A Toss of the Coin

Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 40. I’ve spent 40 years of being on this spinning orb, hurtling through space at a dizzying speed, making a difference in nothing, but affecting everything that I touch. Looking back, 40 seemed a long way off. There was so much to be done with life. So much not done.

I can remember my fifth birthday. Not vividly, but I do remember where I was, and the card I got. It was 1973; I was at my grandma’s house in Cedar Grove, TN. I do believe my brother and sister were there, but not sure if my dad was there or not. The card was a cut-out clown that you put together and played with. Even then I was concerned about “damaging” something that someone had given me. I mean, the clown was supposed to come out, but in doing do, the card would be ruined. I am that way. I have stacks of Mad magazines from my teen years. They had the pictures on the last page that you were supposed to bend to make a totally new picture. The pages are still unbent. I would cut out a piece of paper to cover the folded part to see the new picture just to keep the page unbent. I have CarToons magazines with ages-old iron-ons in them. I wanted to keep them intact. Why?

I don’t remember ever having a goal for my life. Most kids wanted to be a policeman, fireman, scientist, and hell…even the president. I just wanted to live a life that I felt was right. In elementary school, I didn’t have a clue. In high school, when you were supposed to at least have an idea…I didn’t. When I got to college, it was almost a toss of the coin to decide what major I would choose. I just picked one that seemed right at the time; Business Management. That was something that I now realize was as far away from my persona as Chattanooga is to Memphis…going east, that is. Midways into my college education, I changed to Marketing, which was closer, but still not right. The artistic parts of it were, like drawing up the ads for Advertising class and coming up with a sales presentation for a class project (oh, yeah…my sales pitch for a new perfume called Dümí was a great hit…”Don’t get me diamonds, just Dümí”…even my professor got a kick out of that!). But I was still clueless. I think that the reason for that was that I just didn’t care. Only a few years into college, the partying started. The desire to have a good time overrode the need to study and get good grades. I did get good grades, but not in my major. The good grades were in English, Science, Creative Writing, and all the other classes that had nothing to do with my degree. I would have done excellent with an Undecided Major!

Then I met the woman I would spend the next 15 years with. I felt that making money with a steady job was good enough at that point. We both did some partying, but she had her degree and a good job. With money coming in from both ends, life was good. Eventually, two kids, complacency and blindness set in. I’ve said so much about this subject, that I am going to skip it this time. I don’t even want to think about it.

There are times when I am completely alone. The kids are with their mama. Friends are at their own homes (more and more of that happening here lately…). The mind starts to wander in those moments, the times when the crickets are chirping, the bats are flitting about while searching for unseen insects, and the fireflies blink their Morse code messages to each other. When my mind starts to wander, that’s when I feel the most vulnerable, yet it is also the time when I feel most creative. No one around to distract me from thinking…and sometimes thinking is not such a great idea when the thoughts are ones that make me unhappy. But when those thoughts arise, I do my best to beat them back down to whence they came, back to the dark depths of my mind that even I haven’t seen yet.

I was with friends yesterday. I showed up late to my own birthday party, but it was because of no fault of my own, really. No putzing involved. The person who was to help me move some things to my new house didn’t arrive until a few hours after he said he would, which then put us back that much more in the order of getting ready. Then, I promised a friend that I would pick her up for the party. That took a trip to Dalton and then to East Ridge…all from originating in Ooltewah. So, I was late because of the kindness of one friend, and from me being kind to another. Anyway, I was hanging around with a fine group of folks last night. Even some from Sand Mountain came down from their side, up Lookout Mountain, then down the other side into Chattanooga. I was really surprised to see them there. But they were and that is what mattered. Friends rallying around me, sharing my happiness of living yet another year, and my depression for the same reason…another year behind me. I did get a neat gift. It was a canoe paddle that everyone had signed. That thing is going to hang from the rafters on the porch of my new house. It is where it belongs. It will be a symbol of those who care for me as I take off into this new journey, a new direction in my life, one that hopefully will be just as full of happiness that the former journey was. But really, that journey isn’t over, it just changed direction.

Of course there were those who weren’t there that should have been. I do miss them. One that I expected to hear from…and didn’t. I don’t know if it hurt me that I should have heard from her and didn’t, or if it was just something that I expected and didn’t receive that hurt me. It is called a divorce, not death. I’m still here. She is still here. It probably shouldn’t bother me because we are not together. But still, it is hard to let go the notion that it wasn’t forgetfulness; it wasn’t forgotten for 15 years. If it was because of divorce and we just can’t wish each other well because of that…well…I don’t think I can understand that. If there was hatred involved, that would be different, but I didn’t think there was hatred involved. I have no clue. It is over, it is done. The day is gone into the past, and I guess that’s where things should stay.

Lordy, lordy, look who’s 40. Over the hill. Senility and eventual bedrest in a mandated minimum security lockdown called a retirement facility. Just a fancy name for the old folk’s home. That is ahead of me, it is not right now. I’ll be there before it’s all over though. But before I get there, start forgetting who I and loved ones are, I am going to make the best of what life has thrown upon my plate. I have some options and opportunities coming open that I am excited about; foot in the door opportunities; solid, good employment opportunities; deep close friendship opportunities. All I have to do is be prepared to reach out and grab them. No toss of the coin this time…

I think I’ll put the coin back in my pocket.