Life Turns On A Dime

Just what does that even mean – “Life turns on a dime?” A quick Google search will offer up some explanations for folks unfamiliar with the phrase:

“Since a dime is the smallest U.S. coin, the ability to “turn on it” is a figure of speech meaning you can change direction very quickly in a very small space. In this case, it means that life can change course very quickly. Depending on the circumstances, it can be either good or bad, but either way it will be rapid.“

To “turn on a dime” means turning sharply and/or suddenly. To say that “life can turn on a dime” means that a person’s life can change radically in an instant (or very quickly). It’s more often used to mean someone going from a “good place” to a not-so-good place, but it can also mean suddenly taking a turn for the better.

Turn on a dime is an English idiom meaning change dramatically, suddenly and without warning or coming out of the blue unexpectedly. It usually results from a single event that dramatically alters the course of events either as a negative or a positive.

Stephen King uses that quote quite a bit in his time travel book 11.22.63. It is almost like a theme throughout it. One thing can change history (as in the case of the book) in the blink of an eye. I guess another way of explaining it is that life can change just like that (imagine a finger snap here.)

I had totally prepared to work on my article for the next round of Turntable Talk today, but some things have been tossed into our path that has led to this one instead. I write this as a reminder to you and myself to take nothing for granted. I write this as a reminder to live each day to it’s fullest. I write this as a reminder that life is a fragile thing.

In the baseball game of life, we are thrown many curveballs. Some of those we see coming and some brush us off the plate. Some of those we get ahold of and can knock them out of the park, while many of them we swing at – and miss.

Enjoy every moment. Never miss an opportunity to say “I love you.” Life is too short to hold grudges. These are all things that I have said in one way, shape or form in previous blogs.

It has been hard for me to scroll Facebook lately. So many of my friends are hurting because of sickness, death, grief, or struggle. I pray for each of them daily. Sure, there are plenty of happy moments shared on social media, but in amongst those things are people I care about – hurting. Life turned on a dime for them. Factor in some other news that we’ve been made aware of over the past few weeks and we see life turning on a dime again, this time closer to home.

The storm is off the coast. It is clear as day on the radar. Heading toward us. We will watch it’s course and the skies. We will prepare the best we can. We will do our best to be ready for it. In the meantime, we will enjoy the moments and savor each one.

Speaking to A Stone

This blog will start deep – but I promise a funny story at the end…

I recently read a blog from a friend in Scotland. She is currently visiting with her dad and they took a trip to the local cemetery to visit her mom/his wife, who is buried there. She spoke of how her dad spoke to the various graves in the cemetery. They were all people he knew. She said that each headstone represent someone from his past.

I have visited my share of cemeteries and I really hadn’t thought about it before, but I am also one of those people who speaks to stone. I’m not sure why.

It is my belief, based on Scripture, that those who die as believers in Christ go to heaven when they die. In 2 Corinthians 5 the Bible says to be “absent from the body” is to be “present with the Lord.” Now that being said, why am I talking to gravestones? They are literally big pieces of marble with a name and dates on them.

One time, I remember visiting my grandpa’s grave. I remember standing there, staring at his headstone and talking out loud. I was telling him how much he’d love his grandson (I only had my oldest at the time), and the silly things he did. I thanked him for being such a big part of my life and more.

I always talk to my mom when I visit her grave. I always seem to get more emotional when I am there alone. When I go with my wife or my kids, they almost always give me time alone at the grave. They must know.

I cry when I am there. I miss her terribly. Sometimes I feel robbed that she is not here to be a part of all that is going on. Then I remember the cancer battle and how much pain she was in. I am selfish for wanting her here, but I am grateful that there is no more pain or suffering.

I know that she’d be so happy with what I have done with my life – college, good job, an amazing wife and more grandkids. I also know she’d spoil the heck out of all of those grandbabies if she were still here. She, however, is not. So I stand or sit at her graveside and I tell her how much I miss her, our chats, and other personal things. When I have said my peace, cried my tears, and am ready to go, I take one final look at the stone and walk back to my car.

Maybe I am a bit crazy. I am well aware that I am talking to a stone with my relative or friend’s name on them. I also know that all that is under the stone is the earthly remains, and that the soul that was that person is no longer there. So why do I speak to those loved ones who are no longer here, and why do I only do it at the cemetery? I mean, I could easily do it in the car while I drive, right?

I know that I am not the only one who does this. Perhaps there is some sort of psychological answer. I don’t know. I kind of wish I had the answer.

As Promised – the Funny Story

Coming from an Italian family, there were many times where certain members of my family didn’t speak to each other. Once such case was my grandfather and his sisters. He made it very clear to my grandmother and my dad that when he passed away, he wanted no obituary. He did not want them knowing that he had died.

Those wishes were honored. He passed away in 1994, so there was no internet to look up records or anything like that. There was also no “Find a Grave” website to do a search and find where people, both famous and not famous, were buried.

My grandmother often went to the cemetery to visit my grandfather. There were many Sundays when they would go to trim around the head stone, or put out a grave blanket. Sofia from the Golden Girls reminds me of my grandma. She was a tiny, stubborn, and strong Italian woman.

One day, my dad pulled up to my grandpa’s grave and there were flowers on it. My grandma was out of the car like a shot to see what it was all about. Attached to the flowers was a note, obviously meant for my grandma to find. I don’t recall exactly what it said, but it was something like: “Dear brother. We are only now finding out that you passed away. We loved you so very much. We are sorry that you were kept from us…” or SOMETHING like that.

I have seen my grandma get mad. I was not there for this particular incident, but I can almost bet that a slow boil began in the pit of her stomach and worked its way up. I am sure with each sentence she read her anger grew and her face got red. I am also pretty sure that there was probably some sort of explosion that was audible when she finally “burst.”

(Now get that picture of Sofia from the Golden Girls in your mind as you picture the visual) She grabbed those flowers in one hand, planted herself like a quarterback getting ready to throw a Hail Mary pass, and as she fired those flowers into the air, she screamed, “F^%$ YOU!!!”

As she yelled and the profanity echoed across the cemetery, I am sure birds fluttered into the air, scared for their life. For years, whenever we brought that story up, grandma would casually chuckle and remind us of just how mad she was.

You Don’t Just Lose Someone Once

My friend Kathy posted this on Facebook today. I am in the process of writing something in preparation of the loss of a good friend, so this kind of hit me hard as I read it. It conveys many of the things I was thinking regarding the loss of a friend or loved one. I know it hit home for Kathy, who is still grieving the loss of her husband, and a few of my other friends who lost parents, friends, and relatives.

I felt that it was powerful enough to share. I am unaware of the author. Perhaps you know someone who is grieving today and can share it with them. I apologize for the formatting, as I copied and pasted this from her page.

You Don’t Just Lose Someone Once.

You don’t just lose someone once.

You lose them when you close your eyes at night.

And as you open them each morning.

You lose them throughout the day.

An unused coffee cup.

An empty chair.

A pair of boots no longer there.

You lose them as the sun sets.

And darkness closes in.

You lose them as you wonder why.

Staring at a star lit sky.

You lose them on the big days.

Anniversaries.

Birthdays.

Graduations.

Holidays.

Weddings.

And the regular days too.

You lose them in a song they used to sing.

The scent of their cologne.

A slice of their favorite pie.

You lose them in conversations you will never have.

And all the words unsaid.

You lose them in all the places they’ve been.

And all the places they longed to go.

You lose them in what could have been.

And all the dreams you shared.

You lose them as the seasons change.

The snow blows.

The flowers blossom.

The grass grows.

The leaves fall.

You lose them again and again.

Day after day.

Month after month.

Year after year.

You lose them as you pick up the broken pieces.

And begin your life anew.

You lose them when you realize.

This is your new reality.

They are never coming back.

No matter how much

You miss them or

Need them.

No matter how hard you pray.

They are gone.

And you must go on.

Alone.

Time marches on, carrying them further and further way.

You lose them as your hair whitens and your body bends with age.

Your memory fades.

And the details begin to blur.

Their face stares back at you from a faded photograph.

Someone you used to know.

You think you might have loved them once.

A long time ago.

Back then.

When you were whole.

You don’t just lose someone once.

You lose them every day.

Over and over again.

For the rest of your life.

Close, But No Breakthrough … Yet

I wrote a fun blog already today, so now I need to get this down in writing before I lose it.

In therapy the past few weeks I’ve been working through some pretty deep stuff. Death has been at the forefront of my mind lately, probably due to the many deaths that I have seen in the Facebook feed over the past couple years. Whether those deaths were caused by Covid, cancer, heart attack or whatever, I have certainly felt it hit close to home. Just this week, a friend lost her fiancé and another school friend lost his mother.

This week, we dove into the subject of death itself and people in my life who I have lost. We looked at the loss of my grandparents and the loss of my mother specifically. My therapist asked about the first death I every experienced (my grandpa when I was 11). She asked what I felt when that happened. I wasn’t sure. So we moved ahead to my mom (when I was 36). What was I feeling then?

How was it so hard to come up with what I was feeling? Am I blocking feelings?

I came up with: sad, confusion, fear (scared), helplessness, regret, and guilt. I am guessing that there are many more feelings associated with death, but those are what I pulled out of the top of my head.

So I have a homework assignment. I am to look at each of those words and see how they play into things. How did the deaths affect others in my house?

Basically, it seems that grief is a theme in many of our sessions and we are going to examine it further. We’re going to try to pinpoint what event has brought me to where I am today. She told me that there is a phrase that says, “When your hysterical – it’s historical.” There is usually something “back there” that can lead to the way you react and behave.

Why can’t I accept and get past things? What may be hanging around in my brain? What am I protecting myself from?

I don’t know any of the answers.

After therapy my wife asked how it went. I told her I was still trying to process it. I knew we really struck on something, but I didn’t know what. I also expressed how it scared me. Have you ever been afraid to proceed, because you are just not sure what you might find out? That’s where I am at.

Hopefully, we are working toward some sort of resolution and not something that will mess up my head even more!

Grief

I saw this twice on Facebook today and it really hit me. It is SO very true. I’m sure that collectively, you and I could easily add more true statements to this. I wish I knew who wrote it to give them proper credit.

I am reposting it here, so I will always have it and so that anyone who may stumble on this blog will find it useful as well.

Whether it is because I am getting older or the fact that we are in the middle of this whole Covid pandemic crap, the truth is that I have seen more death in the past two years than I care to. I’m not just talking about the overabundance of famous people who are dying, but the normal every day people in life – classmates, parents of friends, spouses, teachers, fathers, mothers, siblings, grandparents, co-workers, etc… My Facebook feed provides at least two to three links to obituaries a day now.

Many of my friends are still trying to cope with losses that are VERY fresh in their minds. I hope that this helps you or someone you may know who is currently dealing with grief – or has been dealing with it for some time.

Grief

Grief doesn’t just show up the day they die

Grief shows up on a random Monday night

Grief shows up in aisle five at the grocery store

Grief shows up when they’re favorite song comes on the radio

Grief shows up at the dining room table

Grief shows up at your graduation and wedding

Grief shows up in the delivery room when they aren’t by your side or in the pictures

Grief shows up on those sleepless nights

Grief shows up when the phone rings and it isn’t them

Grief shows up when you go to dial their number and realize they’ll never answer again

Grief shows up time and time again always unexpected and never invited

Grief doesn’t just show up the day they die

Sorting Out My G.E.R.D.

Throughout my life, I have seen therapists off and on for various reasons: my weight, depression, grief counseling, anger issues, my divorce, etc … Years ago, I was told by someone close to me that I was not making any progress and I was wasting money and time with therapy, so I stopped going. This led to many personal issues and my coming to the conclusion that before I could really “fix” the things I was having problems with, I had to “fix” me.

This led to me finding a therapist and sorting out many things. This blog’s creation stems from some of those therapy sessions. I had mentioned how therapeutic writing used to be and it was suggested to do it again. I have found it to be extremely helpful as I continue to sort out things.

Now, let me say that I know many people who are in therapy. Some of those people have these “breakthrough” sessions where they have an epiphany of some sort. Some of them have found that “one thing” that ties everything together. I have not had anything even close to that, although over the past couple sessions I feel like I’m getting close to something.

One topic that comes up often during the sessions is the death of my mom. I am very aware that she is not here. The anniversaries of her passing and her birthday weigh heavily on my mind when they happen. There are so many events that have happened since she passed away that find me wishing she was here for them. To sum it up briefly – I am dealing with many emotions when it comes to her.

There have been other developments in my life that have often taken up the precious 45 minute sessions that have delayed me really being able to dive in to the subject lately. But with some discussion and some pretty tough questions, I am sorting through my own G.E.R.D.

When you hear GERD, you think Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease because that is what it is often referred as. While I do suffer from GERD, the GERD I am sorting through consists of four specific things that surround many of the issues I am dealing with: Grief, Expectations, Regret, and Disappointment (and/or Depression).

These four things will become the subject of talks in the upcoming sessions. I have these four words written down in a notebook. Each has a page and I hope to be able to connect certain things to certain words and feelings. As of yet, I don’t have much of anything written. I stare at those four words and know that they are important. What about them will bring a resolution and allow me to put some of the baggage behind me and move forward?

I’m working on it …..

Holiday Grief

The song says, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” but for some, it isn’t. Some are dealing with grief and the loss of a loved one and I tend to think that the holidays make that grief a bit more difficult than it already is.

I have written about death and grief before. In reflecting on events of the past few days and past few months, I was moved to revisit an old blog and write again on the subjects.

Back in August, a classmate passed away from Covid-19. This week, one of my dearest friend’s brother passed away. Both were under 55.

In a previous blog, I wrote: I understand that death is a part of life. I am reminded of a quote from my psychology class that said, “The hardest part of losing someone isn’t having to say goodbye, but rather learning to live without them – always having to fill the void, the emptiness that’s left inside your heart when they go.” This is so true. Leo Buscaglia said, “Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time.” Also true. Bruce Lee, who died at the young age of 32, said, “If you love life, don’t waste time, for time is what life is made up of.”

That blog was written after another friend of mine passed away unexpectedly at 47. I talk about how precious time is and how death and time often tie together. I mention in that blog that “life” also ties in with time and death. “Live every day as if it were your last. Someday, you’ll be right.” That quote was written on the band room announcement grease board some 33 years ago by our band director, Tom Shaner and it will always remain with me.

Every year, I would look forward to the Shaner’s Christmas card. They often would share photos and a yearly recap. Tom would always scribble a little note off to the side of the card to me and sign it “TRoy.” Tom passed away a couple days before Christmas last year. Today, the Shaner Christmas letter arrived, this time with a hand written note from his wife. She continues to grieve, as do the rest of his family.

At the end of her letter, she included a quote that I have never seen before, but found to be absolutely perfect. I wanted to share it here because I know many others who are grieving this holiday season. The quote reads: “When we lose someone we love, we must learn not to live without them, but to live with the love they left behind.” (Unknown)

That quote is SO VERY TRUE! It can apply to someone who you have lost recently or many years ago. It also ties in with the last quote I used in my previous blog about life, death, and time. The blog reads: The late author Terry Pratchett says this: “No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away.”

Whether you are grieving the loss of a loved one or friend who has passed away recently, or a long time ago – every time you think of them there are ripples. Every story you tell, there are ripples. Every smile they bring to your face, there are ripples. They live on and their love lives on – and the ripples continue….

A Letter to Mom

Mother’s Day – 2019

Dear Mom,

Christopher and I met some time ago and mapped out a project to honor your memory. I have written a few things that will be included in it. Some of them have appeared here on my blog page. I’ve gone through pictures and have picked out favorites. I have other ideas as well, and eventually, we will produce and publish it.

The night Chris and I talked about this project, we exchanged ideas of what we could do. One of my favorite ideas he suggested was to write you a letter. You would think that it would be extremely easy to sit down and write to you, but this one simple idea has turned out to be the most difficult of them all! I have started letters to you more than once, but I cannot seem to be able to finish them. Today, I am going to write this! Through tears and pain, today, I will complete this letter!

Today will mark the 13th Mother’s Day that has passed since you passed away. I won’t even begin to pretend that it gets easier. It doesn’t – I wish you were here. I wish I could once again tell you in person, how grateful and how thankful I am that YOU were chosen to be my mother. I wish you knew how happy it made me growing up to know I was making you proud of me. You were my biggest cheerleader and there have been SO many times that I have needed you since you have been gone.

So many things have changed over the years. There have been countless times that I have wanted to call you. There have been so many times I needed to hear your voice. I have needed your guidance and advice more times than I can count. Before making big decisions, I have found myself asking, “What would mom say about this?” The longing to be able to share just one more conversation with you is ever present, and never seems to go away.

I have been told by so many people that you would be proud of me. I believe that. I graduated college, mom! All those times you told me to go to school and get a degree and I kept playing around on the radio … I’m sure it drove you crazy! Well, I now have that degree! I worked hard for it and earned it – knowing the whole time that it was what you and dad always wanted me to do. Even though you were not there physically, I felt you there in spirit. As I addressed the entire graduating class – I pictured you there, smiling and proud. When I mentioned you in my speech, it was the only time I thought I might break down.

You won’t believe this, but Dante’ is 17 now! He is in high school now! I don’t even know where the time went, mom! He’ll graduate next year! I remember you telling me how fast I grew up and how you couldn’t believe I was graduating…I completely know how you felt. He is quite the young man, mom. He is so friggin’ smart! He has made such an impact on his teachers and friends. They all talk of what a joy he is. He is polite and a gentleman. He is always going out of his way to help people by holding the door and things like that.

You’ll be happy to know that he wants to do something with trains when he graduates. I would venture a guess that it is probably because of that day you took him to the Day Out With Thomas the Tank Engine! He STILL talks about that day. It is a memory that he will never forget – and neither will I. He misses you, too. He never lets me forget your birthday, Mother’s Day, or the anniversary of your passing. We have spent many hours at your grave sharing memories, laughing and crying. He always makes sure that we stop and get flowers for you, when we visit. He will never forget the love you showed him, and you remain one of the most special people in his life – you made quite the impact on him in 4 short years. Both of us are glad that we have so many pictures of you two together!

Remember that day we were all together at dad’s? You were trying to sleep and Dante’ was running around being loud? You laughed and I asked you what was so funny. Do you remember your response? I do. “I hope when you have your next baby that it is another boy. That way, you will know just what kind of stuff you and your brother put your dad and I through!” Well, and I have my suspicions that you played a hand in this, your wish came true. Dimitri was born shortly after you left us.

Blonde hair and blue eyes – I know you’d have spoiled him just as much as you did Dante’! Yes, they fight with each other, just like Chris and I did! There are many times I yell back to them in the car and I can hear you saying the same thing to Chris and me! It’s pretty amazing to put pictures of Chris and me next to pictures of the two of them – it’s crazy how much they look like us! Dimitri loves to sing and is in choir. He’s in middle school now and he’s quite compassionate. He is SO competitive and gives his all and hates to lose! He plays video games and gets into them much like you got into playing that pinball game at the Dugout!

He is always telling us how much he wishes he could have met you. He hears stories from Dante’ and he gets sad. He knows what an amazing grandma you were and he wishes that he could have share some memories with you, like his brother. I wish that he could have, too. I think that’s the only disconnect I have from him. Dante and I can talk about you and the times you shared together, but Dimitri gets sad, because he missed out on that, and that makes me sad, too.

I had a very difficult time after you passed away. There was quite the roller coaster of emotions I had to deal with. I was in a deep state of grief, trying to cope with your death and at the same time, there was the joy of the birth of Dimitri. Factor in the stress of the loss of another radio job, depression, and a variety of other issues and you can guess how messed up I was. I was taking all kinds of medications, altering the dosage, adding new ones and changing to different ones in hopes of finding a way to cope and to be happy. All that did was make me someone I was not. There are times I do not even remember saying or doing things. It took me many years to get through it and to address the issues I was facing. This meant doing some things that took me out of my comfort zone. This meant facing some hard truths about me and where I was in life. This meant severing ties with things and people that were holding me back and forcing me into a whirlwind of unhappiness. It was not a good place for me – or anyone else close to me.

I am ashamed to admit that I thought of ending my life. The unhappiness and depression were very bad. With help from therapy, I was able to look at some things in my life and make a very difficult decision. Divorce was not easy. Coming out on the other side, the true colors of those who I thought cared about me began to show. Rumors and untruths continue to be spread in an attempt to discredit me and make me look bad. You, of all people, know that I am far from perfect. However, it hurt to see how quickly people took sides and believed so many lies. It is hard to not let that bother me, but I have gained some powerful tools through therapy and true friends that have helped. I have been able to move forward.

Mom, all you ever wanted for me was to be happy. I am SO happy today. What I wouldn’t give for you to meet my wife, Sam. She is amazing. She is beautiful. She doesn’t take any crap from anyone! She does what needs to be done and doesn’t make rash decisions. You would like her a lot. She is supportive, honest, responsible, and loves me. I love her more that I could ever explain to you. She is one of the hardest working people I have ever met. She is a true blessing to me. She loves Dad, Rose, and the boys, too. It is because of her, that I am where I am today. She was a lifesaver, mom. She asks about you often and loves to hear me tell stories about you. I want you to know that she is taking good care of your boy, and she is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Because of all that has transpired, and where I am now, my relationship with Dad and Chris are stronger than they’ve ever been. We speak often on the phone and I have seen them more over the past two years than I probably did through that first marriage. Sam will often ask, “Have you talked to your dad? Did you call your brother?” It’s pretty amazing. She knows how things were in the past, and refuses to let that continue. While I am glad to have those relationships thrive, it makes me sad that I missed SO many things with you during that time. I should have stood up more and made sure we spent more time with you – I regret that so very much. For that, I am sorry.

It hurts to look back and know what I could have and should have changed. Hindsight is 20/20. Oh, the things I would have done different! I would have called more, mom. I would have made more time to come visit. I would have told you I love you, every chance I got. The list of “should haves” “could haves” and “would haves” is SO long!!! There are things that I wish I would have wrote down or asked you. So many things that left with you that I can only wish that I had asked about.

Oh, and before I forget to mention it – thanks for your letter. We found them almost a year after you left us. It was probably the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. Here was a letter to me that you had written years before Dante’ was born. “Know that I love you” was the first thing you told me. I think it probably took me 20 minutes to compose myself after reading that line. My eyes are welling up with tears right now as I remember it. Thank you for that. I have it, along with the tissue I wiped your tears away with on your last night here and other things that remind me of you. I only wish that you had been able to write something to Dante’ – I know he would treasure that as much as he treasures the photo book you made him with those pictures from Thomas the Train.

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13 years gone and yet it still seems like yesterday. So many holidays without you. So many birthdays. 13 Mother’s Days. I hope that you always knew how much I loved you and still love you. I hope you know how much I miss you. I hope you know that even though there were things we didn’t see eye to eye on everything, I was glad that God chose to make you my mom.

Thank you, mom, for all you gave me. Thank you for the many days you stayed home with me when I was sick. Thank you for the hours of phone calls containing laughter and tears. Thanks for the memories that will live on in my heart and soul. Thank you for putting band aids on cuts and scrapes. Thank you for singing off key in the car. Thank you for being such a wonderful grandma. Thanks you for your wisdom. Thank you for understanding hugs. Thank you for telling dad things I told you not to tell him. Thanks for every single thing you did for me – there is probably not enough room on the internet to list them all. Most of all, thank you for being my mom. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I miss you and will forever love you.

“See you later”

Love always, your son,

Keith

7 mos with Mom

“My mind knows you are gone, but my heart will never be able to accept it.”