The Unexpected Life

I’d just finished a 6-mile run one muggy Virginia summer day a couple of years ago. If you know the Alleghenies, you know the kind of day I’m talking about. The sky is a washed-out-blue-jeans indigo, thin-strips of white-cotton clouds hiding a low burning sun. That kind of day doesn’t feel hot, but leaves you wringing your arms and legs out within minutes of stepping off the front porch. Yeah, it was that kind of day. And, please, notice, I said I was in the mountains. So, this run was not for the flat-landers. Up and down wooded trails, some paved, some graveled – all grueling. And, as always, my heart had found exhilaration with each footfall. Continue reading →

I find myself greeting the sun a lot these days, and I began pondering the different colors found in those intimate moments, because, let’s face it, no matter who is sitting or slumbering beside you, in that magical hour as the sun rises, you are, mostly in true intimacy with your God.

I love that time, those moments of quiet (mostly) solitude. I anticipate the burnt sienna, the cotton candy pinks, the Mandarin oranges that will soon streak across the sky. But you know those anticipations, those are simply temptations. My heart already dances at the purples spread before me. Continue reading →

I’d like to share a truth with you, something I do not normally talk about, something about which I tend to be sensitive. You see, I have a disability, a true out-and-out, dyed-in-the-wool disability – car plate indicator and all. If you had seen me out running errands or at church or anywhere else I tend to frequent, you wouldn’t necessarily have known about this disability unless I was having a “stormy” day. But now, well, now you couldn’t help but notice because now I have a constant companion, a 65-lbs shadow. He trails at me heel, sits when I ask (mostly), gets me things when I need, even closes the curtains and turns off the light when told, sometimes when not told if he thinks there could be a treat coming his way. This 65-lbs shadow is a little, yellow Labrador retriever named Jug. Continue reading →

Sprinting alone through Manhattan’s Upper East Side in the rain after wandering through the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a couple of hours, I realized I felt something rare – exhilaration.  I wasn’t dressed for running, of course.  Who is when they truly need to be?  I knew my cute little walk-around flats would be ruined, my jeans were soaked, my hair was plastered to my head (not a good look for me), and the umbrella I’d bought from a street vendor had, of course, imploded upon opening, sending me into a fit  of laughter, which, believe you me, cleared a wide space around me.  New Yorkers, en masse, deal well with crazy, but I think the laughter at the immediately broken umbrella was beyond their scope of comprehension.

What those skeptical New Yorkers couldn’t know was that my soul was singing simply because I was in NYC, where dreams are made, where people flood for the mere wisp of a chance at their heart’s desire.  It’s the penultimate city of infinite hope, a city that truly rises from the ashes and says, You won’t defeat us. Continue reading →

I have two men in my life under the age of 12, two fine-boned, beautiful, hyperactive, hard to control, leave-you-pulling-your-hair-out- by-the-roots men: Auz who just turned 11, and Z who is still platinum blond when his military-style “high and tight” clipper cut grows out.  (If you’re new to me, thanks for reading, but lest you think there is something incredibly wrong here, I must explain Auz and Z are my nephews.  All clear?  Great!)   Z’s the one with the startling tiger eyes, so like my brother, gold and unsettling, beautiful but with an undercurrent that whispers of the dark and dangerous depths of the jungle.  As different as night and day, and completely formed individual personalities, sometimes it is a joy to be with them together, and sometimes, well, not so much. Continue reading →

Last weekend I spent 5 lovely, almost relaxing days in Tucson with my family.  You must understand that my parents are extremely recent East Coast transplants who chose to leave their 20+ year community and their 20+ year friends as well as my 35 year old sister, Leah,  behind for the sake of being close to their two other children and their likely-to-be-only grandchildren under the age of twenty (My brother has been the only one to take up that mantle of be fruitful and multiply, but not for the lack of trying, mind you.).  Haven’t yet decided when the Wrath of Leah will descend on my parents or in what form, but you can bet that, oh, it’s a-comin’.  My vote?  A small intimate wedding, perhaps or elopement that the whole family knows nothing of until we see her on Facebook 7-8 months pregnant, and then it’ll be a breezy, by-the-way mentioned in passing sort of thing; my sister has always heard her own drumbeat and followed, and in a way I envy that non-conformist attitude.  But, then again, she has always had to learn her lessons the hard as titanium way (Don’t we all?), but sometimes the lessons don’t sink in, don’t penetrate that carefully constructed and precisely honed chainmail exterior.  And, thus, the inevitable  need to repeat itself. Continue reading →

Do you carry something on your heart with you everywhere you go?  A memory of a hurt you caused or a careless word that you wish you could take back?  Does the memory and remorse grow stronger with time instead of fade into the scenery of your mind and heart?  If not, feel free to stop reading now.  This little essay isn’t for you, but thanks for reading up to this point.  I really, honestly appreciate that you gave me any time at all, but, really, if you don’t carry even a shadow of something you wish you could undo, think of this as your class release bell.

If you’re still with me, read on.  Maybe you’ve experienced something similar, and then perhaps something in my heart will reassure you that, “You are loved beyond measure and are never alone.”  In any case, this essay’s short, and you might be entertained. Continue reading →

As my head cleared the last stair, I spied my younger nephew, Z, chomping away at an apple.  As he appeared quite absorbed in his latest video game,  I simply dropped a kiss on the crown of his head, and he murmured acknowledgment.   Then I went to sit by his brother, Auz, on the floor across the room.  As Auz began to fill me in on the latest happenings in his world, suddenly there came a great rending cry from behind us, as Z erupted in wails of anguish.  I leapt and spun in one fluid motion (I wish.)  from my spot on the carpet, sure a carotid had been sliced or at least something of the same magnitude.  Instead, Z sat dangling his apple from his little baby-bird hand with fat tears rolling down his sun-bronzed cheeks.  No blood, no bones, no immediately evident explanation. Continue reading →

I am awake at 3:40 am, and researching random trivia on the internet as my iPod plays a mish-mash of songs in the background. (They say you can tell everything you need to know about a person based on their playlist; if that’s true mine would tag me as a 25 year old gay man, I’m sure.) Then, suddenly, my heart recognized the music before my mind, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I wanted to tap the skip button, but oddly, my fingers remained curled in on themselves. “Butterfly Kisses,” flowed from the speakers, and I could do nothing about it. Continue reading →

I wouldn’t describe myself as a “car person.” I like them, and in my city they’re pretty much a necessity. No one, and I do mean no one, cherishes the idea of walking to and then sitting at the bus stop when it’s 108°, then being smashed against a stranger for the length of your daily commute, someone who may not hold personal hygiene to your same level of high regard. But, as I reflect on my automobile history, I am, I must admit, somewhat of a car snob, not to the brand of the car per se, but the type.

No, it’s true, though I am ashamed to admit it, but honest enough to say that the shame is probably not enough to overcome the habit.  You ask me what kind of car?  Well, a sports car.  (Is there really any other kind worth the admission?) Continue reading →