Distilled D.G.

Sometimes I move too quickly.  I don’t fill my life with many things, but I sometimes tend to pour myself into those things and lose track of everything else (especially when those things involve cameras or volleyball :-P).  But sometimes I miss things, and I think I start to act kinda weird because it tends to sit on my heart.

So right now I’m taking a step back for a moment because I can’t skip over this part.  In the last few weeks I’ve lost two friends and one canine family member from my life.  While all had lived long loves, it doesn’t make me miss them any less.

First, the canine friend.  My “Uncle” Choco was one of the smartest dogs I’d ever met (possibly the smartest).  Like many toy poodles, he was packed with the attitude of a dog ten times his size.  It also just made me happy to see how happy he has made my grandparents over the years, especially my grandfather.  He even took after my grandfather in a lot of ways, making them often two peas in a pod.  It’s an adjustment to think he won’t be there next time I see them.

The sky is always there.  Sometimes it’s sunny, sometimes it’s cloudy, but it’s always in the same place when you go to look for it.  That’s what made this last Sunday so hard for me.  I often run the projector on Sundays and, unlike most churches, our projectionists sit toward the front, right on the aisle.  And right across the aisle would be Nancy.  She would get to church early and always say hi.  And when it came time for worship, she would sing with her whole heart.  I guess a part of me kinda depended on her being there (before church on Sunday can be a bit of chaos, and you just get used to having someone who’s always there).  And then she wasn’t.  To me she embodied this welcoming kindness that is so much of what Presby is to me, and it won’t be the same without her.

And then there’s Frank.  There are those out there who succumb to age, but he was not one of them (despite his health).  Maybe someone just forgot to tell him.  He was such a character.  He was also one of the most supportive people I’ve met.  He made it a point to pull me aside and encourage me.  He always had a smile on his face and could always put a smile on mine.  There’s this very short list of people in my heart that, if I ended up anything like them, I would count my life a success, and he’s one.  I miss him so much.

This is all going to take some adjustment.

In any case, these fixtures in my life are gone for now.  I just imagine, many many many years in the future (I plan to live to 400 at least), when I get to heaven, Nancy will walk up and say hi just like always and Frank will put his hand on my shoulder and smile.

(And I’ll hear Choco barking at something off in the distance)

Okay, time to go back to being busy again.

As I’m waiting for laundry to finish, I wrote a poem 😛

—

A heart divded shall not stand
I do not know where I will land
My head is full of things and stuff
My home is full of things enough

In morrow gaze to see my way
With no appreciation for the day
Shiny shiny all around
Fascination every sound

A heart divded shall not stand
I do not know where I will land
My head is full of things and stuff
My home is full of things enough

In moments I will find my grace
High atop this beauty place
Waves and oceans, breeze and sun
My shoes are off, ahead I run

The cool refresh, a world gone by
I know not why its now I cry
But free I am, as blue and white
And soar above my heart delight

—

I might add more to it later.  I used to have daydreams as a kid about being able to fly, specifically in the wind at the beach (where I spent a lot of time growing up).

Last week, I was talking to a friend. She mentioned that one of the interesting traits to smart people is that they usually know that they are smart. I said that, for me, it was because of the way people treated me. On one side, the teachers would treat me differently; I had extra opportunities and extra encouragement. On the other side, because I was the “over-achiever” (and I’m pretty sure obnoxiously so), other students would treat me differently. Once I got to junior high and high school, it got even worse as I would take more classes with older students and interacted more with students like me. I was apparently annoying enough for my pre-calc teacher (I was very enthusiastic about math at the time) that she moved me to the back of the class. This turned out to be a good thing since that’s when I realized I needed glasses. Hehe.

By my junior year, I was so tired of it. In high school, sometimes you just want to blend in. That’s when I had an opportunity. Not being very good at history, I took regular U.S. History instead of AP with my friends. This put me in a class with a bunch of people I really didn’t know well, so I made a decision. I was going to be normal. I wasn’t going to raise my hand, even if I knew the answer. I wasn’t going to stand out. And, oddly, it worked.

I made some really good friends in that class. Friendships that became the model for my friendships in college and later. Among those friends, two I remember very well were J. and Tony. I don’t remember much from the class (especially a full list of who else was there, which I’ll probably get reminded about), but I remember we had a lot of fun. I don’t know why, but that class and those friends were so special to me (to the point where this memory was so strong last week as I was talking about it with my friend). I guess it was because they made me feel like I was normal.

After the class, I’d still see them and hang out in the halls, as I would with my other friends. The last time I saw Tony was my 18th birthday party, the night before he went off to boot camp to become a Marine. I’ve assumed everything has been okay with him. During the height of the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, I would check the casaulty list regularly to make sure he wasn’t on it. I’d kept in contact with J. most of the time since, usually involving nerdy computer stuff and the work he was doing (he had what I considered a dream job, working at an ISP). Once facebook came around, it was nice because I got to see his family grow and him going on all these adventures as he loved scaling every snowy peak he could set his eyes on.

And maybe that’s why. That’s why I haven’t been able to keep my eyes dry today. Someone that made a big difference in my life is now gone. His friendship was one of a chain that helped me become the person I am today (as opposed to the shy, awkward, and often obnoxious kid I used to be).

J., I never told you, but you really did make a big difference in my life, and I’m going to miss you so much. I just keep looking at this picture you took that your brother put up, with the amazing final view from atop Mt. Hood. And I know you’re on an even bigger adventure now, with an even greater view.  Bye for now.

Welcome to my new wordpress blog.  I have other blogs around (an old xanga one and some stuff on facebook), but thought I’d start something new.

In some ways it’s an experiment, as I fully intend to have a variety of topics I’ll be writing about, and I assume most audiences will only care about one or two types.  So I definitely suggest, if you subscribe to this blog, that you use the category filters, unless you really do want to get it all :-P.

-D.G. Brown