my work both yesterday and today was lovely, even if he was 11-feet up on a ladder and relegated to the back parking lot.
So I had sessions right up until 8pm tonight, otherwise known as pitch-black o’clock. I know I’m probably safe, but the long walk to the car is a little scary so I will sometimes call Dave.
Not tonight though – tonight was different.
How so, you ask? Well, the lot was so alit and brilliantly brilliant from my Uncle’s master touch that even Clark Griswold himself would have blushed.
Anyway, I’m exhausted. A good exhausted, but still exhausted.
While relieving my puppies from their kennel (feet from their shoes), I was reminded of Mr. Roger’s routine on his show, of changing clothes upon returning home from the day. Then the song he sang rang in my head too.
“It’s such a good feeling,
a very good feeling
that I’ll be back when the day is new
And I’ll have more ideas for you
And you’ll have things you’ll want to talk about
I will, too.”
What a human, right?
I found myself reflecting on his life; his speech to Congress, his autobiography, and the movie Tom Hanks depicted him in, along with the countless hours I sat with my legs crossed in the living room in front of our rabbit-eared tv watching the Neighborhood-of-Make-Believe
The man he was, the message he conveyed, the life lived. It’s like, how did he do it?
I’ll answer that.
I think a large part was he really believed in his mission. His values aligned like stars to form a most beautiful constellation that people could look to and believe in – something real.
On another topic. Yesterday was 24 years since my Mom died. I haven’t taken time to reflect on it, and I don’t know why.
I guess it’s because there’s more to the story than just that one day. So much more.
Like, two weeks before, she’d taken me to get my license for my 16th birthday, and we’d gone to lunch. We blasted The Lion King soundtrack on the sound system as she let me drive her 1996 (only two-year-old) Chevy Camaro.
There are things of my Mom’s, and stuff she gave me lying around the house today. Like stickers. Not long ago, I ran across packets of them that she’d used to buy every time she went in the Lindon Bookstore (it’s no longer there) in Enumclaw. I let Evelyn have them. Seeing a heart or cat sticker on something random around the house gives me the feeling that she’s here. In just a different way.
Oh, and pink roses too; I can’t see a pink rose and not think of her.
All this to say is I’m ok with reflecting a day late. Because there is no late today. I get to honor her memory whenever, however and as often I choose. Which is pretty cool.
Anyway, it’s time for bedtime. I have an eight-client load tomorrow, which means I need to be in the tippest of toppest shape. And that starts with rest.
Thank you for listening. It means so very much.