Life in Rebirth

Is it Spring already and I missed its arrival? I should have known it had arrived…the songbirds have been tuning up their vocal chords for a few days, surely getting ready for some great choral movement due to start any day now. I have had an uneasy feeling lately; a feeling like someone has been watching me. The birds have been coming to the empty bird feeders for something to eat. When they found nothing, I felt barbs coming at me from their beady little eyes. They would fly away, surely plotting some evil plan to do me in. I could see them in my mind, sitting around some table, smoke hovering just about beak level, drab females bringing bowls of worms to proud, colorful males who were drafting a list of things to do to the humans who put out those feeders, but never put seed in them. Just to make amends for not being ready, I went ahead and bought some bird seed today; making sure that there was a healthy portion of black sunflower seeds in the mix. I hope they take me off of their list.

The bulbs planted in my front yard have sprouted and some have even bloomed. Pretty yellow daffodils are scattered about under the giant oaks. Creeping ivies have started their slow migration in a green sprawl. The circular rows of “monkey grass” have started pushing up tender shoots centered in the middle of each bunch. I actually have patches of green grass starting to spread. Purple clover festoons the yard, bees are buzzing, and I saw a butterfly today. Things are starting anew.

I am ready for this newness of spring. The shorts and sandals that have spent all winter in the darker recesses of my closet have come out. I actually wore some today. My feet have become so accustomed to the closed toed Birkenstocks of winter that they almost protested the donning of the double strapped Birkenstocks of the warmer months. They felt uncomfortable for the first few minutes, protested a bit, and then settled down into the well-worn foot pads that they had created and then whispered a sigh of relief.

I had already mowed the yard once this year. Not that there was much grass to mow. No, there were still leaves in the front yard. Leaves lined up against the fence row…leaves that were dead, brown, crispy reminders of the dying that occurs each and every fall and winter. There are some areas of the yard that need mowing now. The side yard is full of clover. Some of my favorite pictures of my kids from years ago are ones of them sitting in ankle-high clover, Big T in her yellow sundress, Little T in his denim overalls, picking at the clover and looking like they would never grow up. My favorite one is the wallpaper for my computer screen right now. I love it.

Today, after going on an Easter egg hunt (the coloring of the real eggs happened later this afternoon) and a short trip to Wal Mart, I had them re-create that scene from years ago. Of course, they are much bigger, but the sentiment is still there. There they were, two siblings, who at any other time are constantly at each other’s throats, sitting in the clover at the request of their sentimental father, bringing back the memories of children who should not grow up.

I think I am ready for spring. Things are starting anew, not only in nature, but in my life. The losses are being replaced by gains; the hurts are being replaced by happiness. At least I hope those things happen. I’m not going to just sit back and watch the newness arrive…I am going to jump in and create new things myself, even if it kills me. Growth comes from death, at least in nature it does.

All I have to do now is make sure to put some dried corn cobs in the squirrel feeders before acorns and all manner of things start being stuffed down the downspouts of my gutters...

But It’s Too Late

I have been working on putting into words something that has been running through my mind lately. I’ve written most of it down, but it just doesn’t sound right. If it was handed to me to edit, I would tell the writer that it looked forced, hollow, and not up to the standards that the writer has shown in the past. It doesn’t say everything I want to say in a way that I want to say it. I think it is sub-par work at best, so I am not going to post it until it is right. I hope that the relevance it holds is still in effect when I do post it. I hope it’s not too late.

Speaking of late, I haven’t written an article for my VW club’s newsletter in a long time. I wrote a few last year that were never printed. They still sit in limbo on my hard drive, awaiting the chance to be presented as the written word, at least in a tangible, hands-on type of format. The first one deals with my being in my element. I talk about working on a ’94 Golf that I used to have and how a simple task of changing the oil turned into a weekend affair. If it had been one of my buses, it would have been done in a few hours. Sure, I could finish the job in less time than that, but I tend to take my time, make sure that other jobs don’t need to be done inspect other parts of the underside of the Bus while I’m down there and while the oil is draining. What took so long with the Golf? Finding other problems along the way, not thinking before jumping in, etc.

The second article is a play on the condition of a road in comparison with the condition of life and love. I compare a smooth road to things going smoothly in your life and in matters of love. A bumpy road full of potholes and unpaved surfaces is comparable to problems that arise in your life. Take a divorce, for example, (ahem) that tests both the stability of your life and the dealings of your love life at the same time. That road is surely unpaved and full of unseen dangers. It is bumpy and the passengers are uncomfortable, wishing for a smooth highway. I then only promise those riding along that I will strive to find the paved road, the one that meanders through the countryside, with twists and turns that make the drive all the more pleasurable. Not too winding, though...

Just for the heck of it, I’m going to post it here. Why not? I surely can’t explain everything I had to say in just one paragraph…

Love, Life and Good Roads

Boy, do I love a good road. The sound of the smooth pavement under your wheels is like a song with a familiar melody and ever-changing lyrics. Rolling along, you hum the tune instead of singing because you never know what the next word will be. And sometimes, when going down the road, the tune will change. Just when you think that the road will always be smooth, you hit a bump or a rock. You suddenly realize that the road isn’t as smooth as you always thought it was. Maybe time has made the road brittle, causing several unseen pitfalls that jostle you out of your complacency and make you realize that the road is ever changing. Sometimes you have to turn off of the nice paved road and onto a gravel or dirt road. The ride is a lot less smooth, but you still push onward, knowing that the destination is just ahead.

Life is like a road. The smoother the road, the better the ride is. When there are no obstacles in your path, you might forget that there are any other roads than a good paved one. When the road changes to a less-smooth one, sometimes you are surprised by the sudden change. It’s not that the new road is not worth traveling, it’s just that an adjustment of mentality is in order. You hold the wheel a little tighter; take care to watch where you are going, and make necessary changes in your driving habits. Where you once took the road for granted, thinking that it would always be smooth, you now anticipate the bumps and turns, taking care to evaluate each one to make the ride smoother. Knowing that the smooth highway has now changed to a gravel side road, you learn to appreciate the former road, and yearn to be back on it, or somehow make the new road a little easier to drive.

Love is also like a road. When you are going along, laughing, loving and enjoying the ride, the song from the wheels is a song of romance. You know the tune and sometimes, even the words, because the road is familiar to you. You have been on that road for years and years, with no changes, no toll booths, and no potholes to make you think that the road might change. When it does change, the shock is sometimes more than you can handle. Here you have been, with your driving partner riding shotgun, maybe some smaller riders in the back seat, and suddenly the road changes. No bumps or alteration in the feel of the road to warn you, no yield or stop signs…the road just switches to an unpaved, maybe even unmarked path. You might stop and look for a map to show you where the new road will take you. Sometimes you find your way, sometimes you don’t. When you don’t, you need someone to show you the best way to go. You might need a team of workers to start mapping and paving the new road to make it a bit more drivable. And when you discover where you are going, how the road is going to feel, and where it will take you, everything comes back into perspective.

Smooth roads are better to drive on than rough roads. Rough roads cause more wear and tear on your vehicle and make the drive a bit less desirable. But you must drive on. You have somewhere to be and no change of road should keep you from getting to your destination. You tell your driving partners that if they stick with you, you will make the ride as comfortable as possible. You remind them of the final destination and how the ride there would be much more fun and the end more pleasing if you take the unpaved roads along with the paved ones. All will get you to where you are going, even if the ride is a little bit rough at times. You remind them of the roads that you have been on, tell them that you will work on making the new road a bit smoother and maybe even get back to the nice paved road. For now, all you can do is hold on a little tighter, avoid the bigger potholes, and make sure that all riders are safe in their seats.

Love, life, and good roads…one is the destination, one is what determines the condition of the road, and the other is how you get there. It’s up to each driver and passenger to decide which is which. For me, life is the destination, love is the condition of the road, and a good road is my desired path. The road may turn rough at times, but I am determined to avoid the bigger obstacles and road hazards. I will strive to make my partner and passengers as comfortable as possible during the transition of the road. I promise to find a way to make the road smoother, even find a way to get back to the rolling highway where the tune from the wheels is a familiar song with the newly learned words rolling off my lips. Because this time, I will have learned the words and will sing it with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my being. It will be a song of the love of a good road.

Till later,
GoBusGo!

I think that I didn’t find the paved road in time. I found it too late.

Too late…how long had it been too late? When did the “last call” to save my marriage come? I can’t bring up a significant instance where I knew it was too late. All I know is that the moment I came to realize that there was a problem, it was too late. Not in my eyes, though. I don’t ever think it is too late to fix a problem. Not when you really want to work at it, to fix whatever is broken, to make right what has been wronged. No, it was too late in my wife’s eyes. She says she told me in her own way, over and over (again, in her own way) that she wasn’t happy and things needed to change. I just didn’t see it. Blind as a bat, I am.

Again with the music. I find songs that invoke memories composed of the times of my life...the good and the bad ones...well, I find them hard to listen to. But, this next song, even though it hurts to hear, I keep on listening to it and others, trying to put myself in the great scenario that plays in my mind when I listen…and I mean really listen…to the songs that make up my life.

Under some dirty words on a dirty wall
Eating takeout by myself
I played the shows
Got back in the van and put the Walkman on
And you were playing

In some other dive a thousand miles away
I played a thousand times before
And like pathetic stars, the truck stops and the rock club walls
I always knew
You saw them too
But you never will again

It's too late
Don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

Elliott, man, you played a fine guitar
And some dirty basketball
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
it's been too late
for a long time

Oh no
Things were looking up
Least that's what I heard
Oh no
Someone came and washed away your hard-earned
Peace of mind

When desperate static beats the silence up
A quiet truth to calm you down
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

It's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

-Ben Folds

That song brings wetness to my eyes each and every time I hear it. It really isn’t significant to me in a sense that pertains to love…heck, I don’t even know what he is talking about. It is just the “too late” words that make me...let's see...how can I say "cry" in a manly fashion?. This next one is one that I haven’t heard in a long time. It may have been while lying on the dentist’s chair while the hygienist had her hand in my mouth and asking questions at the same time…

Stayed in bed all morning just to pass the time
There's something wrong here, there can be no denying
One of us is changing, or maybe we've stopped trying

And it's too late, baby, now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it

It used to be so easy living here with you
You were light and breezy and I knew just what to do
Now you look so unhappy, and I feel like a fool

And it's too late, baby, now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it

There'll be good times again for me and you
But we just can't stay together, don't you feel it too
Still I'm glad for what we had, and how I once loved you

But it's too late, baby, it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it
-Carole King

I know it is too late to do anything about my marriage. By the time this is read by anyone, it will be over anyway. But it is not too late to remain civil and friendly in this whole stinkin’ mess. I have a never-ending and undying love for my children. They are the cohesive material that will keep me together for the rest of my life and they are the reason to keep it cool with their mother. It’s not too late to tell them “I love you” every chance that I get. It’s not too late to make the most of my life, even though I am nearly forty freakin’ years old (really?). It’s not too late to make and keep new friends. It’s not too late to start over...

It’s not too late to love again.

Tetelestai

"It is finished"

The Great and Terrible D

Just under two days, folks. In less time than I realize, I will no longer be Mr. Barefoot. No, that’s not right. I will always be Mr. Barefoot. I just won’t be the Mr. Barefoot to a Mrs. Barefoot. Not a husband, not an income contributor, not anything but who I am. Single. I haven’t been single for over 13 years. It’s going to be weird. I don’t know what is waiting for me out there in this great big world. It is scary. Be brave, old man…

Divorce. The Great and Terrible D.

Not a welcome thing, I can tell you that much. I don’t want it; I never did. But, here it is nonetheless. I know I will survive. It’s not like it’s a death sentence. Life will go on. But, it is a death sentence in other ways. The marriage is put in a plain pine wood box and placed six feet under. All the things that remind me of the times as a married man will be placed in a plastic tote and buried deep in storage. Wedding album and pictures, wedding ring, pictures of us together, letters and cards…all bring back memories. At least for some period of time, I want them gone…out of sight, out of mind. I don’t want them around me to be a constant reminder of what has been lost. The love for my wife (oops, I mean ex-wife) will forever be hanging around like a benign ghost…dead, but residing in my mind, and still welcomed. I don’t think I want to chase that ghost away.

Destruction. The Great and Terrible D.

My family, at least as a whole unit, living under the same roof, is destroyed. There are days together with my kids, and days apart. What hurts the most is me knowing the reason that they have to leave my house in the first place (refer to original Great and Terrible D). When you are used to having your loved ones with you every day for years and years, seeing them go away forever, or even if only for a few days, …well, it hits you hard. If you care about them, it does.

Destiny. The Great and Terrible D.

I’m not a big believer in destiny; that what happens to you is what is supposed to happen to you, your future is destined to be what it will be. I know that you have to make your life what you want it to be. I had what I wanted. I now have to decide what it is that I want and make it happen. I have to get off my lazy, Cancer ass (if I wait long enough, something good will happen!) and do something about it.

Determination. The Great and Terrible D.

I am determined to never make the same mistakes again. Never again will I take for granted that things are going just fine. My eyes have to be open and scanning for any signs of unhappiness and my ears must listen to what is being said for the sake of future relationships. My brain must be able to decipher what my eyes and ears take in and make the right decisions based upon that information. I will notice when my partner is not happy and do something about it sooner than later. I am determined to keep in constant communication, something that I didn’t do soon enough in my marriage.

Dreams. The Great and Terrible D.

All the old ones have been dreamed. They have been used up. One thing is for sure; dreams are not life. They are what they are, just dreams. They fade away into mist when you arise from slumber. But dreams make their way into everyday life in the form of new ideas, new directions, and new feelings. New dreams await this dreamer.

Difference. The Great and Terrible D.

I’m going to make a difference. A difference in my heart, in my life, in my outlook on life. I can’t go around with this pall cloud of gloom hanging over my head forever. It’s just not who I am. I hate this person. Sunny one day, cloudy and gloomy the next…sort of like the weather around these parts. Well, I’m looking for a new weather forecaster…one who says it’s going to be sunny and it actually is sunny. There is going to be a change. It’s going to get better.

Reach out, hands in the air,
Don't care just what they're saying
Hold out, just keep on hoping against hope
That it's gonna get better
Don't worry, there's no hurry for you, for me,
Everything's gonna come around
Shout out, someone will listen to you, to me,
Someone's gonna see

He calls me over and, calls me brother and I know
always fighting and moonlighting and, well it never ends
in the city, if you're all alone
there's a sister and she's standing next to her man
in the darkness you feel the sharpness of steel
and it's always there, in the city, and you're all alone

So reach out, hands in the air,
Don't care just what they're saying
Hold out, just keep on hoping against hope
That it's gonna get better
Don't worry, there's not hurry for you, for me,
Everything's gonna come around
Shout out, someone will listen to you, to me,
Someone's gonna see...

If it's gonna get better, it starts with a feeling
If it's gonna get better, it's gonna take time
If it's gonna get better, we gotta start now
cause I know, everybody can feel it
and I know, everybody will see it
cause it shows, and that shows I'm not dreaming
cause you know, and I know, it's time for a change

-Genesis, Things Are Going to Get Better

Aren't they?

Innocent Diversions

Boring narrative of my day:

Today was just absolutely beautiful. After several days of rain, cold, flurrying snow, and me being physically sick with some sort of bug, the warmth and sunshine that was the order of the day made the wait for it all worthwhile. It makes me yearn for the warmer days that are ahead and the camping and the swimming and the fun that comes with it all.

I started the day out early, sort of against my will. My son (Little T) woke up before sunrise. 5:45 a.m. to be exact. What possessed him to wake up that early is beyond me. He asked me, “Daddy, where is the sun?” I told him it was sleeping, just like we should be. He then asked if Movie Gallery was open. You see, our local franchise is closing its doors and is selling off all movies and games, and even the shelves that hold said media. I have bought my kids several DVDs and games during this reduction sale, and he was eager to get some more. He specifically wanted Spiderman 2. It was all he could talk about all morning. “Daddy, is Movie Gallery open now? How long until Movie Gallery opens?” I don’t think he grasped what I was trying to tell him when I said that they wouldn’t be open for several hours. In his mind, they should be open whenever he wanted them to be.

We never made it to Movie Gallery, but we did make it to an even better place. Back up to before. Before breakfast. Before getting in Oscar and driving down the road. Dawnia (who, for the sake of brevity, shall be called “D” here through the end of this writing) called me just to see what was going on. I told her I was going to have coffee, make some pancakes for the kids, load up Oscar with recyclables (the same ones that pile up in my garage for weeks at a time) to take to the recycling center, eat lunch, go to the park, and culminate the day at the movies to see The Spiderwick Chronicles. This better place I speak of is the one place that I can look for what I want and see what I want at the same time. This place is a book/CD/DVD store. I had planned on being there for D’s lunch break at high noon, but me, as I am, forever being the fashionably late one, ended up arriving around 12:20. I am NOT always late for everything, but to me, living on Southern Time means having a leeway…an “ish” time, if you will. I can be on time, especially for things that really matter, like an appearance at court, doctor’s appointments (where I usually have to wait even if I’m early), or any other thing where being late will make you suffer consequences. Anyway, we (the kids and I) get there and start looking for, you guessed it, Spiderman 2. D painstakingly looks wherever employees look for “hidden” copies of movies and comes back with an extended, director’s cut, double disc, extra-extra special copy of the movie. Little T is happy. Well, at least he is until he finds a VHS copy that has a different cover than what is on the DVD. He then has to have the DVD with the same cover that he has just found on VHS. So, we look again through the new releases and, lo and behold, there is a copy on DVD that has the same cover as the VHS…and all is good. Not to mention that it is about $5 cheaper as well.

Before we leave there, a mention is made about maybe, just maybe joining us for the movie later on. I leave there with that hope in my mind. We go to the recycling center, where my daughter (Big T) turns into a helping hand. She’s all about this recycling stuff. I hope she stays excited about it. We unload and separate and dump the stuff and head out. We realize we are hungry, so we go to Ooltewah for lunch at Burger King, the place where a kid can be a kid. It is discovered too late that some kid had puked in the playground. Little T ends up getting some on his shirt... Ewww…his shirt with a spider on it…did I mention he loves Spiderman? So off comes the shirt and into a bag it goes. We end up leaving to see about getting a new shirt before going to the park. Go home, get new shirt, go to park. What’s at the park that has the attention of boys and girls alike? Puppies. Someone is giving away puppies. Cute puppies. I got all the “Daddy can we?” and “Please?” trying to persuade me to take home a “free-for-now” future slobbering, money-eating canine. No was the answer.

Off to the movies! I thought that The Spiderwick Chronicles would be ok to see with my kids. For the most part it was, but there were some loud scenes of snarling goblins, transforming ogres, and snapping trolls that would have probably put bad dreams in my head if I were a little kid. But it was also filled with beautiful fairies and sprites that made you go “Awww…how cute!” Going by what someone else told me about taking their small child to see it, I figured it would be ok with me there. Little T ended up in my lap for part of the movie. “Awww…how cute!”

Afterwards, we went to Captain D’s for some dessert, but ended up eating fish and shrimp along with the cheesecake bites, brownie bites, and creamy cheesecakes. I have to admit that it was my first time (that I can remember) ever eating there. I was clueless of what to get off of a limited menu. Yes, I was that confused. I finally chose the fish and fries dinner. Will I eat there again? Maybe. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined a fast-food seafood place could be. But then again, maybe not.

It was a good day. I got to be with my kids. I got to see D and do things with her. I started writing this when I got home and fell asleep. Anytime you fall asleep while trying to do something you love, you have to be tired. I suppose I was. I needed to catch up on some sleep anyway. That’s something I haven’t been getting enough of lately. Who am I kidding? Sleep? I’ll get enough of that when I’m taking a dirt nap.

Til later,
GoBusGo!