November 4, 2024 · 11:07 pm

Life Will Come Our Way


Four years ago next month, I sat at this very same computer and penned a long, emotional goodbye to all I’d ever known. My time in the town that raised me was up and I headed west to Texas to face a new beginning. At the time, that plan didn’t involve leaving Texas, only getting there and establishing myself. Today marks a revision to that plan. In the most bittersweet of ways, the Texas chapter of my life comes to a close.

For the last two years or so, the distance between my family and I has become too great a burden to bear. The more days that passed, the more I realized I needed to find a way to close the gap. Before figuring out any details, I started to wonder how it might all work out. Internally, I viewed the distance as a battle. As more time passed, the battle became harder to endure. My grandmother always told me to “choose my battles.” I took that as choosing the ones to fight as well as the ones to walk away from. This is certainly one I’m willing to lose.

As with most things, this decision fills me with a variety of emotions. While I am elated to be moving to the same town as my family in Tennessee, I also have sadness to deal with. I don’t make any decision lightly and the gravity of this one is certainly not lost on me. I never miss an opportunity to stop and reflect so before moving on, I wanted to look back.

The only thing I really didn’t have figured out when I decided to move to Texas was a job. I knew what direction I wanted to go in and I had applied to a few before actually arriving, but nothing was set in stone. After being here for three months, I landed with a company that provided me a chance to take my career to heights I never imagined it would reach. Every day for the last 3+ years I’ve had the pleasure of working alongside some of the most creative, hard-working, dedicated, intuitive, and friendly individuals I’ve ever met. I had the privilege of running projects of all sorts and meeting people from all over the world. I even had some of my work featured in publications and nominated for awards. It would be impossible to thank every single person deserving of my gratitude, but I would want them all to know that I am better off after having met them. Many of the conversations, lessons, and stories will stay with me forever.

A thought that crosses my mind often is the realization that you never truly know the last time you will perform an activity or see a certain individual. I think of the song “Last Time for Everything” by Brad Paisley. This thought has plagued me over the last few weeks. To think that I have likely seen people for the last time who have meant so much to me during my time in Texas is a tough pill to swallow. My consolation prize for this is the constant remembrance of the impact they’ve had on me, some of which have been profound.

There aren’t enough words to mention everything in Texas that I’ll miss, but some things will leave noticeable voids. I can’t count how many phone calls I’ve had with Lyndsey and Madison that lasted over an hour or how much time I spent wondering on any given day what part friend, coworker, or therapist they were to me. I haven’t always been the best at “letting people in” but I’m thankful for their friendship and generous contribution of time always. I’ll miss sitting on the balcony with Bobbie every night, watching her cats Ari and Luna dart around as we watched planes take off and land at the distant airport. Every time I look at the night sky, I think of her and wonder if there’s some chance she’s looking up too. The meaning of “right person, wrong time” holds real weight now. I bought my first new truck in Texas, had it totaled in a head-on collision, and bought my second. I’ll miss the short drive to the Starbucks by my house and being welcomed each day by any one of perhaps a dozen employees who took the time in the last four years to learn my name and my exact coffee order. It’s the small things, after all. I’ll miss my talks with Kevin too, the manager of a steel company who was from New York and just so happened to provide the steel for SUNY Oswego the same year I became a student there. We’d often catch up about living in the northeast and share memories of our time there. It’s amazing where life will lead you.

It goes without saying that without Clayton, there is no Texas for me. As if I didn’t spend the last 17 years of my life accruing massive debt to the Brooks family, I sure added to it with this move. Clayton allowing me to move into his house was what sealed my decision to move to Texas in the first place. He showed me ultimate understanding and applied no pressure whatsoever. I was allowed to look for work and find my way while having the support of him and his wife, Claudia, the entire time. Everything I’ve had the pleasure of earning and experiencing in Texas is due in no small part to him. When Clayton left our hometown in 2012 to move to Texas, I always wondered if I’d ever see him again. Never did I imagine eight years later we’d be living under the same roof.

When I pulled into his driveway on that rainy New Year’s Eve, he had just gotten engaged. Now just four short years later he’s married and has two children of his own. I was lucky enough to get a front row seat to the wedding when Clayton chose me to be his best man. Seeing him build and grow his family has filled me with such joy. As I mentioned in my speech at the wedding, I root for his success always. I also can’t help but mention how cool it was to share a co-ed softball field with him in Texas ten years after we had done the same thing in New York. Maybe in another ten we’ll team up in a different state.

I know that as time goes on, I will be able to overcome the sadness that accompanies my leaving. I’ve come to value both the journey and the destination. I’ve learned that where you came from is just as important as where you’re going. And I know that where I’m going is the place that I need to be. I have spent many nights trying to figure out this move and all the logistics needed to make it happen. When I left the Northeast four years ago, I had to hand out a bunch of “goodbyes.” It is with immense delight that I now get to take some of those “goodbyes” back. It’s been a long time coming.

I have had to be a long-distance father for the last four years and while I’m thankful that the benefit of technology made this easier, there’s still nothing like the real thing. My favorite part about this move is that my children don’t know that I’m making it. Not only will they be greeted with the surprise of me showing up at their house unannounced, I also get to tell them that this trip will be a little bit different because I’m not returning to Texas this time. I have spent the better part of two years envisioning how that conversation will go. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Two other “goodbyes” went out to my brothers. “Bailey Boys” is plural after all, and I’ve been a solo act for far too long. So much of who I am and continue to be is because of the bond we forged throughout our lives. As it turns out, when I moved to Texas, they relocated to Tennessee. Today I trade in my fourteen hours of distance for a few minutes and rejoin them as well. There’s nothing quite like having a brother and I’m thankful for the two I’ve been given in this life.

I spend much of my free time reading and sometimes I feel a little bit down when I finish a good book. I look for ways to replace that feeling and something that has worked for me is finding the next good book. So while the Texas book is finished, I haven’t opened the Tennessee book yet. How I look forward to all it has in store for me.

I arrived in Texas hopeful and I’m leaving Texas grateful. I will parlay that same sense of hope to my new life in Tennessee.

“Dreams mean everything. They’re the stories we tell ourselves of what could be, who we could become.”

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December 23, 2020 · 10:56 pm

Goodbye Jimmy, Farewell Youth


I remember being in high school and hearing most other kids talk about leaving my small town of Dover Plains, NY. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of Dover,” they’d say. Not me, though. I always wanted to stay. I never had big dreams, but I knew I wanted to remain where I’d been born and raised and build something for myself in that little town. I went away to college 5 hours away, moved out of the area to live with a girlfriend, and even took a job working on the road, but I always returned. I came to grips with the reality that my role was to watch others leave. I said goodbye to Jim as he headed off to college, watched Clayton move away to Texas, and saw my sister leave for New York City. Most recently I said goodbye to my children as they moved south with their mother. Now it’s my turn to pack up and move. Before I do, though, there’s much to say.

The idea of my children moving away has been floated for some time, with varying degrees of seriousness. Years ago while their mother and I were still together, she would express her desire to move south. Those conversations always ended with me showing zero interest and not long after, they’d fade. That all changed over the last few months, as moving away became a reality for them. Very slowly I came to grips with this and had to decide what I’d do about it. I’ve been there for my children always, regardless of my relationship with their mother. Through cheerleading, football and baseball games, birthdays, and Christmas, they’ve had both parents their entire lives. I don’t express often how lucky I am as a single father to be so involved in their lives, especially when I see other single fathers who aren’t nearly as fortunate. After meeting with a lawyer multiple times and going over my options, I decided to give up any thought of a struggle and do what those closest to me would find unimaginable: move south myself. Life is full of decisions, some difficult, some simple. We’ve all had to make them. Some you make in the blink of an eye and some cause you hardship. You search your soul, lose sleep, and in the end hope to rest on a choice with the most favorable outcome. Above all, you do the best you can and with a little luck, life just falls into place.

Leaving the northeast is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make for sure. Everything I’ve ever done I’ve accomplished here. All of my best moments and all of my worst. I learned to love and learned how to deal with heartbreak. It’s where I became a father. It’s where I lost my hero. It’s where I graduated school and opened two businesses. It’s where I met the love of my life and where I lost her, too. Every pitch I’ve thrown, touchdown I’ve caught, mile I’ve ran, goal I’ve scored, and basket I’ve made has been here. Every laugh, every smile, every tear, every hug, and every bit of pain occurred here. Thirty-one plus years of triumph and letdown has all lead to this moment for me.

It goes without saying that I don’t get to this moment alone. The person I am today has been molded by the families who have helped me along the way, and for them I’m eternally thankful. From opening your homes to me and including me in your family holidays to making me feel like I was part of something special or helping lead me on his journey through life, I can’t repay you for what you’ve given me but I want you all to know I’m better for having been given your time along with so many memories I’ll keep forever. To the Jacksons, the Schreyers, the Duckworths, the Holmes’, the Brooks’, the Monteros, the Penneys, the Winters’, the Travis’, the Neckles’, the Hunts, the Whitneys, the Kaplans, the Rodriguez’, the Vingoes, the Marsellas, and the Edholms: my life is better because of you. Thanks for everything.

It wouldn’t be a going away story without all the things I’ll miss, and no doubt it’s a list too long for words. I’ll miss the Cumbies trips for coffee with my brother Matt at all hours of the day and night. I’ll miss standing on a baseball mound trying to lead my team to victory. I’ll miss battling with my brother Ray to see who could pull our debit cards out quicker to pay for meals, because we’d be damned if we let anyone else pay. I’ll miss driving down the backroads on which I grew up when I had a bad day, letting my thoughts bounce around the car as music played. I’ll miss the smell of coffee in every shop during the colder seasons. I’ll miss tea with Jessie as our children played. I’ll miss Kent Coffee & Chocolate where Sarah always made my “usual” just perfectly. I’ll miss driving by all of the homes I’ve worked on and thinking about how far I’d come in life and career. I’ll miss the wildlife, the outdoors, and the familiar faces of business owners I grew so close to. I’ll miss the streets I’d walk up and down as a child, taking me to that day’s adventure. Damnit I’ll even miss the cold and the snow, because without it I couldn’t truly appreciate the warm months. And so much more.

To Jim: If I had the blueprint for what a true friend embodies, I imagine it would look a lot like you. For the nearly 20 years I’ve known you, your support has been nothing but consistent. Whenever I’ve needed guidance in life I’ve sought your opinion and I’ve always been given an honest and thoughtful answer, not always one I wanted to hear. I always treasured that ability to be straightforward and honest. You could fill a book with our list of memories and I look back on them always. Know that I root for you always and support you in all that you do. The distance between us may be growing, but know that I’m never too far away.

To Clayton: Without you and your family, perhaps I never get to return to Dover for my senior year of high school. Maybe I get stuck moving away with my parents and graduate somewhere else. Being able to complete school where I started it has always mattered greatly to me, and I’m thankful you guys gave me that chance. Also my friend for nearly 20 years, you’ve been my sounding board for everything I’ve gone through, offering me advice every step of the way. Even now, as I transition into this next phase of my life, you and Claudia have given me the foundation to start over and build something new, a gift I can’t begin to express my gratitude for. I thought when you moved to Texas all those years ago it meant I’d see you sparingly, even though we spoke on the phone almost daily. Who knew I wouldn’t be too far behind you.

Finally, to my siblings: Our upbringing was short on parenting, but thanks to our grandmother and our bond with each other, there was no lack of love and support. I didn’t get the choice to be a big brother to you three, but it was always my choice to be the best one I could be. I try always to support the three of you in all that you do. We’ve all had our ups and downs, but I’ve been there through it all. I often try to lead by example and while I’m no expert on life, I hope some of what I’ve gone through or experienced has provided something to lean on. I’ve never complained about the opportunities I haven’t been given, instead I tried to make the most of the ones I was lucky enough to be presented with. I’ve always tried to express how supporting those closest to you is what matters most.

I thought I was setting the bar when I was the first child to go to college and then Megan came along and shattered the accomplishments I’d set and became the most educated of the four of us. I still remember the drives to and from New Paltz, happy to be a small part in your journey through college. Though six years apart, I never felt I was talking to someone so much younger. Your maturity and awareness has always shined through and I’m so very proud of the woman you’ve become.

Twice in my life I’ve received an early morning phone call telling me my brother Ray was in the hospital after a car related injury and twice I found myself speeding to the hospital in my truck thinking maybe the worst could happen. Thankfully life had other plans and everything is alright now, but I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost him. He’s the most adventurous out of all of us and sometimes not without a close call or two. He’s the reason I drink coffee and the reason I met Landon and Savannah’s mom. He’s my first call when I have any car related question because he’s forgotten more than I’ll ever know about the topic. Above all else he’s been there for me always, never too far away and always helping in a moments notice, not just for me but others as well. The definition of hard working, he’d still find time to help out a friend into the early morning and go to work with little to no sleep. I’ve always seen myself as hard working and I appreciate it more in him.

I remember visiting my brother Matt on his birthday one year as he was in jail for a short time and telling him life would be better. I look at him now and I couldn’t be happier at the man he’s become. A sponge for learning, he’s always willing to do whatever it takes to educate himself. From reading to listening and getting hands on with his work, it reminds me of how I approached the construction industry when I first delved into it. Now having his own company to manage, I hope for his continued growth. I can’t count the times we’ve gone for a walk for coffee, from summer nights to freezing cold winter ones, talking about life, our pursuits, and where we went wrong. I’m happy we’ve been able to be so close these last few years, living together and leaning on our bond to get through. Matt’s story is his to tell but I’ll say this: I’ve never seen a greater personal comeback than the one he has accomplished. I’ll be his number one fan always.

As I leave on this journey I do so with so many memories, moments, and relationships I’ll value always. I look forward to the challenges and life ahead and I’ll look back on my time in the northeast every day I’m sure. I’m committing to giving this move a one year trial before I decide if it’ll be permanent or not. In that time I’ll get myself established, explore the history of my new location, and find new places to fish and hike. My scenery will change but who I am will not. Deep down I’ll still be that young boy clinging to his small hometown.

My daughter Savannah always asks me why I tell everyone I’ll “see them later” when I part ways instead of saying “goodbye.” I try to explain to her that it’s just how I’ve always spoken. “Goodbye” has a more rigid form of closure to it, “see you later” is more a tone of expectance. Nothing is different about this departure either.

It’s see you later, northeast.

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January 31, 2019 · 12:04 am

The Learning 20’s


Very rarely am I sentimental and it’s even more rare that I celebrate. I describe myself to others as being “somewhere between two and eight on the emotion scale. Never too low, never too high.” I have always expressed reflection, however, and with an hour remaining before I turn 30 and my age ceases to begin with a 2, reflecting is what I’m doing. Every single important or monumental moment in my life except my birth, graduating high school, and learning what it means to love another person occurred in my twenties.

I didn’t celebrate turning 20 and saying goodbye to my teens. I didn’t celebrate turning 21 and being able to legally drink. I didn’t celebrate turning 25 and being “halfway to 30.” I aged, at least in my own head and heart, like nothing was different. I grew up in years but largely remained the same in belief and personality, with a few lessons learned with each passing year. I became legally licensed at 20, long after my friends and people I went to school with did. Growing up I never had the support of my parents and the ability to develop skills and have opportunities that others did. My household wasn’t one that promoted the flourishing of its young members. Only when I was able to get out into the world and have a family friend offer to teach me to drive on their time with their vehicle was I given such a chance.

I lost my grandmother in my twenties and although her memory is with me always and I carry it with me daily, I’d still give up most anything for one more cup of tea with her. My life had never been “rocked” at its core before, and with her passing a wrecking ball of emotion did major damage to my soul. Over time I’ve learned to accept her death and keep her memory and her words alive in all that I do, reciting back lines and lessons each day, but the hurt will never leave. It’s tough, to think of the person most important to you in life, one that molded you, protected you, and did their best to guide you and all of a sudden they’re gone. All you can do is put their teachings to use and be your best self. I’ve tried to do that and be the example for others that she was for me.

I became a father in my twenties and although not everything is the essence of a fairy tale, I wouldn’t trade my parenthood for anything. My children have always been a sanctuary for me and they are the only thing that makes me immune to bad moods. They make me laugh all the time, make me smile even when they’re not around, and they have no idea how thankful I am to be their father. They don’t know that when they fall asleep at night I kiss their foreheads and I smile to myself. I know that as they age they’ll encounter more and more of life’s problems, just as I have, and I hope I can guide them to the best of my abilities. If I’m lucky enough to live for another decade, they’ll be in their teenage years when I’m 40 and I’ll have ten more years of their impact on my life to look back on. I don’t describe many things with the word “blessing” but it seems fitting here that my children represent a blessing to me.

Ironically, I went to college to be a writer and after five years, I came home to a summer job in commercial construction and it’s been my career ever since. I’ve always been headstrong, passionate for the things I do, and had a do-it-myself attitude. At the age of 22 I became self-employed as a DBA and at 25 I opened my own LLC which remains in business to this day. The world of construction and building has always been around me. I remember being young, perhaps 13 or 14, and my father and uncle would bring me along as they set modular homes and would let me doing menial tasks such as hammering nails into deck boards. Even being around the trades all those years, I never developed a passion or an interest for construction. To me, it was something that my father and others did, but not me. That changed when I got that first commercial job, however, and I wanted to be the best I could be at it, in as many facets of it as I could. I was lucky enough to work for two companies early on whose owners were quality teachers and gave me opportunities to succeed and learn as much as I could handle. Construction has given me all that I have today and continues to provide a living for my family and for that I’m thankful as well.

After being alive for three full decades my focus now shifts to the next one. I am so very thankful to have lived for nearly 30 years and I think about that often. There are some that don’t get the opportunity to be alive for 30 minutes, 30 days, or 30 months and yet here I am and that brings me much gratitude. When I graduated high school I made one promise to myself: to be loyal to my health and fitness and to maintain it into my adult life and that I’ve done. Being able to join an adult baseball league and play against top players has been a dream come true, one that I didn’t get to pursue until I was 28. My twenties taught me patience, something I struggled with in my youth. They also taught me what’s important, what isn’t important, and how to live with accepting both.

Perhaps it’s my reflection or maybe I’m learning some sentiment, but I’ve been peeking over at the clock since I woke up this morning. I’ve been doing constant math in my head, counting how many hours I have remaining in my twenties. With each passing hour I’ve been reflecting, learning about myself, swimming in memories good and bad, and looking forward to what’s next. As the hour-glass runs out of sand on my third decade on this Earth I can’t help but imagine what the fourth will hold. Regardless, I’m happy with who I’ve been and who I’ve become the last 30 years. I hope I’m around for another 30.

 

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September 11, 2018 · 5:15 pm

A Letter To My Teammates


Last Fall I typed a message in this very group detailing how I wanted to return to the Pirates for a 2nd season because we had “unfinished business” after losing a championship game. Tonight I type this message because I won’t be returning for a 3rd. While I have my reasons, I want to instead talk about the positives.

Years ago, maybe in 2012ish, I responded to an online post looking for baseball players and I met John Bates for the first time. From that season until last season I was unavailable to play for the Pirates. Landon and Savannah were born, my family expanded, and I didn’t have time for baseball. Before last season I reached out to John and told him I had time now and he welcomed me back with open arms. Without John I don’t throw a single pitch in the NABA and I don’t get to play competitive baseball in my late 20’s. John I’ll be grateful always for the opportunity.

Chris Federico: I’ve spent more time on a mound than I probably deserved to at times and that’s because of you. You’ve had faith in me from the beginning and gave me a longer leash than sometimes I deserved, and I’m forever thankful. All I’ve asked for is an opportunity and Chris gave me plenty of them.

Kevin Bohannon: The catcher I’ve always needed and my favorite Pirates catcher. Kevin caught some of my best games and I’ve always leaned on his ability to walk to the mound and calm me down, correct my issues, and get the best out of me. As a pitcher I couldn’t ask for more.

I’ll miss talking about score-keeping with Zachary Andrews, talking life with Al Christopher, Kyle Geysen, and Tommy Corcoran, thanking my lucky stars I’ve never had to face Abel Vargas on the mound, “doing it for the Robs” with Rob Blumenthal, and welcoming the constructive criticism from Abigail Canning.

I’m thankful for my time with the Pirates and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I got to throw the very first pitch of our baseball season and I got to throw the very last. I wasn’t always at my best, often underperformed to my standards, and wish I could have done so much more for us. I’m thankful for every catcher who called my games. I rarely shook off because I had confidence in the job you’d do. I’m thankful for every position player who played behind me and got outs for our team when I pitched and I’m sorry for the long innings you had to endure when I struggled. I take everything I do in life seriously. I joke around, sure, but when it comes time to “do a job,” as Victor Porro always says, I’m all business. I took that baseball every time I had to pitch and tried to do my best. I understood the magnitude of my job as your starting pitcher and I did my best for us every time out. There was never a game when I showed up and played half-assed or didn’t give my full effort. I’m thankful to have played on a team that had so much success because we all know most teams in our league don’t get such an opportunity. I’ve always been humble in life and I remain so as I type this. I’m thankful for the opportunity to put that #18 on every Sunday and play the game I’ve loved since I was very young.

To the returning players next season I wish you nothing but the best. To the young players on the team just know that you can’t fake effort. If you show up and give your all you’ll be rewarded with opportunities because someone will notice what you put in. I didn’t play baseball from age 20 to about 27-28 and I see some of you guys that have this chance at 19, 20, 21 and you’ve got so much time to play, make the most of that. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my time with the Pirates it’s this: There are opportunities to be found on this roster. Thank you to all of my past teammates for making this experience an important one for me.

-18

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May 30, 2017 · 12:56 am

28/M/NY: Behind the ASL


A few weekends ago I met a female friend I’ve known for probably 10+ years and we sat and talked over coffee for three hours. Not only do I think this girl is absolutely stunning, but so do other men who see her, some of whom I speak to. At times, I would’ve probably dated this girl in a heartbeat if she was interested but truthfully in all of the years I’ve known her, the topic has never come up. Neither has “hooking up” and neither has anything to do with us doing anything physical with one another. Zero kisses, zero hugs, nothing. You might wonder, then, what we sat and spoke about for three hours on a Friday night at 10:00? It was Ebay, you know the website you join to buy and sell things online? It was this talk and my thoughts after having this talk that are the basis for what I’m writing now: I’m not a normal guy.

This same friend, who I’m choosing not to name, runs a few businesses and one of them is setting up accounts for people on various dating based mobile apps. You send her information and she tells you which photos to use, what to write, how to fix communication issues you may have had with past “matches,” etc. It’s actually quite fascinating in a way and the market for such a thing is probably bare, so she may be on to something. I applied her skills and vision to my life in a way and pondered what my profile would say if I signed up for Tinder. What information would I include? Would I omit anything about my life? How many words would it let me type before cutting me off? Delving further, assuming I had unlimited words and someone would read them all, my profile might read like the words that follow. Additionally, after spending ~3,827 days of my life in relationships that all ended for one reason or another, maybe a display like this is the spring-board to eternal happiness that has evaded me. Imagine if we all had a pamphlet accurately describing our lives for people who meet us to read. This is mine.

Let’s start with the basics, the kindergarten-level introductions that maybe don’t mean anything but you sometimes ask people anyway. My favorite color is yellow, my favorite animals are birds, and my favorite season is Spring, for its beauty and cooler temperatures. My favorite sports teams are the Denver Broncos (football), San Francisco Giants (baseball, and yes there is a Giants baseball team too), Colorado Avalanche (hockey), and Boston Celtics (basketball). I am left-handed, I play amateur baseball where I’m a starting pitcher, and I played college-level basketball, baseball, and men’s volleyball. I went to college for 5 years and finished without a degree because I joined the workforce on a summer break and never returned to school. I opened my own business at 23 and I still run it today, switching to an LLC almost three years ago. I’m 6’3 1/4″ tall and weigh ~185 pounds with somewhere between 4-6% body fat, I go to the gym six days per week, and I take physical health very seriously. I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs. I have tattoos on my arms and plan to get more. I listen to a wide array of music, whether it’s blasting Metallica or Avenged Sevenfold in the gym or listening to Jason Aldean as I day-dream while driving my truck.

Moving on, there are things that lie just below the surface that I might want to include, such as I have 2 children. I listen to music and think about the meaning of the song. What was the artist thinking? I’m the furthest thing from materialistic. I drive an old beat up Ford truck and I own 3 pairs of work jeans that I sometimes wear 3-4 days in a row before changing or washing them. Sometimes I come home from work late and I’m tired so I just eat and go to sleep and wake up in the morning and get dressed and go back to work without showering. I read a ton and when I’m at work I listen to audiobooks. I have always worked on all of my own vehicles. The number of sexual partners I have had in my lifetime is a single-digit number. I don’t really pay attention to what others think of me and I’m good at ignoring and tuning people out.

I read a book recently in which a group of researchers conducted a study. For the study they gathered random people and had them view college students’ dorm rooms in order to try to accurately describe things about the students, such as agreeableness, neatness, and intellect. Believe it or not, the random people were just as conclusive as people who had known the students for years. This idea is called “thin-slicing” and it states that you don’t need a ton of information all of the time in order to make a determination. The question the book poses is this: “If you were hiring a new employee and had one of these two choices, which would you choose: 1. Spend a year with the person in order to learn as much about them as possible or 2. Spend 30 minutes walking around their apartment or home.” Most people would choose #1, but statistics and studies like the one described above prove that sometimes more isn’t always better. By this same token, if you knew me or saw me out in public you might think I’m some dumb jock or some construction worker with no mind, but what if you could see my bedroom, what conclusions would you come to then? Imagine if as a bonus to the Tinder membership you got to view the person’s bedroom for 5 minutes.

Walking into my room you’d first notice the color of my walls, a darker gray that really resembles the majority of my life and interests: boring and ordinary. My cat, Stubby, might greet you and try to headbutt your face lightly, affirming he likes you and you may do as you please. You’d notice that besides the large mirror on my dresser, I also have 2 large bookshelves loaded with books of all sorts. Some historical books, some books on diet and working out, some books from my favorite fantasy series, Redwall, books by my favorite sports personalities whose radio shows I listen to daily, books on local crime, an entire set of encyclopedias, a Webster’s dictionary that is probably 6 inches thick that I got from some guy giving it away on Craigslist for free, and plenty of construction related texts. On top of those shelves sit historically important items to me: a set of ceramic dogs that my grandmother owned; one of the first 14 bottles of syrup that the largest facility in the world made which was given to me because I was part of the crew that built it; a massive collection of “heads-up” pennies that I’ve found throughout my life; the first walk-off home run ball I ever hit in co-ed softball; and an autographed Peyton Manning Denver Broncos helmet. You’d notice my computer sitting on my desk, its desktop filled with estimates for jobs of all sorts, some finished and some awaiting homeowners’ replies. A hamper tucked in the corner with dirty clothes, my baseball gear in my bag, and audio equipment would end the viewing. What you wouldn’t see, though, are clothes lying around because I put them all away as soon as they are done being washed. You wouldn’t see any dirty dishes or garbage scattered around, either. I may have partial OCD but I never leave a mess anywhere, whether it’s in my room or in my truck I try to keep my things neat and orderly. People used to walk into my college dorm room and notice its cleanliness and exclaim: “You’d never think a guy lived in here!” Like I said, boring and ordinary.

At this point you’ll have a basic understanding of my principles and hobbies and preferences, but you’ll assuredly need more material in order to paint the full picture. Perhaps you wonder if there are things I look for in others or things I don’t care about very much at all. You’d be right. I am not impressed by material items or things other people have in life, choosing to focus more on what makes up that person’s moral and emotional state. For instance, I’m not impressed if you can drive a standard vehicle. Unless my life is on the line and the only vehicle we have is a standard one and you knowing how to drive it determines if we live, who cares if you have the skill? When I see guys who get turned on by a girl “driving stick” I kind of chuckle. I don’t care about your belongings, car, house, etc. if your parents purchased them for you. If you have $1,200.00 per month in bills and your parents pay every dollar of them, how is that desirable to me? I like people who stand on their own feet with their own effort and when they get knocked down, they know how to pick themselves up. People who have sweat on their brow to show what they’ve earned are my kind of people. I’ve been helped in my life, sure, but I’ve never had a constant influx of family money to support my lifestyle nor do I ever see that happening. I don’t care about your scantily clad photos on social media or that you can get 50 “likes” on a photo on Instagram. Attention, to me, is a crutch. My father tells me that I’ve had abdominal muscles since I was “about 7 years old” and I once overheard his friend Mike saying to him, “Man, Rob is in good shape, when he gets older the girls will be all over him” and thinking to myself, “What does that mean?” I was about 10 and didn’t understand. Obviously, I know what he meant now and I also know I could post endless shirtless photographs all over social media and get all the “likes” and comments I could dream of, but I’m better than that. I don’t need the attention or want it. I’m confident in myself and my appearance, so much so that I don’t need reassurance from others to validate it. I don’t need to engineer popularity. I think people who do are secretly insecure and weak personality-wise. I don’t care about gossip, most of all. Let your friend wear her hair any way she wants and in any color she wants. Let your friend get cheated on by her boyfriend over and over and over and let her worry about it, why should you? Let some annoying person on social media be annoying. I hate complainers and the act of complaining. The example I give all the time is of this girl who used to be a waitress at the restaurant I worked at before going away to college. She would come in every day and complain about how crappy her boyfriend was and how much of a jerk he was. One day I finally lost my mind and told her to stop fretting about him or break up with him. Think about it. The reason you’re disgruntled is directly a result of your own actions. He’s YOUR boyfriend and he’s making YOUR life worse so much so that you complain every day at work, why not make the necessary changes so you can stop whining and move on? Solutions are sometimes so simple, at least to me.

I think if you could have a briefing of someone’s life before meeting or dating them, their relationship history should be a prerequisite. Maybe not the sexual aspects or all of the dark details, but their thoughts, actions, mentality towards others, and habits should be. This may be the first platform ever that I’m performing an autopsy of my past on, but what better example for my idea than to turn on the faucet of memories for my own life? I’ve dated many different females from all walks of life, from many different backgrounds, and with many different outcomes. I’ve dated girls who my parents loved, some my parents disliked, and some my parents never met. I’ve dated recovering drug addicts, girls who never used drugs, and girls who used drugs while we dated. I’ve dated girls who I had children with, girls who moved on and had children with their new loves, and girls who I spoke with about children but never had any. I’ve dated girls who had defined abdominal muscles, girls who had average builds, and an overweight girl. I’ve had relationships that lasted 3 days, 30 days, 300 days, and 1,300 days. I’ve dated a girl who drove a station wagon, a girl who drove a Porsche, and girls who had no car at all. I’ve dated a girl 12 years older than me, a girl 7 years younger than me, and plenty of girls within 3 years of my age. I’ve dated high school teachers with masters degrees, girls who worked desk jobs, and a girl who ran a company by day and went to college part-time at night. I’ve dated girls who liked my short hair, girls who were indifferent about my look, and plenty of girls who wanted me to grow my hair out (sorry never going to happen). I’ve dated virgins, girls who had a few sexual partners in their past, and girls who others whispered “whore” about behind their backs. I’ve dated girls who thought they belonged on the Victoria’s Secret runway but had mountains of insecurity that they kept hidden and girls who exuded confidence and didn’t necessarily make every head turn. I’ve dated girls who drove me crazy and girls I was crazy about.

There are regrets sprinkled in, however. No story is complete without the pitfalls that one suffers and mine is no exception. I’ve never been engaged or married and have only ever thought seriously about marrying one girlfriend. I’m part of a “broken family” and while I know the relationship ending was best, I often hope that my children see through it and can thrive in the environment they now inhabit. I’ve had great opportunities with some girls that I let slip away foolishly. I once walked 4-5 miles to meet a girl sometime in the summer of 2008-2009 and she expressed an interest in me and for some reason I declined to pursue it and we fell out of touch. Years later when I was single in the summer of 2015, I went on a 6 mile walk with her (lot of walking for this one) and couldn’t stop noticing the beautiful woman she had become and I kept kicking myself for my mistake all those years ago. Our walk ended with a hug and a text later that night expressing that the magic was still there and she couldn’t believe all the memories I had kept so many years later but I had 2 children, and her life wasn’t at a point where she could handle that. She later ended up getting back together with her ex-boyfriend and remains with him today. Another girl I actually did date was maybe the soul mate I didn’t know I had. Every morning she woke me up with a kiss and a cup of coffee and she always did the small things. Sometimes I look back on us and miss it because I haven’t had anything close to that type of treatment since. This girl once came to one of my flag football games that was played in pouring rain and she sat in the stands watching the entire game for two hours. Who does that? That is grounds to marry a girl right there, but instead I threw the relationship away for nothing and lost a good thing. Later in the summer of 2015 I met a girl and met up one Tuesday at a “country night” hosted at a local bar and we talked for hours. A friend of mine was there and texted me later that night and she said “Are you and that girl dating?” “No,” I said. “Well you should ask her out, you guys looked lost in each others’ eyes. I could see the connection.” This girl was gorgeous, I’m talking seeing-her-and-jaw-hitting-the-floor gorgeous. Some guys might pay to say two words to her and I spoke about 10,000 that night probably. She later stopped talking to me because I was a father. As God says in Bruce Almighty, “…you can’t affect free will.” And so it was, she was gone. I’ve had plenty of at-bats that ended up in strikeouts and many scars I can talk about.

I have days where memories take all of the air out of the room or the car. Other days I’m lonely and wonder if there’s someone for me out there, but I also know that sometimes being wanted means more than who is doing the asking, so I don’t make snap judgements. I’ve been in relationships where at times I’m setting myself on fire to keep the other person warm, a mistake I try to avoid. A girl came along once that changed the dynamic of my life. She took my hand, got me up off of my brother’s couch where I was living, and showed me that there are people in this world who can love a single father of 3 with their whole heart, so my hope doesn’t dwindle. I’m not actively searching for a mate and contrary to the thesis of this writing, I don’t have a Tinder profile. I go to work every day and spend my free time trying to be a better person, a better father, a better brother, a better son, and a better friend. I don’t have many people who are close to me but those who are I’m extremely loyal to and value their company more than I can express.

Everyone has a book about their life that is constantly being written with each passing day. I’m choosing to narrate mine up to this point. The next chapter hasn’t been written yet.

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March 8, 2016 · 9:50 pm

There Goes My Hero


 

I don’t have many heroes and most of the ones I do have I have never met, and probably never will. I always tell people that there is no man on this planet that I would rather be than myself. My confidence in my choices, my beliefs, my abilities, my philosophies, and my lifestyle is extremely high and being Robert W. Bailey Jr. is pretty cool. I have, however, tried to emulate those whom I admire, trying to incorporate qualities of theirs that I treasure into my own life. After my late grandmother, I would say that I have mirrored Peyton Manning more than any other human being.

All day at work yesterday I knew that Peyton would hold a press conference to announce his retirement at 1:00 and I kept looking at the clock as time grew near. I reached a stopping point and brought up the live stream of the press conference on my cell phone and watched intently, allthewhile understanding the magnitude of what I was watching and listening to: my favorite football player would NEVER play football again. It is truly hard for me to deal with in the short term. As I watched that press conference I was genuinely sad and I’m not saying that to get attention or to be emotional, but to express my respect and reverence for a man who doesn’t even know who I am, but has impacted my life forever.

I grew up as a Broncos fan, and have loved them for  20+ years. My teams ran into Peyton’s Colts in the playoffs a few times, losing both games by a combined score of 90-34. Watching him play the quarterback position was something that intrigued me like nothing else in sports. The way he analyzed defenses play-by-play under a 40 second ticking play clock as time ran constantly, play after play after play. It always seemed like someone was wide open. He would audible to a run play when no one expected it and it would be as if the defensive line didn’t exist as the running back ran up the middle. His teams scored often and in bunches and won double digit games almost every season.

When franchises find their “guy” and establish a “franchise quarterback,” that guy rarely hits the open market. Franchise quarterbacks often extend their contracts and remain with their teams for 10-15 years, retiring with the team that drafted them. Needless to say I never expected Peyton to become a free agent but due to health issues and the Colts holding the number one selection in the upcoming NFL draft, they let him go. I remember texting Jim after hearing Peyton’s name linked to our Denver Broncos and saying “No way dude, this can’t be possible, we might sign him.” Days later, we had signed Peyton Manning to a 5 year, 96 million dollar deal. My favorite player, the guy I had admired for years, was the starting quarterback for my favorite football team.

For the next four years, Peyton took my Broncos to a new level, a level that no other team in the history of the game has reached offensively. He set personal, all-time, and team scoring, passing yards, and passing touchdown records. He threw for 55 touchdown passes and threw for 5,477 yards in 2013, both single season records. The Broncos scored 606 points as a team, also a record. We reached the Super Bowl twice, losing Super Bowl 48 and winning Super Bowl 50 as an underdog. The “Peyton Years” will go down as some of my best football memories as a fan.

I’ll remember Peyton as being second to none in preparation, my favorite attribute of his and the one I try to copy the most. Peyton taught me that with proper research and preparing, you can put yourself in a better position to be successful. I have spent countless nights up late drawing up playbooks and calling my teammates and going over routes, schemes, match-ups, and situations. Peyton taught me to be humble and not parade my own accomplishments. He taught me to remain in the moment and not get too far ahead of myself. He taught me to take my job seriously, but also enjoy doing it. I learned to stand out by watching him in action. Finally, Peyton taught me to be a leader. Anyone in a group or on a team can be the loudest, the cockiest, the biggest, the strongest, but only some can lead. It takes more to be a leader. You need to be able to collect multiple personalities and egos and put them together while trying to be successful as a unit. On all of my sports teams I have tried to do just that for my team, sometimes we have conquered, sometimes we haven’t, but leading is a quality that remains always, and I’ll have it forever because of Peyton.

The last piece of Peyton Manning that will remain with me is the number 18. I have worn #18 since I was in high school no matter the team or sport. Dodgeball, baseball, softball, etc., the number 18 has always been on the back of my jersey. I own two Peyton Manning Denver Broncos jerseys and wore both of them for this past playoff run, knowing it could be the last time I wore his jersey. Wearing that number is representative of all that Peyton stands for and I’ll value it and his individual qualities for the rest of my life. I’ll value the touchdown passes, the audibles, the smiles, the press conferences, the analysis, yelling and high-fiving my girlfriend’s father when the Broncos scored a defensive touchdown in Super Bowl 50, the “Omaha”‘s, the praise from his teammates, debating his legacy with friends and others, and so much more. I want to thank Peyton for choosing to play for my favorite team and giving me four wonderful years as a fan.

Next season will feel awkward for me, but even more sad. For the first time in 18+ years, Peyton Manning will not be on an NFL team. Fathom that.

 

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September 8, 2015 · 10:25 pm

Happy Birthday


Dear Nan,

It’s your birthday today, and for the third year in a row, we can’t celebrate it in person together. I remember the last time we did, so clear that the moment will live on forever. I’m sad, I don’t show it nearly as much as I feel it, but it’s there. I did well today, only teared up twice at work and a few times pre and post-gym. I speak of you often, and remember you even more. I hope I make you proud sometimes. I know I’m not always my best, but I try to be. I falter, especially over the last year, and I’m sorry for that. You taught me to learn from mistakes, not repeat them, and I think I do a pretty good job of that. I’m going on 27 now, I feel young physically but old at heart, like I have this experience I’ve acquired decades early. I long for one more talk with you, one more cup of tea, one more laugh, one more smile, one more phone call, one more conversation about how the Yankees are being foolish, one more hug, one more minute. I try to keep the others in line, they are their own individuals, however, so I try to guide more than steer. You raised us well, and we know that. Once again, thank you for every moment you spent with me, and every piece of knowledge you bestowed upon me. I’ll write again soon. Goodnight. See you in the morning. I love you. Sweet dreams. 

Happy birthday. 

-Robert

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September 1, 2015 · 11:40 am

Dunkin Donuts


My love/hate relationship with Dunkin Donuts is well documented. It mirrors, in a way, my former relationship with Planet Fitness: I don’t really like your service or what you offer 100%, I don’t give you my full commitment, but you meet my basic day-to-day needs so I remain loyal for the most part.

I have far more negative experiences with Dunkin than positive ones, with the ratio falling somewhere around 5/2. For every two good experiences, I have five horrible ones, which usually result in one of the following things happening:

  1. I write the coffee off as bad immediately and discard it.
  2. My sandwich is made wrong (missing an ingredient, wrong bread type, not fully cooked) but I eat it anyway.
  3. My sandwich is made wrong (missing an ingredient, wrong bread type, not fully cooked) and I discard it.
  4. I wait so long for my order that I can finish a large coffee, sipped slowly, before my sandwich is made.
  5. I receive a “free donut” because a “higher-up” feels bad that I’ve been waiting so long.

Based on my experience yesterday morning, I finally decided that enough was enough, I had to vent about this establishment.
Every time I, or anyone for that matter, walks into a Dunkin Donuts and pays money for a product, we expect the product to be made our way, correct? My order yesterday couldn’t have been simpler: “Medium iced coffee, light and sweet, with liquid sugar please.” “Will that be all?” “Yes.” I received, after a literal 7 minute wait, a medium iced coffee with a splash of milk and no sugar whatsoever. So many things go through my head after a moment like this, and I’ll try to outline them all. I don’t mean to berate Dunkin Donuts employees, I really don’t, but your job is to make coffee and make sandwiches that involve no actual cooking skill and no meal prep or design. I feel compelled to do this, for their sake and mine, because every customer deserves a satisfactory experience.

My first problem with Dunkin Donuts is the number of employees on shift compared to the output in the place. Yesterday alone we had one person on cash register, one person tending to the drive-thru, one person making sandwiches, one person making coffees, and two people taking up space. Why do you have employees clogging up the back that are not contributing? Or perhaps they should be but they just aren’t? I guess that’s for “corporate” to decide. In any case, maybe the line wouldn’t be 12 people long with literally the first person in line being served and the other 11 waiting. Or in yesterday’s case, you wouldn’t have 4 of us standing at the sandwich area waiting for coffee and food because one person is making coffees and one person sandwiches. Common sense tells me, and should tell the two employees standing around, “Hey, one or both of them should make some of the coffees to get these people taken care of.” But I suppose browsing your cell phone or whispering to an employee who actually is working is far more important.

Next, I seriously question the “skill” of most of the employees. I’m telling you right now, hand me a cheap visor, apron, and custom name tag that reads “R*8” with some stickers on it, and I could make coffees exactly how they should be without any formal training. I’ve never worked in retail or in customer service, but I’ve been a cook at an Italian restaurant and I’m a business owner, plus I make my own coffee daily and let me tell you, I’m never disappointed.

Not only are the skills lacking, but the general ability to understand basic instructions is as well. As an employee of somewhere like this, your job is no simpler than this: Listen to what the customer asks for and provide them with exactly what they asked for, nothing more or less. If I ask for liquid sugar, why are you giving me granulated sugar? More importantly, anyone with any basic concept of chemistry knows that solids won’t dissolve in cold water very well, so why in the hell is granulated sugar in an iced coffee even an OPTION. You should offer liquid or melted sugar standard, without the customer even having to ask for it. I swear for every 10 times I ask for liquid sugar, except for when someone I know serves me, I get granulated 4-6 of those times. It’s amazing to me that something like that can happen.

When it comes to sandwiches, I always ask for croissants, I never change that. The reason I even like croissants is because Dunkin Donuts messed up an order of mine years ago. I asked for a bacon, egg, and cheese on a plain bagel and received the sandwich on a croissant. I liked the croissant so much that I always order them now, but you see my point. I’ve had sandwiches come out frozen all the way through the center. I’ve had the wrong bread, wrong meat, no cheese, even no egg once. It baffles me all the time, so much so that when I order from Dunkin now, I fully expect there to be something wrong. I purposely don’t order drinks with too much in them so that the order remains as simple as possible, thus reducing (in theory) the chance of a mistake. When placing my order, I’ll wait until the previous item was punched into the register before going onto the next thing for fear of them missing something or typing something that is wrong. It’s obvious that I shouldn’t have to do any of this.

Perhaps my dislike is towards most employees, because there are workers who know me and who make my coffee correctly 100% of the time, and I’m thankful for that. But should I really have to make sure I go into Dunkin when they are on shift? Should I be taking such advanced measures to ensure my order is correct? No, but it’s exactly what I do. As I’ve been writing, I decided “I’m going to send this complaint to Dunkin themselves and see what they say, if anything.”

You don’t need a 4 year degree to make coffee or toast a bagel and heat up an egg and meat and put them together, there shouldn’t be so many issues with my orders. And we are just talking about MY experiences. Dunkin serves probably millions a day, and I’m one person in Pleasant Valley, NY with these issues. Something tells me I’m not the only one.

In conclusion, my ultimate point is this: I don’t walk into Dunkin Donuts and pay my money as a charitable donation. I certainly don’t hand it to the cashier and give them carte blanche to make or serve me whatever they want. My money should directly translate to my order being 100% correct, every time, without an input or opinion from the person making it. I correct what I said before, you’re not MAKING coffee, you’re just pouring it and adding ingredients to it. Let’s try to make our relationship a better one, and if that isn’t possible, let me pay you and come behind the counter and make the coffee myself. If that isn’t possible either, I’ll just take my business on down the road, and you can serve one less person incorrectly.

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August 26, 2015 · 12:06 pm

New Year-Summer of 2015


Every year summer ends, but life goes on. I’ve always found reflection useful, and it helps me prepare for what’s ahead, but also allows me the ability to relive choice sections of history. This year is no different. Instead of my normal summer reflection, I want to compose my list dating back to the first of the year, because I’ve slacked on writing and want to cover more.

This list reflects decisions, observations, realizations, reactions, and general feelings. I usually go for 40, let’s see how far I can make it.

1. For the 26th consecutive year, I have been drug-free, cigarette-free, hospital visit/stay free, and STD free.

2. I haven’t consumed alcohol in 3 years.

3. I can locate the Big Dipper no matter where I am within a few minutes.

4. I’ve been in business for three years now, and still going.

5. I drove to the hospital on a cold winter morning not knowing what I would find, with nothing but thoughts of life without my brother rushing through my head.

6. Foo Fighters – Times Like These

7. I have not played a single inning of softball this year.

8. I filed the second lawsuit of my life. The case begins in September.

9. I got to see my children on Father’s Day weekend, I’m happy for that.

10. My glass is always half full.

11. Before you ask me about my lifestyle or feel like accusing me of something, look up the definition of “Straight-edge” then look at the back of my right arm. It’s a lifestyle choice, not a gimmick.

12. The gym remains my sanctuary.

13. I listened more than I spoke.

14. I created a flag football team and entered a brand new league, a very enjoyable experience.

15. I spent over 24 consecutive hours with my three closest male friends, something that hadn’t occurred in over 3 years. I would gladly go to war with any of those guys.

16. I cried for the first time in 3 years.

17. I’m so consumed with finding my own happiness, that I would never spend even one minute trying to take happiness away from anyone else. Everyone deserves it.

18. I made sun tea, was given a blue Gatorade, and fell in love.

19. I found a passion for baseball again.

20.

21. Clayton returned to New York and we drove 4 1/2 hours to a wedding and had a blast. I’ve only ever been to two weddings: both relatives of his and obviously both with him also attending.

22. I found Jim randomly in New Milford at 11:30 at night.

23. I hate admitting that sometimes I may need help. I always try to tackle my problems head-on by myself and try never to lean on others or make my problems theirs. Going against this and after much thought, I saw a therapist. I can’t say it was a bad decision.

24. I have been ridiculed all summer long because someone I knew started a 1 on 1 fight, lost that fight, and now whines that I didn’t help them.

25. Not every day is going to be a good day, but any day can be the best day.

26. My age. Clayton said to me this summer “Hey man you realize we will be 30 in a few years?!” I do realize that, but I feel great every day.

27. I’ll never be the biggest guy in the gym, or the smallest. But there is no one I would trade bodies with.

28. I cut my own hair for the 11th consecutive year.

29. I haven’t had soda in 10 years.

30. It will take more than a rumor-laced Instagram post with 33 likes, numerous comments, laughable physical threats, and undeserved gossip to ruin my mood, day, week, month, year, or life.

31. I haven’t done nearly as much fishing as I thought I would this year.

32. I’m not jealous of any human being on this planet.

33. I didn’t accomplish any of my life goals this year. I did, however, think of a few more.

34. I had a semi-long conversation in person with both the father and brother of an ex girlfriend at a jobsite. While our relationship didn’t necessarily go smoothly, it’s nice to know that people are above holding grudges. Life’s too short for foolishness.

35. I went to Atlantic City for reasons other than celebrating my birthday or my brothers.

36. I wake up every day and try to be the best person I can that day.

37. I don’t have a hard time looking in the mirror. No one is perfect, least of all me.

38. I mass deleted social media apps, phone numbers, friends, followers, etc.

39. I go to sleep every night and wake up every morning happy. It’s been a long time coming.

40. While I own a cell phone and use it daily, I could survive just fine without it.

41. People ask me almost weekly how I am in the shape that I am. My advice always starts with the same first line: Step 1 is showing up.

42. Other than those closest to me, I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.

43. No, I am not part owner of Under Armour.

44. It takes far less energy to be a good person than it does to be a horrible one.

40. After spending months and months working, going to the gym, and coming home to sit on my ass and sulk, someone finally kicked my door in and gave me an opportunity. I’ve always been afraid to walk out on the limb again, for fear of it breaking and being hurt. When the courage finally surfaced, I walked to the edge and learned to fly.

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April 8, 2015 · 11:04 pm

Death…Then What..?


Last Friday I went to the movies with my brother Ray and we saw “Furious 7.” We had seen the previous six movies, including the last two in theaters together, so it was only tradition to watch this one. Only this movie felt different, because you were watching someone act in the film that was no longer with us, that no longer breathed air on this Earth. Since that movie my mind has been racing, as it often does. I’ve been thinking about death.

I used to always be able to say that death had never really interfered with my life, and for years I was absolutely right. The only real close person to me that had passed away was Clayton’s uncle Dave, who I had worked with and I knew on a first name basis. I was sad, mainly for Clayton because they were close, but I was alright. My grandmother passing away changed this outlook for me, and it has largely remained the same since then.

I remember being young (between 5-10) and I would wake up in the morning before everyone else in my house and think about things. Sometimes, for really no reason, I would think about life without my grandma, and I would cry to myself. I never spoke of these moments to anyone, choosing to keep them to myself (like most things). When the news finally came of her passing, my first response, however, was not to cry. I felt like a gallon jug of water that someone had punctured on the bottom, the water slowly running out of the jug until it was empty. I felt extreme sadness, while also feeling nothing. I spoke of this in my previous post so I am not going to detail it here, but death has touched my life now.

I think about it often, is death truly the end for a person? I am not spiritual or religious, so I suppose I don’t believe in Reincarnation or Heaven, but I think about how cool it would be if such a place exists. Everyone tells people that they will “see them again” when they die, but will they? Or do they just say this because it is the norm? I would like to think I will see my grandma again one day, to have another deep conversation with her, but what if our time together ended when she passed away?

To think about death is also to think about life. Science says that during the creating of a person, there are millions of sperm cells, each with its own DNA makeup. I think about how I was the one in the millions. I think about how I’m me and if my parents had any other child, what would they be like? Would they have habits that I don’t? Would they be similar to me, maybe a copy? I guess I obviously have no way of knowing.

I think that a person is afforded, if they are lucky enough to remain healthy for that long, perhaps 70-90 years alive. I think about how I can improve myself physically every day, to prevent the breaking down that will inevitably occur and to prolong my life as long as possible. I joke that I’ll never die, and who knows, maybe I won’t. I’m 26 going on forever, maybe. I think about life without me, how others will conduct themselves if I’m no longer around. I think about all of the random people I have ever helped in life, whom I have only encountered once, and never again. The man who had run out of gas down the street from the gas station who I pulled over for and helped push his car into the station. The girl at Oswego whose ID card I found on the campus grounds and sought out to return it to. The people whose lives may have been saved with the blood that I donated. None of them will know when I pass away, and don’t even know my identity. Will I see them “down the road” and be able to discuss with them how our lives crossed paths, if only for a moment?

I have a tattoo on my forearm, designed by my best friend Jim, that depicts an hourglass. In the bottom section of the hourglass, the space is roughly 3/4 full with sand. The sand is pouring through the middle and the top section is about 7/8 full. Every tattoo I have has a deep meaning, I don’t believe in random tattooing and I don’t believe in displaying something on my body or in my life that holds no meaning. This hourglass says “There’s always time.” It may be translated in any way you see fit. I like to think it relates to everything in life. No matter how hard life gets, or how many times you’ve fallen, or hurt someone, or been hurt, there’s always time to improve your circumstances or make progress for the positive. In terms of this piece, there’s always time as long as you live, I suppose. Since I have no idea of knowing what happens after you take your last breath, I don’t know if there is time to do anything when you’re gone. But as long as you’re “here” on Earth, moves can be made.

Whether you’re given 90 years or 15, a long prosperous life or a short, difficult one, I believe you make it yours. I was in church once and the pastor said that your time on Earth was a pit stop, asking the audience, “What matters more, your 90 years on this Earth, or eternity with God?” I was offended, because what kind of question is that? To me, if you believe in religion, that’s perfectly alright, but I don’t. I try not to take anything for granted, because I want to make my “90” years worthwhile. I want to have lived a life that impacted at least one other life. If someone can look back on my life and say “Rob influenced somebody, he made an impact on their life while he lived” then I will go feeling accomplished.

I believe that there is a way to live forever. You do it through the people you lived with and shared life with. My grandma hasn’t died because I keep her alive through memory and story. So long as I’m alive, and others who hold her dearly, she can never leave. You die when you’re forgotten by everyone.

Paul Walker passing made me think about death, but also about life. His tribute made me see that he isn’t dead, only gone.

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