Reason, Season, & Lifetime Friends - Not a Repeat, a Three-Peat

I originally wrote this post on February 12, 2008. I published again, almost exactly 12 months later, on February 1, 2009.

Tonight, I'm publishing it for the third time because it still resonates so deeply with me and remains one of my absolute all time favorite blog posts. Five and a half years after its original publication on Little Merry Sunshine, I find myself going through a Season change. Yes, we are literally transforming from Summer to Fall, but some of my relationships are also transforming. Some are ending and others are just beginning. I see it quite clearly; perhaps more clearly than I've seen it ever before in my life.

So it's through the dual lenses of grieving the relationships ending and hopefulness for the ones just beginning, that I share with you my most fundamental beliefs on relationships of all kinds.

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I have always believed there are three types of friends: Reason, Season, and Lifetime. None of them is bad. In fact, they are all equally important.

Reason Friends come into my life for a specific reason - to help me grow, to help me learn a lesson, etc. Once the reason is over, the friendship comes to its natural end. Sometimes work friends fall into this category. We may become very close to Reason Friends and share many intimate details from our lives, but they are still Reason Friends. I usually mourn their departure, but sometimes it's so gradual neither of us notices until it's too late. I also usually hope that our paths cross again.

Season Friends are in my life for a period of time. Some of my friends from college fall into this category. They were there for those 4 years, but after that Season in our lives was over, we went our separate ways. I always mourn when these friendships end because it means a significant time in my life is over, but it is also a time of exciting opportunity. Like Reason Friends, I hope my life path will cross again with my Season Friends.

Lifetime Friends, however, are my touchstones, my lifeblood. Without them, my life is empty. They are there through the thick and thin, exuberance, and sorrow. No matter what happens in our lives, our friendship remains. Sometimes we aren’t as close as others, but we always come back together. The thing about Lifetime Friends is that we can be apart for a decade or more, but when we finally come back together, it's like time has stood still and we pick up right where we left off. Being a Lifetime Friend has nothing to do with when the friendship began. It could be a 40 year old friendship or a 4 week old friendship.

Please don't misunderstand me. I don't treat any of my friends differently. Most of the time, I don't even consciously know which category they fall into.

Because February is the season of Love (and not just the romantic kind), it reminds me to tell my friends how much I love them. I know I don't say it often enough. But I do really and truly love each of my friends. So this Valentine's Day, I'm sending big hugs and kisses your way.

RIP Ron Miller

If you're a Forester, the name Ron Miller probably instantaneously sends you back to your days at Lake Forest College. To at least a couple of generations of Foresters, Ron was Lake Forest College. As the Dean of Students, Ron was at the same time our champion and also someone to be a little bit feared. As a professor of religion, Ron was tolerant of everyone and made religion relevant in ways most of us probably had never experienced before.

Ron died today. I don't know the details other than what's currently on Facebook. That he was in New York City and had had a late night/early morning conversation with his son, Jim about how he wasn't feeling well. A few hours later, Jim got a call from the NYPD that his dad was dead.

When I heard he news at work today, I'll admit I cried a few tears.

College was not an easy time for me and at a number of points, I seriously considered leaving LFC for (what I perceived to be) the greener pastures of two well-known universities, where in hindsight, I would not have flourished. Over a number of conversations in his office, Ron convinced me to stay and gave me a great deal of sage advice, some of which I followed and some of which I was too headstrong to follow. All of which, 20 years later, I wish I'd taken.

When my mom tried to kill herself in June 1992, Ron called me early on a Saturday morning at my mom's house to tell me that whatever I needed would be taken care of. It was two days before my summer school final exam and he told me he'd already spoken to my professor and I could take the final when I returned to school, but that should be on my own timetable. I took my final exam in a stress-free environment about 10 days later and was never made to feel bad about the fact that my professor had to give up some of his summer vacation to accommodate me. When I finally returned to campus, there were notes in my mailbox from multiple professors and senior staff members offering me whatever support I needed (even though I had not reached out to anyone) and I learned I'd been given a single dorm room for the summer and would not be having a roommate move in. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not. I've always assumed not because that's the kind of place LFC is and that's who Ron was.

There was a phrase for those students that Ron took under his wing. They were simply known as "Ron's Kids" and for years I looked a bit enviously on those special chosen classmates, until I recently realized that I was one of them too, even if I didn't share all the same qualities they did.

For many years, Ron and my cousin Alan (also a Forester) were close friends, and Al and Ron and I shared many social dinners after I moved back to Chicago. We shared dinners in Glenview and Highland Park and even watched movies at Ron's apartment. No matter how long it had been since I'd spent time with Ron, it was like time had stood still and conversation flowed easily.

Without hesitation, my favorite Ron moment took place in December 2006. The morning of the First Annual Marshall Field's Memorial Dinner & Christmas Party, my cousin Alan called to ask if he could bring Ron. The fact that I hate to turn anyone away from a dinner party combined with a few last minute cancellations meant we had room, so I said of course. The more the merrier. As it turned out, dinner was almost entirely comprised of Foresters. Tim, Tony, Ron, Alan, Christopher, my brother Dave (a Forester by blood only) and me. Always the religion professor, Ron gave the blessing that night and from there, conversation went straight downhill. I can't tell you everything we discussed (this is a family blog afterall), but I can tell you the conversation spanned from world events to celebrity gossip (and everything in between) and I can't remember a time I've laughed so hard for so many hours in a row.

In the midst of a conversation on pop culture, Ron jumps in with "Who's this Ropa woman I hear so much about? She's all over the television. You know R-O-P-A." Conversation stopped and we all looked at each other confused, as if to say "who the hell is Ropa?" And Ron asks us again. "Who is Ropa? She's got that talk show?" "Oh, you mean OPRAH!" Tim says confidently (since he and Tony live across the street from Harpo Studios). "Yes! Yes! That's her! Ropa!" Ron says as we all about fall under our chairs laughing, with him, not at him.

I have no idea where the conversation went from there, but I do know that we were all glued to our chairs at the dinner table until the wee hours of the morning, laughing so hard our sides hurt. The conversation was extraordinary, but the friends around the table were better. As always, Ron challenged us to be our best selves and we all left just a bit better than when we'd arrived.

Whether we were 18 or 38, Ron let us be ourselves. Heck, he expected us to be ourselves and wouldn't have put up with anything less. He created the environment for us to discover who we were and what we believed. And even though he's no longer with us, generations to come will benefit from Ron's peace loving, embrace everyone sort of ways.

In his passing today, Ron leaves a legacy far and wide. He touched more lives than he will ever know and he found his unique superhero powers that allowed him to leave the world a better place. Like many Foresters, I will miss him, but when faced with a challenge will answer it with the question "WWRD (What Would Ron Do)?" I miss him and wish I'd made it a point to tell him of the impact he had on me, but tonight I'm especially glad I had the privilege of having Ron in my life.

Certain Songs Say What I Can't

I was having a conversation with a Lifetime Friend today about Little Merry Sunshine and I explained how sometimes I use it to say the things I cannot say out loud. For example, when Nana died, I couldn't say all I wanted to say about the grief I felt, but I could write about her and how much I missed her (and still do) and that helped me process my grief and come out of my depression.

Today is one of those days where I can't make the words that describe my feelings come out of my mouth, but I can sort of say them on Little Merry Sunshine. Well, Bruce Springsteen and Michael W. Smith can say them for me.

Why I Love Social Networking

I'll admit it. I love Facebook and Twitter. To a lesser degree, I also love LinkedIn, but not in the same way.

Why do I love these new fangled 21st century social networking websites? I'm glad you asked.

Let me give you some background. I was dragged into social networking kicking and screaming. It started with LinkedIn and I think I have my friend Kelly to blame for that. LinkedIn is a professional social networking site, where you post your resume, or as much of it as you are comfortable with posting, and you use your professional connections to build relationships with other professionals. Facebook came next. Tim is completely responsible getting me sucked into Facebook. And then there's Twitter. For the uninitiated, Twitter is a micro-blogging, text messaging, instant messaging site and I love it. Again, I give Tim the credit (or the blame depending on the day of the week).

What I love about social networking is the connection that it's allowed me to build with people I would have never otherwise known. More specifically, I love that it's allowed me to get to know a side of friends I've known for years that I would never have known otherwise.

Thanks to Facebook and Little Merry Sunshine (although more Facebook than Little Merry Sunshine), I have gotten to know quite a few people I went to high school and/or college with that I didn't know very well at either place.

Take my friend Beth. Although we were classmates and lived across the hall from each other freshman year, we ran in different circles at Lake Forest College. It was a small school and we knew each other, but we didn't really KNOW each other. Almost seventeen years later, we have reunited via Facebook, our blogs, and Beth's book Social Climbers and chat regularly. I've come to discover that we have more in common than just the fact that we both went to Lake Forest College. We both want to make the world better. We both want to be happy and love those around us. And we both despise Mean Girls (actual mean girls, not the movie).

Then there's Sonya. Again, we barely knew each other in college. I remember she was into horses; I remember taking a philosophy class with her; and I seem to recall that she went to a military boarding school. But I didn't know what an amazing mother she would make. I didn't know about her passion for her family and writing. But now, all these years later, thanks to Facebook, we have had an opportunity to get to know each other in a way we never could in College and I know that if we were closer geographically, we'd be good friends. I cherish the comments she leaves on Little Merry Sunshine because, in spite of the fact that we disagree politically, we both know that we agree on far more than separates us.

Barrie is another Forester I barely knew. I was her RA her freshman year in Deerpath, but after that I lost track of her. Until Facebook and now her blog, Barrie Briggs Spang The Designing Life, which recounts tales of her life as an interior designer. I would never have known about her incredible talents and passion for interior design, but for these incredible tools. I love getting to know her better each day.

John and I really became friends in junior high, although we lived a block apart and have known each other since first grade. In junior high, we walked home together, went to Washington DC together, and he even t-p'd my house. Ya, he was there when I fell in love with DC. We didn't hang out as much in high school, even though we only lived a few hundred feet from each other, and until we reconnected on Facebook, it was close to 20 years since we'd last spoken. When we started chatting on Facebook, it felt like it we had spoken just yesterday. When we finally saw each other last August, 20 years were erased in an instant.

Holly, Brian, and Ron were also junior high and high school friends I hadn't seen since high school, but thanks to Facebook, we know that we practically live around the corner from each other and hang out on a fairly regular basis. Holly was also on that incredible Washington DC trip in 8th grade. In fact, we were roommates, but like my friendship with John, our friendship faded a bit in high school (partly because she had moved away for 2 of the 4 years).

My cousins Elesha, Andrea, Alan, Robbie, Anna, Peter and I are in much more regular contact than we were in pre-Facebook days. I've seen Peter's new son, even though they live in New Orleans. I've watched Elesha's kids grow, although they're in Dallas. Most of us didn't grow up together like our parents did, so Facebook allows us to stay close even though we're all over the country.

I could go on all day with lists of friends I wouldn't hang out with now, but for reconnecting with them on Facebook.

But I haven't just reconnected with old friends. I've also made new friends. Susan is the perfect example. We met through Desi (another Forester) on Facebook. She writes the absolutely awesome Kittens Farting Rainbows. I mean, is there a better name for a blog? She is funny and smart and very much like me. We also chat via email and Twitter and Facebook and I know that if she lived in Chicago and not Memphis, I'd be running to her house to borrow a cup of sugar or shot of whiskey from time to time. But for Facebook, we'd never know each other.

I've heard some people say they wouldn't go back and reconnect with old friends because they prefer to remember friends as they were and not see them as they are today. They also worry that their friends are still living the lives of 10 or more years ago. I wholeheartedly disagree. I think that reflects more of a personal insecurity than anything else. Maybe those people aren't afraid their friends haven't evolved, but that they haven't personally grown and changed and don't want to have to look their own failings in the face. Maybe I'm wrong; that's just a theory.

I love learning about how the people who impacted my life so many years ago (and some I was too insecure to really get to know) have grown and changed and even stayed the same. These are the people who shaped my life and whose lives I shaped. We all shared similar experiences whether those experiences were a trip to Washington DC, band camp, the same freshman dorm , or a philosophy class during the time of the 1992 Los Angeles Riots. Some of them are people I loved and who loved me, whether those words were ever spoken or not.

Without fail, in every single instance, the friends I've reunited with via social networking have proven to be simply incredible people. Some I wish I'd gotten to know better when it was geographically easier, but I'm thrilled to be able to make up for lost time.

So if you're not taking advantage of these 21st century tools, why not? What have you got to lose?

My Cab Driver Bill

I have mentioned him before, but I have never blogged about him.

I met Bill a few years ago when I called for a taxi to the airport. He arrived in a brand new black Dodge Magnum that was sparkling clean on the inside. We talked all the way to O'Hare and I learned that he primarily worked for himself, but sometimes did some extra work for the cab company when they were really busy. As we drove, Bill's cell phone kept ringing with people calling for his personal livery services, many of them days out. From the little bit I could hear, each call was from a regular customer Bill knew well.

Since that first trip to O'Hare, I've never used another cab service. Most times he takes me to O'Hare, it's a cheerful trip, but he has also seen me on some of my most difficult days. Last summer, he drove me to O'Hare when I was flying to Florida for Nana's funeral and then each of my trips in August and September to help my mom. Those were really difficult trips for me, but Bill made them just a little bit better with his cheerfulness and just listening as I shared stories of my Nana with him. Being in his car feels like riding with a good friend.

In fact, that's how Bill perceives his job. He's a retired police officer, although I can't remember where now, and he told me when we first met that he loves his career now because he hangs out with friends all day as he drives them around. How can you not love that attitude?

On the way to O'Hare in August, I shared a story of how Nana received a box of chocolates at her retirement. The chocolates were nothing extraordinary, probably just a box of Whitman's Sampler, but I'll never forget the way Nana held that box like it was the Ark of the Covenant or some other treasure as she looked the man who gave it to her square in the eye and with sincerity and excitement said to him, "Oh! A box of fine chocolates! This is JUST what I've wanted!" She had this way of making you feel like $10 million. A few minutes later, we pulled into O'Hare and Bill opened up the glove compartment and handed me an envelope. Inside was a dark chocolate candy bar with the most fancy wrapping. I just looked at him with tears rolling down my face and made Nana's words my own. I don't know if the chocolate was high quality or not and it doesn't matter. That night, when I had a moment of peace to myself after the first of many difficult days, I unwrapped that bar and bit into what was the most incredible piece of chocolate I will ever have in my life.

Bill sends a quarterly newsletter to all of his clients. I look forward to these mailings because they are always uplifting and always hand addressed (who does that still?). The winter letter just arrived and on the outside, was written "The Wonderful Jessica Gardner." In a strange twist of fate this morning, I received a bunch of personal mail (as opposed to bills). Guess which envelope got opened first?

This is Bill's winter letter.

PRICELESS GIFTS
by Bill Hammers

My fall letter this year contained a true story told through the eyes of a cab driver. My winter letter is also a true story of mine that I thought you might enjoy.

Exiting our apartment one day I noticed our neighbor, Jean from across the hall, at the same time, about to pass me by with her garbage to deposit in the garbage room. She appeared to be in her late 70's, very frail looking with a scowl on her face.

Our eyes met, I smiled and said, "I'll let you by if you smile." Her eyes squinted, her mouth became smaller and she forced a half smile dismissing me as she passed by. As she went by I said, "next time it's a hug I'll want!" I remembered all the while other neighbors in the building telling me that this particular lady was "...an old crab...," and they didn't want to bother with her.

Our next encounter was on our elevator. I mentioned to Jean that frequently Kathy (my wife) and I dine out, and we'd be glad to bring something back for her if she'd like. Cautiously, she said, "yes...that would be nice."

So the ritual began - dinner in a Styrofoam container, a knock on her door followed by the container being left by her door, me running back to our apartment before she opened her door.

When Kathy cooked for us, she'd always make extra and we'd leave Jean her "surprise" package covered with foil at her door followed by the "knock" and retreat.

Weeks later Jean called and invited us to her apartment for a glass of wine. We were delighted. Her place was furnished in what appeared to be very rich looking painting and furniture. We sat down and she began telling us her story. She explained that at this time in her life she no longer had any relatives or friends left. She then proceeded to tell us that she knew she didn't have a lot of time left. After about a half-hour of small talk Jean said, "I was once invited out on a date and had a dress made for it, but he stood me up and I never wore it again." As she spoke she kept looking downward shaking her head. Jean then looked up, smiled and said to my wife, "Kathy, I'd like you to have this dress." Stunned, my wife accepted as we both started tearing up.

Jean then asked me if I'd be able to take her to the hospital when her emphysema flared up, because, she stated "...the paramedics hurt me trying to life me onto the stretcher..." Over the following years, I did take hero n a number of occasions.

During those years, Jean would call Kathy over to her apartment and give her dolls she had from Macy's that were never even out of their boxes because she knew we had granddaughters.

Months later, our phone rang very late at night. My wife answered and handed the phone to me saying it was Jean and she wanted to talk to me. Jean explained, "Bill, I'm not going to make it through the night and I'm afraid to die alone!"

We talked about almost anything and everything that popped into our minds. Nothing profound mind you, just talked.

The next few days I tried to get information from the hospital about how Jean was doing, but because I wasn't a relative, none was given to me. Finally, I was lucky to speak with someone who, after I explained how I knew Jean, told me she had passed away two nights before.

Weeks later walking back from Jewel across from our apartment, another neighbor from our building also stopped by the red light, and questioned me about Jean and if I had talked to her prior to her passing. I explained we did, Jean was a very private person unlike how she was perceived by most. I went on to say that another neighbor in our building asked me about our relationship with jean and hinted as to what, if anything, Jean had left us. I explained both Kathy and I had several conversations with Jean and Kathy was given a brand new dress over 25 years old, and I, well I received her last phone call.

Jean, wherever you are, thank you for your "crabby" old smile at our first encounter; you taught both Kathy and I what priceless gifts are really all about - God Bless You!

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I could tell you many more Bill stories, but we'd be here all day. Suffice it to say, I think the world of him.

If you need cab service and want to feel like you're riding with family, call Bill. You won't have a better ride to O'Hare. He's not the cheapest, but his rates are very competitive and for the service he provides, it's a steal. Oh, and he lives in downtown Arlington Heights, so when you use his service, you're keeping your money local by supporting a small business in our community.

Bill Hammers
Time Bandit Taxi/Limo
847-420-6664

Oh, and tell him I referred you. It's the least I can do for all he's done for me. He's not just my cab driver. Bill is my friend.

My Favorite Christmas Gift

Today I received my last Christmas present. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting this gift, which is part of what made it extra special. The best part of the gift was that the person who gave it to me had clearly put some effort into thinking about what I would like.

He remembered how much I was inspired last year by a certain story, wrote about it four times and said repeatedly that it gave me courage to quit listening to the negative voices inside my own head telling me I couldn't do things. He also saw my world rocked just a couple of months later and how I let the weight of the world be put on my shoulders and put my own dreams, hopes, and desires aside. He listened to me sob on more than one occasion when I completely broke down. He never judged me. He just kept being my friend, even when I'm not sure I deserved it.

What was this gift? It was the new CD by Susan Boyle, "I Dreamed A Dream." Honestly, I don't remember the last time I bought a CD and more than that, I don't remember the last time I sat down and listened to one from beginning to end, like I did tonight, and simply loved each and every song.

Okay, I'll grant you that not one of the songs was an original. They were all covers. Lots of artists do covers of famous songs, but they don't all hit each of them well. Susan Boyle hit every note in every song with as close to precision as I could tell.

You can listen to samples of each track on the album here. My favorite is "Who I Was Born to Be."

To be sure, 2010 is off to a great start and I'm back on track to be who I was born to be. And for those times I forget, I'll just toss in this CD and be reminded. Now I'm going to go upload it to my iPod, if I can figure out how.

Natural Highs

#15 on the list of Natural Highs.
Taken by me at Watervale, August 2007.

A good friend sent me a delightful email yesterday that put a big smile on my face. It was titled "Natural Highs" and I'm sure you (like me) have seen this list before, but it's so good it's worth repeating.

How many Natural Highs have you experienced recently? I've had 25 Natural Highs lately.

Natural Highs

1. Falling in love.

2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.

3. A hot shower.

4. No lines at the supermarket.

5. A special glance.

6. Getting mail.

7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.

8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.

9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.

10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.

11. Chocolate milkshake (vanilla or strawberry).

12. A bubble bath.

13. Giggling.

15. The beach.

16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.

17. Laughing at yourself.

18. Looking into someone's eyes and knowing they love you.

19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.

20. Running through sprinklers.

21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.

22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.

23. Laughing at an inside joke with FRIENDS.

24. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.

25. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.

26. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).

27. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.

28. Playing with a new puppy.

29. Having someone play with your hair.

30. Sweet dreams.

31. Hot chocolate.

32. Road trips with friends.

33. Swinging on swings.

34. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.

35. Making chocolate chip cookies.

36. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.

37. Holding hands with someone you care about.

38. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.

39. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.

40. Watching the sunrise.

41. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.

42. Knowing that somebody misses you.

43. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.

44. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.

What Books Shaped You?

Growing up, I was a voracious reader. Thanks to my mom and dad, I always had a book in my hands. They read to me every night and usually more than 1 or 2 stories because I was notorious for managing to get many stories out of them. They read to me so much that one night when I was 2 they heard me in my room reading Twas the Night Before Christmas aloud. When they walked in, I was not only reading the book, but I was turning the pages in all the correct places. My mom, a reading teacher, was convinced I head learned to read at this precocious age, until a few minutes later when they realized I'd simply memorized the story because they had read it to me so often.

To this day, there remain some books that have stayed with me. Books that I return to time and again, even as an adult. They shaped me. I wanted to be the heroines in these books and believe they were some of the first feminists I knew.

This all came back to me today thanks to Gourmet Goddess who happened to mention on Facebook this morning that she's re-reading the Little House on the Prairie series. This turned into a discussion about the pro-girl books a bunch of us grew up loving. I suggested we have a summer book club and re-read them and discuss how they shaped us, the gender roles they were subject to, their feminist principles, their relevance to today's girls, and how we'd address some of these books with our daughters, if we had them. And a summer book club was born.

These are the books that shaped me and I hold dear to my heart. Many of them were first read over 30 years ago.

Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Anne of Green Gables series by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Heidi by Johanna Spyri
Nancy Drew (and here) series by Carolyn Keene
Eloise: a book for precocious grown-ups by Kay Thompson
Blubber, It's Not the End of the World, Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret, Deenie, and Forever by Judy Blume

What books from your childhood have stayed with you?

Bank Account of Happiness

One of my dearest friends sent me the following note this morning. Sure, it's from one of those kind of cheesy emails that says to send to 27,000 of your closest friends for good luck (and I'm taking my chances with that by not forwarding it), but the message is perfect and fits with my beliefs about happiness. We all have a choice each day to be happy or not. Yes bad things happen and we all have stuff to deal with. I believe, however, that it's not about what happens to us that determines our happiness in live, it's how we deal with what happens to us that speaks volumes.

Enjoy and make today a happy one!

A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with his hair fashionably combed and shaved perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready. As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window.

“I love it,” he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

“Mr. Jones, you haven't seen the room; just wait.”

“That doesn't have anything to do with it,” he replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged...it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away...Just for this time in my life. Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you've put in."

“So, my advice to you,” he continued, “would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories! Thank you for your part in filling my Memory Bank. I am still depositing! Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.”

Author Unknown, at least to me.

You Were Loved

This is one of my absolute most favorite songs in the world. Whenever I need a pick-me-up, I turn it on as loudly as possible and remember all the people I have ever loved and have ever loved me. Clarence the Angel in "It's A Wonderful Life" (and here) had it right when he inscribed that book to George: "No man is a failure who has friends."

And so this afternoon, I post this video of "You Were Loved" by Wynonna (which is from the Touched by An Angel soundtrack) set to clips from The Lion King (I'm not sure why, but it's the only video of this I could find) and dedicate it to all those I love. And if you're reading this post and wondering if I mean you, the answer is yes.



For the full effect, read the lyrics too.

You Were Loved by Wynonna
We all want to make our place in this world
We all want our voices to be heard
Everyone wants a chance to be someone
We all have dreams we need to dream
But sweeter than any star you can reach
Is when you reach and find you've found someone
You'll hold this world's most priceless thing
The greatest gift this life can bring
If you can look back and know
You were loved.
CHORUS:
You were loved by someone
Touched by someone
Held by someone
Meant something to someone
Loved somebody
Touched somebody's heart along the way
You can look back and say
You were loved.
You can have diamonds in your hand.
Have all the riches in the land
Without love do you really have a thing
When someone cares that you're alive
When someone finds their world in your eyes
Then you'll know you've find all you need
You'll hold this world's most priceless prize
The sweetest treasure in this world
If you can look back and say
You were loved
CHORUS
So many roads that you can take
Whatever way you go
Don't take that road alone
Better you should know...
You were loved by someone
Touched by someone
Held by someone
Meant something to someone
Loved somebody
Touched somebody's heart along the way
You can look back and say
You did OK
You were loved.
So remember to tell that one
You are loved.

My Boys

In junior high, John, Pete, Gary, and I were thick as thieves. Although I've known John since first grade and we grew up just a block apart, it took us until junior high to get tight. That's when Pete and Gary came into our lives. They were the kind of guy friends my parents trusted implicitly. My parents always knew that if I couldn't be found, I was probably off causing trouble with My Boys.

When I had an emergency appendectomy in 6th grade, Pete and Gary came to visit. When my parents split up a year later, the Boys were my rocks. John's parents were already divorced, so he knew what I was going through more than the others. John and I used to walk the mile home from junior high together regularly. I always knew that no matter what, I could count on My Boys to get me through.

One of my favorite memories of My Boys took place without me the summer after 7th grade. In what I'm certain was his effort to give us some normalcy even though there was no way he could afford it, my dad had taken Dave and me to Watervale for a week and my mom was home alone. At some point that first night alone, mom was woken up by incredibly loud noises and the sounds of all of the pipes rattling as the outside hose being turned on. Believing burglars were trying to break-in, she picked up the phone and called 911 without looking out the window.

Terrified by the horrendous sound of the pipes rattling, she sat on the floor of her bedroom whispering to the 911 operator and within a few minutes was told she can go to the front door and speak with the officers. No fewer than 6 squad cars had arrived from all different directions and when she opened the door, she saw the entire house and all the trees had been tp'd, lipstick had been used to write on the garage windows, and the hose was used to make it all that much more difficult to clean up. There may also have been eggs involved. She and the officers had a good laugh.

I'm sure she knew that John, Pete, and Gary were behind this hysterical prank, but they were no where to be found. The boys and I never spoke of it.

John and I have reconnected on Facebook in the last few months. He and his beautiful family are in town this weekend and we had plans to get together for some drinks tonight, but I've been really sick and had to cancel. One of the first things he said to me when we first reconnected was about a night he and Pete, and Gary tp'd my house. We had a good laugh because he didn't know they'd scared my mom so badly she called the cops. He has also apologized profusely, which I've assured him was entirely unnecessary. Truthfully, my mom thinks it was so funny that she tells the story to this day. "Jessica, do you remember that time when Dad took you and Dave to Watervale . . . . " is all I have to hear to know we're headed down the tp'ing path.

It's been 20 years since we've seen each other, but the thing about some friends is that you just pick up right where you left off. John is one of those friends.

Since I couldn't go out tonight, I've put John on notice that if my house gets tp'd tonight, I'm coming to find him early in the morning!