The Message In the Music

The introduction.  The most difficult part of any story, blog post, essay, etc.  When I write these blogs, I spend an eternity trying to figure out how to start them.  Maybe it would be easier if I posted more often; it's been about seven months since my last post.  But as I've mentioned before, I like to wait until something meaningful happens that is worth writing about.  Our days are filled with small moments, most of which aren't really worth sharing with the rest of the world.  Today, however, I had one of those bigger moments.  One that I feel compelled to write about and share...with whomever may be interested.

I should probably start with a backstory, though any who've read my previous posts already know about it.  Nearly seven years ago, I endured perhaps one of the most difficult times in my life.  My mother, whom I adored, succumbed to cancer.  It was a long, hard battle for her - three years of radiation, chemotherapy, new medications, old medications, visits to the family doctor's and oncologist's offices, days spent in bed when she was too weak to even stand, countless times in the bathroom vomiting from the side effects of whatever new drugs the doctors wanted to pump into her system, losing her hair, becoming so thin at times that she looked emaciated.  To this day, I'm surprised she survived as long as she did.  Yet through it all, a part of me believed that if I prayed hard enough, she would be cured.  God couldn't possibly let such a wonderful soul like hers suffer for no reason.  I was wrong, and when she finally passed, I crashed hard, as did most of the family.
As the months and years passed after her death, I had friends and family tell me of dreams they had where they spoke to Mom.   They relayed stories of seeing Mom in their dreams, and the sense of calm, peace, and (maybe most importantly) closure that they felt afterward.  Some would tell me of specific moments when they felt, even knew, that Mom was there.  A sound, a whisper, a slight breeze through their hair, some small event that told them beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mom was still with them.

I, however, wasn't so lucky.  After Mom passed, I never once dreamed of her.  I didn't hear her voice.  I didn't see her face.  As far as I was concerned, Mom was in heaven, which by itself gave me some comfort, but didn't give me any closure.  There were times where I thought "maybe", but nothing had happened which gave me definitive proof that she was there, at least nothing that I could see.  I often felt sad, thinking that Mom was taking the time to make her presence known to others, but not to me. I talked to her many times, sometimes asking her to show me a sign, hoping that she'd somehow hear me and do or say something to remind me that she hadn't completely left me. In the time since she passed, I learned to accept what happened, but still felt hurt that so many others had their closure (at least they said they did), while I continued to struggle with my loss. It was only about two years ago that I was able to go to her grave site and tell her goodbye and that I was okay with her being gone.  That provided some solace, but deep down, I still felt sadness.  I wondered if I’d ever have that feeling of closure and if the wound in my heart would ever truly heal.  I wondered too if I’d ever have that feeling that others had, that feeling of just knowing she’s around and still watching.  Today, I got my answer.

While getting ready for lunch, I climbed into to my Escape, trying to figure out exactly where I wanted to go.  The town where I work has so many culinary pleasures in which to indulge that the task of simply choosing a place to eat requires an extra half hour of contemplation before lunch even starts.  As I was sitting in my SUV, thinking and listening to my stomach growling in its usual low bass tone, a song popped into my head:  God Exalted Him.  I’d not heard that song for a very long time, and at the moment, I had no idea why it came to mind.  Once the title was there, I immediately felt that I had to hear it again.  If I did nothing else the rest of the day, I had to hear that song.  I fumbled with my cell phone, hastily pulling up You Tube and frantically searching the phrase “god exalted him”.  Luckily, there are a few gospel music aficionados out there who like the song well enough to post videos of it.  I pulled up a video of three young girls singing a very nice three-part harmony of the song.  I sat back in the driver seat with my eyes closed, letting the sounds of soprano, mezzo-soprano, and alto voices wash over me.

As the main chorus approached, I felt myself getting choked up.  I struggled to fight back the emotion welling up inside me.  From nowhere, I felt a wave of sadness, but it was somehow mixed with catharsis.  Music has always been important to me, but to be so affected by a song was, needless to say, shocking and a bit embarrassing.  Why did I suddenly think of this song, and why was it hitting me so hard?  I continued to listen, and my mind drifted to Mom.  

While Mom was still alive and before she became ill with cancer, she and my father were members of a choir called The Queen’s Vagabonds.  They were a magnificent group, and they performed numerous gospel songs, each rendition rehearsed into utter perfection. Listening to their singing was pure joy for me, and their repertoire was quite extensive.  One of those songs…was God Exalted Him.

I remembered Mom talking to me about that song years ago, and telling me it was one of her favorites.  She looked forward to every performance that included it, and when she watched videos of the performances afterward, she would often get emotional.  The four-part harmony that came forth through the members’ powerful voices was overwhelming, especially with that song.  One could say it was one of their signature songs.  The video I was watching on You Tube was good, yet didn’t compare to the beautiful tones of The Queen’s Vagabonds.  I continued to listen to the video, but in my imagination, I pictured Mom and Dad’s choir singing it.

That instant, while my imagination ran free, I had a sudden epiphany.   I thought about the many other times when I’d been busy at work or at home, and one of Mom’s songs would discreetly find its way into my mind.  I’d catch myself humming the chorus line, albeit not as well as Mom would’ve done it.  I’d finish the song and go about my business, none the wiser.  Until today, I shrugged off those particular musical moments as some random event, an errant neuron firing in my brain and bringing up some miscellaneous song from the dusty musical Rolodex in my head.  But today it felt different, and comparing this moment to all those others made them seem different too.

I figured out what those moments meant.  Mom was talking to me.  She’d been talking to me all along…through music.  Mom knew how much I enjoyed music, and she also knew that I knew what her favorite songs were.  Anne Murray’s You Needed Me, The Carpenters’ Close To You, Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville’s All I Need To Know, and now, God Exalted Him.  All these songs and several others have crossed my mind at some point.  They’re not necessarily my favorites (even though I know the words), but I know Mom loved all of them.  Each time I caught myself humming them, it wasn’t a random thought.  It was Mom, reminding me that she’s still watching, and communicating to me in a way she knew I’d understand…eventually.  She’s always been with me, and she’s been trying to tell me so all this time.  I just wasn’t listening.

After a couple minutes, God Exalted Him ended, as did my emotional breakdown.  I put the Escape in drive and headed off to lunch.  The rest of today, I felt relaxed and at peace, though anyone who read my comments about work on Facebook would think otherwise.  The hole in my heart that was created by Mom’s death closed a little bit, and I knew that Mom was reaching out to me, just not in the same way that she’d reached out to others.

I might be delusional.  A strictly rational person would likely say those musical memories really are random, just a coincidence that I’m using to alleviate my sense of loss.  But faith isn’t rational, and love isn’t rational.  They exist in the soul, not the mind.  I have renewed faith that my loved ones are never really gone, and my love for them – and their love for me – never truly dies.  They will always be with me.  All I have to do is pay attention to the signs, be they a whisper on the wind, a stroke of good luck…or just a little song.

The Supreme Court Decision - A Disservice Unparalleled

Over the past few months, my stance on political issues has been somewhat silent.  I've posted a handful of articles on Facebook, and subsequently commented on others' posts, usually with some snarky response which, while meant to be amusing, still represented my true feelings about the subject under discussion.  After all, there is truth in humor - at least sometimes.  My biggest voice, however, has been at the voting booths.  I've watched events play out, while not as actively debating about them as I used to.  Certainly not because I've changed my opinion about any of this.  I'm as stubborn as I always was.  I've just attempted to avoid most controversy and negativity for the sake of my own mental health - a decision whose basis and reason is only known by a few of my closest friends.  (That, of course, is a subject for another time.)  But in light of today's events, I feel compelled to express my opinion(s).

Needless to say, I found today's events to be disappointing and frustrating.  To say I'm disgusted with the entire health care debacle would be an understatement.  I don't believe the previous health care system was perfect.  Denial based on pre-existing conditions, manipulation of premium rates, "selective" coverage - all those were items that needed to be (and still NEED to be) addressed.  I am not convinced, however, that this new health care law is the solution.  I am floored that some of the glaring flaws bound in the overwhelmingly complex document have either slipped past or been ignored by the Supreme Court.  I am annoyed that, rather than discuss the real nuts and bolts of the health care reform, the Supreme Court would rather play a game of semantics about a mandate not being a tax, a tax not being a mandate, or whatever other linguistic loophole they can hide behind.  I'm furious that the Supreme Court preferred to disregard each citizen's right to individual liberty by allowing such a law to continue existing.  Were it not for my intense love for this country, and the ideals and beliefs instilled within me by my parents, I'd be tempted to defect to another country.   (Yes, that's right Facebook/government spy committee - I said "defect".)

One of my first contentions is the ability of those in Congress and other roles of power to opt out of the coverage.  Those in these positions are supposed to be American citizens, and as such, should be subjected to the same rules and regulations that they set forth for everyone else.  If they're convinced this new law is for the betterment of America, then why would they feel the need to opt out of it?  What do they know that we don't?  When the question of coverage opt-out was posed to members of Congress over the past several months, I never heard any of them address it directly.  Why would American citizens be forced to have coverage if these people are not?  Based on the language in the document, not ALL these people are able to opt out, but "Congressional staff who work for Committees or Leadership...are exempt, as are White House staffers." (excerpt taken from http://gerlach.house.gov/hottopics/congressmyths.htm)  If the law applies to all other citizens, why do these specific individuals get an exception?

The forced coverage is my second contention.  I will admit that I haven't read the document front to back, nor have I hired a lawyer to interpret its insanely long and wordy pages.  Doing so would likely cost hundreds of hours or thousands of dollars.  My understanding thus far, however, is that citizens will eventually be forced to carry medical coverage.  While having medical insurance is certainly a wise choice, the fact is that it should remain a CHOICE, not a requirement.  For the government to say we don't have the option of carrying or not carrying coverage is a direct assault on our personal rights.  Furthermore, I've heard people say that we DO still have a choice.  We don't HAVE to have insurance.  My argument to that is: What about the fine imposed on people who don't carry coverage?  (Try to call it a tax, mandate, or whatever word makes you feel more comfortable - it's a fine.)  If we are still being given a choice, then why does the government feel the need to impose a negative consequence?  It's like telling someone that, if they don't go out with you or drive a car of which you approve, you'll kill them.  That doesn't sound like a real choice to me.

The whole concept of so-called health care "exchanges" is yet another issue with which I'm not comfortable.  It appears that these exchanges would include government-sanctioned health plans from which American citizens could choose.  It might be a great idea in theory, but the fact that the GOVERNMENT is deciding what does and doesn't qualify as an acceptable plan seems like a perfect example of the principal-agent problem.  The government is helping provide insurance, but they're also able to say what that insurance has to be.  Ultimately, you're still choosing a health care plan that the government created, whether you want to admit it or not.  This problem is further emphasized by the fact that the government will be providing its OWN health care plan.  First, they're telling other insurance companies what they can or cannot do, then they're coming in with their own option.  This whole scenario, in my opinion, contradicts the idea of free enterprise.  For those who may be uncertain of the meaning of that concept, here it is: 

free enterprise
Definition

Business governed by the laws of supply and demand, not restrained by government interference, regulation or subsidy. also called free market.

(Read more: http://www.investorwords.com/2085/free_enterprise.html#ixzz1z8OWl2gI)

If these private insurance companies are forced to comply with government-imposed rules and regulations, then this  certainly isn't a free enterprise, and isn't that one of the things that's supposed to make the United States of America so great?

The ability of the government to draw upon massive funds creates another issue.  The government has billions, even trillions of dollars at its disposal - much more than many other independent or publicly-owned insurance compan(ies).  In turn, the government would likely be able to offer its own health care plans at a much lower premium than other private companies.  Let's face it, the government has more finances upon which it can draw to cover expenses - beyond just the insurance premiums - while insurance companies have to rely more heavily, if not solely, on those premiums.  As more people move toward the lower premiums offered by government health care, private insurance companies will have less of those clients available, and will have to increase the premiums on their remaining ones.  In turn, more people won't be able to afford private insurance, and continue to move toward government insurance.  You see the cycle yet?

Then the real fun begins.  Once private insurance companies are basically pushed out of the market (if we can still call it that), the government will have created a monopoly, free to manipulate pricing and coverage at its own will.  (If I'm not mistaken, antitrust laws exist to prevent the creation of such monopolies, but based on one of my previous contentions, I think we've already shown that those in power don't consider themselves subject to existing laws.)  Those who agree with the health care law can argue that the type of coverage offered by the government is stated in the bill, and is set in stone, but if those people think that the current language in the bill won't change at that point, they're sorely mistaken.  The government is able to file amendments for a reason, and once they've established themselves as the only source of health insurance coverage, they're pretty free to do whatever they want with it.

I could probably spend the next few days debating and ranting about the reasons why I disagree with this bill, but I think at this point, I've expressed my more serious ones.  I've stated these in other forums, sometimes to voices of approval, sometimes to voices of dissent.  Yet for all those who disagree with me, I have yet to meet one person who has proven, without a shadow of a doubt, that any of my points aren't legitimate, possible, or factual.  The fact that the Supreme Court chose to ignore all these things is truly upsetting.  If they honestly considered my and other people's arguments that I've heard, then I don't understand how they could feel that the new health care law is Constitutional OR effective.  To think that we'd be tossed to the wolves (a.k.a. government) in this manner is very disappointing, sad, and disgusting.  The Supreme Court did a great disservice to the people of America today - one that is, in my opinion, unparalleled by any other decision they've made.   Not only have they infringed upon our individual rights, but also destroyed the concepts of free enterprise and personal liberty.

The Supreme Court has its own interpretation of what the health law says, but I don't agree with it.  Perhaps another issue with the law, however, is its unintelligible language that is far too open to interpretation, and thoroughly understood by only a select few individuals.  Then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the health care law is so confusing.  It was, after all, conceived and written by a former lawyer.

Regrets

I finally got the inspiration to write another blog post.  I've been asked by a couple of people why I don't post more often.  I think it's because I don't want this blog to be filled with pointless babbling like some others I've read.  I want each of my posts to be meaningful.  I can't be sure they're meaningful to anyone who reads them, but if I'm going to take the time out of my schedule to write something, I want it to at least have meaning for me.  I'm not often hit with such an intense feeling or thought, at least not one so intense that I feel the need to express it extensively in writing.  But I had one of those thoughts today, so here goes.

I was thinking today about summertime approaching, and all the fun activities it brings - hiking, fishing, camping, etc.  There are so many great outdoor activities that families do together, teaching children the wonders of nature and survival, and building the bonds that keep families together.  Yet as I thought about those fun activities, I started to feel sad.  I realized that I didn't do any of those things growing up.  I thought about my childhood and the things I did do, or didn't do, and realized I missed out on a lot.

I had wonderful, loving parents who nurtured my education every chance they could.  While other boys' parents bought them BB guns and fishing rods, mine bought me math books and science games.  It definitely served its purpose - I graduated first in my class and I am carrying a 3.96 GPA in college.  However, looking back, I wonder if perhaps too much of my time was spent reading and studying.  I wonder if I inadvertently did more damage than good to myself by not participating in the basic outdoor activities that most children experience.
Part of me feels a bit resentful toward my parents.  I know that sounds harsh, but I never felt they had any interest in introducing me to the fun of family camping or fishing trips.  (I've been told that I did go on a camping trip when I was very young, but I don't even remember it.)  Then as I think more about it, I think maybe I should've said more to them.  I always wanted to do those things, but I never said anything to them.  I never asked them to take me out hunting or to a sports game, despite how badly I wanted to.  Perhaps the blame is more my own for not being a more outspoken child.  Furthermore, my father's health has never been very good the entire time I've been alive, and by the time I came around, he and Mom didn't really do that kind of stuff anymore.  It's understandable, but I wish I'd been born sooner and had the chance to do all those things while they still could.

I wonder too what effect it may have had on my relationship with my parents if we'd spent that quality time together.  I'm very close with my dad, and was close with my mom while she was alive.  I couldn't have asked for a home more loving and nurturing.  Still, I feel a bit empty knowing that we never had those particular moments together.  I remember being young and hearing my friends tell me about the fun times they had on family outings - sleeping under stars, reeling in that monstrous fish, having a father-son photograph taken while kneeling next to a ten-point buck, sitting by a campfire roasting marshmallows.  I never got to enjoy any of that with my parents, and in the subsequent years, I really haven't done them at all.

Now as an adult, I hear about my friends who do those activities, and I actually feel embarrassed to admit that I've not done them.  They seem like such basic childhood experiences, and I don't know what they're like.  When most people relate their stories of big campfires and nature hikes, I generally just nod and look away.  I can't think of any other person in my circle of friends who hasn't done those things, and it makes me feel very awkward, like some sort of oddball in the group - as if I need yet another reason to feel that way.

The only outdoor activity I ever had the chance to do was fishing.  That wasn't until I was about 14 years old, when my big brother started taking me with him.  Those were some of the most fun and relaxing times I ever had growing up.  They were short-lived, because my brother died when I was 18.  After that, it was over.  The friends with whom we did go fishing didn't seem to want to hang around me after my brother was gone.  Without the necessary equipment (I always used my brother's fishing gear), and without the access to fishing spots and boats (since I neither owned a boat, nor possessed a membership to any club that provided access to those areas like my brother did at Joe-Min lake), I had to give up on that pastime.  At that time, I even made it a point to ask if I could go sometime with those other "friends", but I guess I was just the little nerdy brother whom they let tag along because his big brother forced them to.  I'm not even sure I'd remember how to fish anymore.

What makes it harder is seeing my father's health declining.  It may sound ridiculous, but I've always hoped that one day he'd get better, to the point that he'd be able to do those things, and I'd be able to know what it's like to have that father-son time.  Or even better, have him be healthy while Mom was still alive so all of us could go.  I know now that it will never happen.

I had a good childhood, full of laugher and love.  I had everything I needed, and most of what I wanted.  (That itself may not have been a good thing, since I've been told I'm selfish - but that's another blot post.)  However, I know I missed out on a lot of fun being so studious and not being able to spend time with my family in the great outdoors.  Maybe I'd be a more well-rounded person.  I would've gladly skipped on homework or sacrificed a few A's on math tests if it meant I could've been out with my dad on a boat, or sat with my mother at a campfire.  I suppose I can still do those things, and I'd like to, but I wish I could've, or would've, done them sooner.

31,536,000 Seconds Later...Still Learning

Here we are.  Almost the end of 2011, and time for me to reflect on what the year has meant to me.  In keeping with the post I created last year around this time, I thought I'd write another list of what I learned.  The problem is, I discovered that some things I thought I learned last year proved to be untrue, or at least not always true.  Perhaps I didn't really learn anything.  More likely, I just thought I maybe knew something.

For someone like myself, who prefers dealing with certainties and absolutes, life can be very frustrating.  Maybe that's why I like math so much.  There's an answer, and usually a simple method for deriving it.  I don't know if anything about life is ever really that certain, and it annoys me.  Friends are confusing.  Family is confusing.  Life is confusing.  And no matter how much I'd like to, none of them can be explained through scientific algorithms and mathematical equations.  For each hypothesis, there's some person or event that doesn't fit, an outlier in the data that throws the whole study off.  The only thing I do know with reasonable certainty is that, when it comes to life, I'm clueless.

That being said, I figured it still might be helpful for me to once again write a list of things I think I know.  I'm sure by this time in 2012, some of the items on this list will be disproven.  But I suppose that's life - no definites, no absolutes, no indisputable truths.

1.  In 2010, I learned that cats are amazing pets.   In 2011, I also learned that they are the most evil, spiteful creatures that God ever created - but they're still lovable.
2.  Contradictory to what I thought I knew in 2010, the phrase "I love you" is meaningless.  It's all too often spoken to fulfill a social convention, not because of  true emotion, and....
3.  The ones who say they love you are the ones most likely to hurt you.
4.  I think life would be easier if I was a sociopath.
5.  Once in a while, people just need to vent.  They don't always expect others to solve their problems; they just need to know someone will listen to them.
6.  I have more acquaintances than actual friends.
7.  You can be surrounded by people, and still be very much alone.
8.  You can't always expect validation from others.
9.  In life, you only get one shot at real love.  I missed mine.
10.  When you're depressed, "happy thoughts" aren't enough, and people telling you to think happy thoughts makes you more depressed...and incredibly annoyed.
11.  When a friend asks if you're "ok", it's sometimes easier just to say "yes" than try to explain what you're really feeling.  Sometimes because you don't want to admit it, sometimes because you just don't want to bore them.
12.  I don't think anyone truly knows who I am.
13.  If it isn't broke, then I apparently haven't used it yet.
14.  Holidays don't mean as much to me as they used to.
15.  Discussions of politics and religion can form frienships, and can destroy them just as quickly.
16.  God does love me, even though I'm sure I piss Him off.
17.  Catholicism is more about control than faith.
18.  The wagon gets farther and farther away each time you fall off it.
19.  Countless interactions on social websites will never fill the void of loneliness.
20.  I don't care as much as I used to about what people think of me.  There's maybe only a handful of people whose opinion of me actually matters anymore.  (I'm still not sure if that's a good or bad thing.)
21.  Morality is more important than law, but since morality is subjective, it will never be a clear guide for society.
22.  Convincing yourself you don't want something is easier than accepting that you probably never will have it.

Comparing this list to the one I wrote last year, it appears that the things I discovered in 2011 were more cynical.  I could probably come up with a list of "happy thoughts", but like I said in my list, that would just annoy me.  I'm not interested in writing a list about puppy dogs, rainbows, and candy canes if that's not what I'm feeling.  If I'm anything, I'm honest.  Maybe things will take a different direction next year.  I hope so, because looking back, I'm not particularly impressed with the current one.

Not-So-Happy Holidays

Let's be honest.  For single people, holidays sometimes suck.  I'm not a buzzkill who doesn't appreciate a couple days off work, nor am I against spreading good cheer and peace.  But when you're on your own, special days like Thanksgiving and Christmas just aren't as great.
You see, there's a certain part of the holidays that invokes a feeling of "family".  I'm grateful that I do have family, but not in the traditional sense.  I don't have a loving wife with whom I can wake up on those days and see her smile.  I don't have children that I can watch as they eagerly barrel down the stairs, practically running each other over as they scramble toward the Christmas tree to open their presents from Santa, and subsequently argue about whose is the best.  I don't have a family of my own with whom I can share Thanksgiving dinner, then curl up on the couch watching TV and drinking wine while the kids play on the floor.  For single people, holidays can actually be a bit depressing.

I certainly don't begrudge others for their happiness.  Having a family, from what I've seen and been told, is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world, and I'm glad that most people in my life have experienced it.  But I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me felt a little jealous.  Hearing the fun things that parents are doing with their babies, watching families in toy stores as their little ones grab every possible item from the shelves, and look up with those loving, innocent eyes and sheepishly say 'please?', endless postcards with pictures of smiling husbands, wives, and children adorned in their cheeriest holiday apparel with 'Season's Greetings From the So-and-So Family' printed in bright gold lettering...it's all endearing, but also a bit painful.  It's a beautiful time of year...and also a stern reminder of what is lacking in my life.

I joke repeatedly about never wanting to get married.  I laugh about children being little spawns of Satan.  But those who are close to me know it's a facade.  I don't enjoy being alone.

It definitely hasn't been due to a lack of trying.  I go out periodically - different bars, different clubs, different social events.  I watch the human activity around me and try to find that particular woman who engages my attention.  I smile, I talk, I joke....and I fail miserably.  You see, I'm not exactly the suave, cool cat, lady killer.  I don't try to be.  (I've made the attempt before, and usually end up looking more ridiculous than I do acting like myself.)  It's no big surprise to anyone that I'm a geek - and I don't hide it very well in social encounters.

The range of responses is varied.  Some smile back, some maybe even talk for a few moments, but I can usually tell by the look on their face that they'd much rather be somewhere else - perhaps in a dentist chair getting a root canal.  And then there are women who just laugh.  Not a genuine laugh inspired by something funny that I said.  It's more of a 'how-can-someone-like-you-possibly-think-you-have-a-shot-with-someone-like-me' laugh.  I'm almost ashamed to admit that it's happened, though I'd be even more ashamed if I admitted to you just how many times it's happened.  And then, after a night of rejection and disappoinment, I end up being the single loser who sits at the bar discussing current events with the bartenders, who are even less interested in talking to me but do so out of a job-related obligation and hoping that I'll tip them graciously.  (I usually do tip them.  I appreciate their willingness to take a few moments out of their busy evening to chat, even if it is against their will.)  In the end, I come up empty, with nothing to show for my night's endeavors except a lighter wallet, and occasionally a killer hangover.

And then the holidays approach.  A joyful time to be close to the ones you love.  Yet for all my attempts at making a true human, emotional connection, the only face I see when I wake up is that of my cat Finnegan, and I sometimes think his affection for me is only contingent on the fact that I'm the person who feeds him.  He's a cat.  He'd likely be just as affectionate to anyone else who fills his food bowl.

My holidays aren't completely empty.  We spend time together as a family at my father's house, laughing and sharing in the spirit of the season.  But even then, for those who have a family of their own, I listen to them as they regale us all with stories of waking up that morning and having breakfast together, going to church together, and all the things they plan to do together afterwards.  And I know that, at the end of the evening, I'm going to be alone again.  (Maybe that's why I never want to leave when I'm invited to others' houses...but I digress.)  I'm truly happy for them - but also a bit annoyed at hearing it over and over each year, and having no such tales of my own to share.

Every year when the holidays roll around, I'm reminded that I've failed yet again to find that special someone.  My age chronometer has tacked on one more number, and I have nothing to show for it in regards to finding my own family.  Each time, my hopes of discovering that joy and happiness diminish.  I haven't given up completely, but I think I need to stop trying so hard.  Doing so just disappoints and depresses me even more.

I've been told that everyone has someone who is meant for them.  I don't really believe that.  I believe there are men and women in this world who are not meant to experience that emotion - and I'm starting to think that I'm one of those people.

What Is a Friend?

Life has been a bit complicated lately.  I've been dealing with personal issues - some trivial, some pretty serious.  It's nothing new for anyone; that's just how life is.  I'm not sure you could really call it "life" if it didn't include some struggles (though I wish some of those struggles were a little less intense, or would just go away).  I've had a lot of time to analyze myself, but more than just that, I've had time to analyze the people around me.  I've looked at what my relationship with each of those persons really means.  I've learned that friendship can't be clearly and adequately defined in a dictionary.  There's so much more to it.

I'm a list person.  I make a to-do list almost every day.  I figured, rather than a long-winded essay about what friendship means to me, I'd write a list.  Some may agree or disagree with my list, but it's what life has taught me.  By typing this list, I'm also not suggesting that friends and family are mutually exclusive.  This list applies to both...at least to real friends and real family.

1.  Friends are there when you need them, but they're not psychic.  You have to reach out to them.
2.  Friends can accept that what might seem trivial to them can be a big deal to you, and they're willing to treat is as a big problem...because it matters to you.
3.  When you have a friend, no problem is ever really just YOUR problem.
4.  When you have a friend, no pain is ever really just YOUR pain.
5.  Friends don't dismiss you.
6.  When you're concerned about bothering someone, friends don't just say "you're not bothering me" - they actually mean it.
7.  Friends know when, and when NOT, to make a joke.
8.  Friends may not believe in your choices, but that doesn't mean they don't still believe in you.
9.  Friends will help you when you want it, and they will force help on you when you need it.
10.  Friends know that sometimes the best thing they can do for you is give you a swift kick in the butt.
11.  Friends know when you're not being completely honest, no matter how good you are at hiding the truth from others.
12.  Friends will do favors for you and expect nothing in return - but that makes you want to work that much harder to pay them back.
13.  Friends are without pretense.
14.  Friends understand you, and in the rare instances that they don't, they'll make the effort to try.
15.  Friends know the importance of actions over words - friends don't always say "I love you" or "I care", but they make it apparent in what they do.
16.  Friends want you to be happy, even if it might somehow conflict with what they want.
17.  If someone is going to be your friend, you have to let them be your friend.
18.  Friends can hurt you, but if the friendship means anything to either of you, you will find some way to work things out.
19.  Friends may not always like some of your other friends, and you may not always like some of their friends.  What matters is that YOU are still friends.
20.  Friends will listen to you, even when it's something they don't want to hear.
21.  Friends aren't afraid to tell you something YOU don't want to hear. (goes with #20)
22.  Friends don't tolerate your eccentricities; they love you for them.

And perhaps even more importantly,

23.  Friendship can't be a one-way relationship.  For all that you receive, you have to be willing to give.

And with all that being said, I think I'll have a drink - and raise a small toast to all of those who are my friends.

Dear God

Dear God,

It's been a long time since I've had a sincere conversation with You.  I'm not sure where to begin.  So much time has passed since we last spoke.  While I'm sure You're quite aware of all that's been happening, I haven't taken much of that time to speak to You.  I'm not even sure what to consider this - A prayer? A conversation? An affirmation? I'm not even sure if writing this will have any impact on You, considering the gravity of all Your other concerns, which far outweigh any of my thoughts or problems.  All I know is that it's time we spoke again, and time for me to clear the air.

I've been angry at You.  I've been angry at You for a very long time.  My brother's death, my mother's death, my father's and grandmother's various illnesses, the bad luck that seems run rampant in my personal life off and on, watching the ones I care about suffer, and knowing that You have the power to make things right, but not actually doing it  - they all have made me question You...made me doubt Your true intentions, not only for myself and my friends and family, but for humanity as a whole.  I've wanted so badly for You to change something, to remind me again of why I believed in You so strongly as a child.

I've felt betrayed and abandoned by You.  I cried out to you many nights alone, but heard nothing in return.  I felt no reassurance that You were there listening.  I asked, albeit arrogantly, for some proof that You were still with me, but felt no peace of mind.

I've been disappointed and hurt by Your unwillingness to reach out to me, despite the times I did find the courage within myself to ask for Your help.  Though I never stopped believing You existed, I didn't trust You.  I didn't believe that You would really help me if I needed it.  Too many moments of pain and sadness blinded me to You.  I didn't feel that there was anything You did that made a difference in my life.  The only satisfaction I could find in life would have to come from me.

I blamed You.  There are things in everyone's life that are out of their control.  Things that just can't be changed no matter how hard they try.  For all those things, I blamed You.  And I didn't want to accept the graces You did give to me, because I knew in my heart that they wouldn't last.  That something would take them away, or there would be strings attached.  I blamed myself for most things too, and through that blame and self-doubt, I found even more reason to be angry with you.  For putting things in my life You knew I couldn't control, and that You knew would hurt me and make me hate myself even more.

I convinced myself that, though you may have an influence in other people's lives, You weren't a part of mine.  I convinced myself that I would pray to You to help others, but knew better than to ask You to help me.  I convinced myself that I was better off just doing it on my own...and that I was better off without You.

For a long time, that mentality worked...until recently.

I can't blame you.  I can't be angry at you anymore, even though it's a basic human emotion, and I've been told I have the right to be angry.  I've been angry and hurt for too long.  I've compartmentalized my emotions and feelings, and have started to recognize them for what they are - a distraction from the truth.

I've had even more time, in the darkest moments of my mental and emotional anguish and depression, when I cut myself off from the outside world, to realize that...it was never You.  It was me.  I was the one who doubted You.  I was the one who abandoned You.  I was the one who stopped listening to You.  I was the one who disappointed You.  I was the one who hurt You.  All the times I thought You didn't care, it was really me who stopped caring - about myself.

You never did leave my side.  You were always there - in a friend's kind words or gestures, in a family member's warm embrace.  You were never gone.  I just didn't want to see it.  Or maybe I just couldn't see it.

I realized that there are people who care about me, people who do love me, even if I couldn't seem to love myself.  And I realized, all that time, it was You.  You made these friends who they are, and You brought them to me (or brought me to them) knowing that I would need them.  And they carried out Your will.  They helped me cope.  They helped me understand.  Ultimately, they helped me survive.  Not just with my recent problems, but all this time.  You put these few wonderful people in my life, because You loved me.  I asked for Your help so many times, and You provided - through them.  Through the greatest and simplest of gestures or deeds from others, in the greatest and smallest of words, You heard my cries, and you answered.

I've also realized another truth - I miss You.  In youth, knowing and feeling Your presence in my life made me stronger.  It made me more at peace, even when things were impossible.  Since I've been away from Your grace, I've been searching endlessly for something that would fill the void.  I've tried in vain to find something else to make me whole again.  I'm surrounded by the love of friends and family, and they've made my life beautiful...but I can't really feel complete, because You're not there.  I've turned my back on You - the One who was there from the moment of my birth.  The pain in my soul at times is unbearable, and the only thing I can find that's causing it is Your absence.  Not by Your choice, but my own.

I need You in my life again.  I need to feel the happiness, security, and joy that I found in Your presence.  I need to feel complete.  I can't make it through this life alone, and I am filled with joy that You gave me the friends I need to make it through.  But I need You too.  I can no longer pretend that I'm better off without You.  I know that's not true anymore - it never was true.

I guess my next step should be apologizing.  You've given me good things, and I've attributed them all to blind luck or my own perseverance.  But it was You helping me, and I never thanked you - at least not as much as I should have.  I let my anger and disappointment with life's occasional pitfalls obscure my vision of You.  You don't always stop bad things from happening, but You do provide the strength that is needed to endure.  For all my blame, for all my anger and resentment, for all the doubt, and for all the hatred...I am sorry.  Sorry that I ever turned away from You, and sorry that it has been so long.

I'm making the effort to come back to You.  I know You've always wanted to be a part of my life again, and I haven't let You - but I need to.  I can't guarantee that the transition will be instantaneous.  I still have many thoughts and emotions that I must sort through.  But I know that none of those are Your fault.  If our friendship is going to be whole again, I have to take the first step.  I have to let You back in.  I have to believe that You're still with me, and that Your methods aren't always crystal clear.  I have to look a bit harder for them.  I want Your mercy and grace in my life again.

I've missed You so, and I can only hope that You can forgive my doubt, and hope that there's still room for me by Your side.  I want to...no, I need to be in Your glory again.  I'm coming back to You, my Savior, my Rock...if You'll have me.

See you Sunday,

Josh