Once again, it’s you

Last night I reread the 2 posts I wrote for my folks birthdays last year, and honestly, cried. My own words made me sit back and think about how terribly I miss them. Distance and time definitely has that impact on me personally, and I’m sure there are many others who are in that same boat. As I read through what I had written, I reminded myself of lessons learned from them over the years, life lessons that needed to be reminded. I am a creature of habit, often times face down in whatever seems to be important to me at the time, rarely looking up or looking back. I have one speed, go, proceeding without caution, full of hopes and dreams. This speed has landed me some wins and losses over the years, which I’d love to convince myself is more on the winning side than the losing but I’d be lying. The truth is, I love and hate  when my birthday comes around.
Love: I’m overwhelmed by the amount of love I receive from the greatest extended family a kid like me could ever wish for, whether it’s on Facebook or Twitter, texts, phone calls and cards. It’s a lot to take in and I appreciate every last one of those contacts. It’s a reminder of who exactly I’ve crossed paths with in this short time I’ve spent living life, and reminds me of all the things we’ve done together. It pretty amazing to be honest, and when I think back I’m blown away that most of us are still alive to tell the tales. (Take a second to remember those of our family that aren’t here today, please) For the little amount of time I’ve spent wandering through this life, the sheer volume of time I’ve spent laughing, crying, hugging, dancing, singing, playing, reading, sharing, eating, drinking, wakeboarding, snowboarding, skating, riding, loving with each of you is nothing but overwhelming. I can’t believe I’ve been so blessed to have all of you in my life.

Also, being that 34 years ago I was born this day, 2 years later, on this same day, at the exact same time, 8:06 am, the world, and I, was blessed with my kid brother. He’s been the biggest pain in the ass for 32 years of my life. Always there like a little brother is supposed to be, allowing me to put him in harms way, listening to my every word as if it were gospel. Of course, that only lasted until he was about 5 or 6, and he finally learned better. He used to tell me, “Someday, I’m gonna be bigger than you and I will kick your ass”. I would laugh it off like any big brother should, and suddenly one day, he was. And although we never came down to blows, we had our moments, like brothers do, but I believed he probably could have kicked my ass, and that just couldn’t  happen, little brother beating up big brother. Not in my lifetime. Honestly though, we had a pretty rocky relationship through our teen years, neither one of us ever wanting to give up ground to the other. We both played hard and spoke hard to one another. I don’t think it was until I left for college that I really understood how awesome it was having my brother as my brother. He’s probably one of the most talented people I’ve ever been fortunate enough to know, let alone be related to, and there’s not a moment in my entire life that I haven’t been proud of him. Sincerely, my life is astronomically better because he has been consistent in my life; my true partner in crime, my favorite wingman, my biggest fan, my kid brother. Happy birthday scooter. And never forget who your biggest fan is, cause I will kick your ass if you do.

Hate: There is a part of me that digs in and reminds me of how many failures I’ve really had. This year reminds of 34 years worth of them, and hell, there’s a lot. A lot more than I really want to spend time describing or listing out. Enough however, that I’m beyond humbled most days when I’d rather just smile and shrug it off. Often times I catch myself in the middle of venting all of the things that bother me that even I don’t want to hear it. It only further proves how blessed I am to have the friends and people in my life that I do. I doubt if anyone else consistently verbalized all of the failing hopes and irritations like I do, that they would have many people, if any left to pick them up. Me being me however, I can’t stay away from these thoughts. Really, I don’t want to. They are the part of me that brings me back to reality from the cloud of dreams I often day dream inside of. They are the pain that brings beauty to words and music. The are the darkest parts of me that provide me fuel to be better, grow taller, and be a better man. So again, there’s love and hate inside of that “Hate my birthday” thinking.

Not that I want to walk away from this post on a negative, and maybe it’s really not, I beg your pardon for doing so. I can feel myself rambling and in order for me to get out of my office in time to enjoy the Sounders beating up on DC Untied this afternoon, I must get some actual real work done.

Stay Blessed-

…And because of you, I’m me

Next to my grandmother, my mom is one of the toughest women I know. Not tough in the sense that she was tough on me, she’s always been a push over when I cried or begged enough for that toy as a child, but tough in the sense that life was never easy or simple on her. She grew up in essentially a single parent home, losing her father at the age of 6 to a heart attack. My grandmother never remarried, and worked multiple jobs to ensure her family was taken care of, all three of the children. My parents did the exact same thing for their three children, always working as many jobs as they could to ensure we had everything we needed, even when it wasn’t necessary, but desired by one or all of us. I don’t remember my mom ever really saying no to anything I ever asked for that was reasonable, even possibly the unreasonable, but in this moment, I can’t think of any unreasonable request this angel ever asked for. There were times, once on our way to preschool, where I uncovered a bag from K-Mart, whose contents included a brand new He-Man figure that was on my 5 year old wish list. Back in those days, kids didn’t sit in car seats past a certain age, and I was at that age where I was free to roam around the back of my parents Subaru wagon while she drove down the road. She thought she had done a great job of hiding the bag, but as all kids can confess, if it’s in the area, we’ll find it. And on this day, I was Sherlock Holmes, unearthing the bag from deep in the back seat of the yellow wood paneled Subaru. Immediately upon seeing the shiny new figure, I couldn’t conceal my excitement and began questioning my mom as to it’s mysterious presence in the car. She replied as calmly as she could that it was for my cousin, for his birthday, and that I needed to put it back. I pressed, I really wanted it. She must have explained the story 3 or 4 more times before I let the tears fly. My mom, being the softy that she is, gave in, let me have it. I ripped that packaging open just in time to arrive at preschool, where I had to leave my new toy in the car for the day. Maybe she held out just long enough to allow me the opportunity to open it in time to have to put it down on purpose, to teach me a lesson, or maybe it just worked out that way. It would be years later when I recounted the story to her that she admitted that the He-Man really was for me, but for Christmas, which was a few months away. My mom has always been amazing at preplanning things like Christmas gifts, starting months early in order to ensure she had enough money to get everything she had in mind for her kids. Often times, it took months, my folks were never wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. My mom wanted to make sure that her kids had everything they wanted (within reason) on Christmas morning. It’s probably the reason I go crazy with gifts at Christmas and birthdays, getting to see the faces light up when that package finally gets unwrapped. She loves it, and it’s the same reason she let the 5 year old me open that He-Man figure that day. She never wanted her children to hurt and if she had a way to stop that hurting, she’d do it.

When I left for college at 18, my mom was there in the drive way as my dad and I filled up the bed of my pick up with my things, doing what she’s always done when one of her kids was leaving, cry. She pretended to smile as she was excited for my new adventure, but the tears always told the story. Even to this day, 15 years later, she stills cries every time I leave or drop her off at the airport to go home. I’m her first, the baby, and I love that she still misses me everyday, as much as I miss her. She’s always been a protector, even when I didn’t need protecting or want protecting. Anytime she saw me hurt, I know she hurt too. I put her through hell growing up, rarely a time when an emergency room visit wasn’t a half pipe session away, or some girl wasn’t getting busy breaking my heart. Through all of the pains of adolescents, my mom was right there to help me through it. Always calm, always present. I can’t remember a single time where she wasn’t in the stands or on the sidelines at a game, or rushing home from work to make sure I had a ride to practice. Never a time where I needed to be rushed to the hospital for x-rays where she wasn’t the first responder. I always knew that no matter what was wrong, my mom would be there in a heartbeat, and it instilled in me, that same response to everything that goes wrong for someone in my universe. I’ve always known that there was no way I could ever repay the sacrifices my parents made for me and my brother and sister. I’ve just tried to be an example of the man they have raised me to be. Sure, I’ve fallen short plenty of times, I’m human, I make mistakes. But the underlying desire to treat everyone as well as I wanted to be treated came from them. There are plenty of people in the world that can quote me saying things like “you can thank my mom for that” or “my mom would kick my ass if I didn’t” in response to opening a door for someone. Every girlfriend I’ve ever had knows that my mom raised me to respect women and take care of them, as if she was ever present. It’s the things I learned from my mom, and watching my dad with her, that taught me a lot about how to treat other people. Respect and cooperation, partnership and never giving up, regardless of how tough things were.

To my mom I say, thank you, thank you for helping guide me to being the man I am today. I only hope I can continue to be as strong as you have been your entire life. Happy Birthday! I love you

Stay Blessed-

If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be me…

I just finished reading the 1st chapter of the Artie Lange book, “Too Fat to Fish” on my recent step into the wonderful world of the iPad. It’s an easy read so far and the first pages I read are dedicated to his father and how he shaped the person he became. Today is my dad’s birthday, an amazing father, an inspirational man who’s hard work has never gone unnoticed, and cemented in me a desire to never quit. Possibly to my own detriment at times, but has created in me, a man who isn’t afraid of earning through hard work and thick skin. For as long as I can remember, my dad has killed himself to provide his family every opportunity that they could dream. Always working 12-14 hour days, sometimes at multiple places, and then coming home to mow the lawn and do yard work, or fix a basketball hoop my brother and I tore down while screwing around earlier in the day. Or straight from a hard day of building houses turn a quick shower and then rush me off to baseball practice, where he was also a coach. He wasn’t the easiest coach I ever played for, but he was always the fairest and held me to a standard above all others. It was this man who instilled one of the most important life lessons in me during an all star tournament when I was 14 or 15. We were playing a double headed in this tournament, back to back games in the raging 100 degree heat of Southern Idaho summer. We’d just lost 3-1 in a tough heartbreaking battle and no one seemed poised for a second game. I’d had a passed ball behind the plate that led to the go ahead run, and our eventual loss. While everyone was hustling to find shade for the players to cool down in and get us all hydrated, he looked me in the eyes and told me “you know physical mistakes are ok, it’s the mental mistakes that are not acceptable. Shake it off and go win this next one.” I went 3-4 with 2 RBI’s that next game and we won 7-1. It’s a lesson I’ve carried through every aspect of my life since, whether it be on a ball field or in business. It’s the ability to accept that we will make mistakes and we will fall short if we depend on the physical skill.

I’ve known for a long time that it’s my ability to win the mental game when going head to head with any challenge. I was never the tallest, strongest, smartest kid, or adult, but heart is something else my father taught me, or rather, instilled in me. It was his perseverance, his relentless ability to keep going when the cards were down and things looked bleak, to provide for his family. Of course, he never did any of this alone, he had (and still has) the best wing man he could have along his side in my mother. Not to take anything away from her in who I am, but it’s his birthday today, which means I’ll have lots of expanding to do next month on her birthday. It was their partnership that taught all three of their children that family is more important than anything you can buy, anywhere you can travel, any win. Family is the hub that makes life’s successes and failures mean something. No matter what they were going through, they did it together, for the family, for me and my brother and sister. I have watched my father go through loss after loss of friends, jobs, family, NBA championships, and never once did he throw his hands up, despite every reason to say screw it. He’s just not built that way, and either am I. It’s because of him, that I am who I am today. The same passion in life to provide, to take care of, to fix. I am a fixer because my dad is a fixer. We may not be awesome at it all the time, but there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to make everything whole, every time. I think it takes a lot of heart to take the kind of beatings he’s taken, from early childhood, to bullshit bosses and company politics he refused to play a part in. He never waivered his character, he never shied away from responsibility, he never quit being the greatest father I could have been blessed with. I know he made it a goal to be better than his father was, and always wanted his children to be an even better parent than he was. Somehow, in the three years since my son was born, I keep trying to figure out how I could ever exceed that bar that he set for me. I don’t know if it’s possible, but if you ask him today, he’ll tell you I will find a way, because where there’s a will, there’s a way.

When I graduated high school, he gave me a card that I keep close to this day, 15 years later. It was simple, poignant, and again, life changing. I know it’s been seen by many over the years, and I’m not quite sure who the quote came from, but in my eyes, the words are his. “May you have enough success to keep you eager but enough failure to keep you humble.” Anyone that knows the real me, knows that I love without caution, hurt like I’m dying, and live like there’s no tomorrow. Thank you pops, for being the man to me that I will always hope to become. I love you. Happy birthday old man

Stay Blessed-

With Clear Eyes and a Full Heart

I’m sitting in a little room with some bossy testers this morning, asking for help on nearly every script they run. I’m doing my best to avoid rolling my eyes or sighing deeply with every question. It’s been fairly uneventful to say the least. All the while, I’ve kept my headphones on with Hailey Williams belting out Paramore song after song. I think I’ve fallen for her voice as my new guilty pleasure. I’ve hardly heard the lyrics, but loving each and every second of this teenage temper tantrum.

It definitely beats my mood around all of the debate regarding the proposed site of a Mosque being built near Ground Zero in New York. New polls hitting the news services this morning show upwards of 70% of people polled in NYC are opposed to it, mainly because of the religious faith of the terrorist cowards that attacked the World Trade Center in 2001. I have to say that I’m appalled at the reactions of Americans opposing a building being erected, since that is all it is, a building. What takes place inside of that building has nothing to do with the acts of a few religious zealot nutbags on September 11th, except that they share the same religious beliefs as the people who seek to build a Mosque. It’s now also a political position as senate and mayoral races are in play in New York, polls are actually showing results of popularity based on a candidates position on the building and it’s location, ridiculous. There’s also the constitutionality argument, which some of these same pollers are all in favor of ignoring for the purpose of refusing to allow this build to happen. Hypocrites I tell you! We, Americans, are in this country because those that came before us, needed to escape religious persecution. It wasn’t business, it wasn’t mans need to conquer, it was to have the freedom to pray as we wanted, to live in a world where religion was allowed to each man and woman. The men who drafted the constitution knew this as well and ensured that religious persecution would not be allowed in this, our America. Now that someone’s feelings are being hurt with a reminder of tragic events with the placement of a building, they are willing to start tearing out pieces of the constitution to fit their needs. It’s a sad day in America folks. I understand the tragedy of events on 9/11, I understand loss and sadness and the anger that comes along. I know what it’s like to be reminded of tragedy and it never gets easier, the sadness and anger stay. Perpetuating that anger and hatred based on someone’s religious beliefs and where they meet doesn’t fix anything. In this entitlement world we’ve built for ourselves, we’ve moved beyond the constitution and it’s inherent rights, we’re tweaking them to fit our needs, and now persecuting others for the same reasons our forefathers left Europe. We’re finding people guilty by association, and not even physical association, but worse and a larger stretch, religious. I’m saddened, I truly am. As a parent who teaches tolerance and acceptance, equality and forgiveness, my son is growing up in a world that I’m starting to no longer recognize. The racial and religious climate has gotten so heated in the past 18 months, that I cannot believe there was ever a time when reasonable people were at the same table to abolish slavery, draft equal rights legislation and even allow women to vote. I’m perplexed by the thousands of openly hateful and racist  comments I read in daily articles within the online  news resources, not able to understand where these people come from, and how they’ve successfully been able to live in this world with so much bigotry and hatred in their lives. It just doesn’t make sense to me. RARR

That’s my rant for today, and I honestly don’t care if anyone disagrees with me. Maybe if you do, don’t tell me.

Stay blessed-

God Willin’

It’s a decent Tuesday morning, although I was up all night with my brain in hyper drive. The weather has been exceptional now for going on 5 days straight and looks to be sticking around for awhile. With exceptional Seattle weather comes heat and it’s the type of heat that fills our air conditioning free homes and sticks around through the wee hours of the morning. Not that I’m complaining, how can I, I love hot weather. My ability to sleep in my own bed through said heat spell isn’t as up to speed as my desire is to keep the heat around. So, the past two nights have been tough from a climate perspective, but the last 4 nights have also included excessive brain function suppressing my 6 hour sleep limitation for functional human interaction. This isn’t anything new if you’ve been reading this rag for awhile, I’ve always been overtly aware of my thoughts, especially right before bed. I used to have a deal worked out where there was to be no serious conversation right before bed. I think I need to reinstate that rule internally again.

I’ve snagged a bunch of (new) music in the past couple of weeks and have yet to be disappointed in any of the selections. I’m fairly impulsive when it comes to buying music, someone tells me I’ll like something, I take their word for it, an article calls something a must listen and it’s not in the pop charts, I’m all over it. I am a consumption addict of music, I can never get enough. In the past 3 weeks, these are my top 5 (in no particular order):
1. Dangermau5- “For Lack of a Better Name”
2. Rusko- “O.M.G.!” Dubstep and down tempo stuff, crazy all over the place, need big subs to be heard
3. K-OS- “The Anchorman Mixtape” free DL @http://tour-tv.com/mixtape/
4. Ray Lamantagne- “God Willin and The Creek Don’t Rise” Ray never misses a beat!
5. Avenged Sevenfold- “Nightmare” Awesome from start to finish!

All of them are daily play worthy, grab ‘em immediately!

I hit 90 tweets today, sounds so weird. I never really got the whole twitter thing, but outside influences have pushed me into using the thing. Stuck at 17 followers, need me some more so I don’t feel so ignored in the twitterverse… I didn’t just create a new term, did I? I’m still learning the whole # hash mark and @people thing but hey, it’s the first time I haven’t been an early adopter of something techy/social right? I mean, I was blogging before it was even know as such. I think back then it was still an online journal

Oh well, not a whole lot of inspiring crud falling from my fingers today, sorry folks. I think the restlessness is catching up with me and I may just need some decent sleep tonight to get back to spreading my wisdom… oh, and don’t forget to follow my tweets, hahaha! twitter.com/problemchildry

Stay blessed and enjoy the new tunes!

Repost the Past

I wrote this about four years ago, and rereading it this morning, was a stark reminder that I needed. Maybe you do too, it’s all about changing the mindset sometimes.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

One Year has Past

"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same" -Anonymous
I started writing about this 40 some odd weeks ago, knowing that no matter what I did, no matter what I tried to do, it would still be on my mind, pouring out of my fingers, running out of my eyes. I knew that I had hit a moment in my life that would forever be remembered. You know there are so many things in this world that mean very little and somehow we as people get so caught up in them. We can talk trash about anyone, argue about the smallest things, say hurtful things in the heat of the moment and for what? What does it all matter in the end?
I've been worrying about that a lot lately, "the end". I know in the last year I've written a few things a long those lines and maybe it's just my internal clock ticking a little louder each year, but I've honestly finally realized how precious this time is that I have. It took losing my closest friend to understand how much I've been afforded in this life of mine. Why do I spend time bitching and moaning about this and that? Why don't I take moments every day to just smell the air, feel the ever present NW Weather on my face? Why not just drive somewhere new, accidentally misses a turn and just go for awhile. Roll the windows down in the cold and just be thankful I'm here?

I've had a year to think about a lot of things and my words of wisdom are as follows:
- If you think it might hurt, do it. There is no reward sweeter than the one thing you risked everything for.
- There is nothing more important than your family and friends. Do your best to repay their support by being better to everyone else in your life.
- There is no shame in asking for help, there is always someone ready to listen. I've always got an ear if you need it. It's cheaper than what I pay my therapist.
- Don't be afraid to cry, it just feels better to let it out. Even I do it
- Let music into your heart and lead your soul, be open to anything, you may find beauty in the strangest of melodies.
- Love bigger than you ever have
- Never ever give in to the darkness
One of the many things I learned from Pat is one of the simplest thoughts that we all ignore far too often, "be sure to try something new every day. You never know when your last day will come." I pray that I have plenty of days to come, I still have a lot of things to do. Make sure you don't waste this time either, go do something. Go snow shoeing, skydiving, bungee jumping. Do something this weekend that you said you'd never do, that you were afraid to try. Remember, pain is temporary, glory is forever. I don't want to die wondering what if, so I'm going to do my damndest not to.

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus

Posted by Ryan Scott at 1:20 PM

Internet Tough Guys

I miss my daily train ride into the city. Weird for me to think I’d miss having a vehicle at any point to just grab my shit and go at a moments notice. Maybe what it is I miss, is the 35 minutes of sitting down without having to be in control of the destination, where I had a few minutes here and there to write down my thoughts, read the news before getting into the office, or just shut my eyes for an extra precious moments in the morning, or the evening.

I think I could have skipped reading most of the news this morning, or more so, the comments that people leave on news stories. The internet has been an amazing tool for sharing information, and allowing people to have the latest news inside of seconds of it happening. Unfortunately, it’s also allowed for thousands of people at a moments notice, to unleash commentary or opinion, regardless of it’s content. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I cannot believe how many racists exist still in this modern age we live in. I am astonished by the narrow minded, intolerant, and uneducated responses I read. So much so, that I get physically sick thinking that these same people could be the guy sitting in the corner of the 17th floor outside of my office, or the director of the daycare my son spends each and every weekday at, or even you. I’m smart enough to know the character of my friends well enough that I would not suspect any of you to be these same arrogant hate monger internet tough guys spewing nonsense across every news story surrounding our President or the economy. It’s appalling though, and it scares me to know that this is really the “voice” of our country on display for the entire world to read. It also frightens me to think that my son is going to grow up in a world like this, it’s crazy. I never thought it would get worse than it was in the 40’s and 50’s, and somehow, it’s seems that every day, another racist is spewing hate on the news stories within the world of the AP and Yahoo. I am saddened to be sure. We all should be. I’m not quite sure what else to do about this, I get caught up in commenting on these comments, a written argument, that only fuels further hate, with back and forth comments, lots of thumbs down, etc. Arggg,, it’s so frustrating… I think I’ll stop reading the comments section for now…

New music on the iPhone (4):
- Rebelution ‘Bright Side of Life’ Awesome, awesome awesome! A heavy mix of roots reggae meets Sublime with the poetic lyrics of a soul man. I’m digging this album, it’s perfect summer boat music to chill to
- 3Oh!3 ‘Streets of Gold’ I’m not normally into this kind of “poppy club house rock” thing but once in awhile, I guess it’s ok… Don’t shoot the messenger, you’ll either laugh at the witty lines or puke all over it’s nonsense.
- Marco Polo ‘The Stupendous Adventures of Marco Polo’ Hip Hop has been missing ODB and raw Wu Tang for sometime. Seems like most “Hip Hop” albums these days sound a lot like Kanye West running out of ideas for beats, over produced and not original. This Marco Polo album is definitely not that. It’s got a lot of raw old school feeling and some new school progressive beats. You’ll either love it or hate it, it’s not for everyone. I just happen to be into it.

I’m heading to Orange County for the weekend, which is sure to be over too fast, but the optimist in me is going to rock out like I’m 20 again and enjoy every last freekin second of the trip. No fun sponges this weekend, pura vida and livin’ fast… Stoked to see those of you in the OC and won’t think twice about making a fool out of myself, we only live once.

Stay blessed

Tinkered

I haven’t written in a long time. I’ve  just have been busier in the past few months than I can remember being in a very long time. There’s a weird discomfort that’s come over me today that has compelled me to sit down for a few moments and just compose something. I cannot get my arms around it, this feeling of impending gloom or sadness. I don’t know what’s driving it or possibly digging it up. I’ve been stoked on things in life for a while now, haven’t been feeling that depression or anxiousness that pushes me into my shell. I’m a little concerned that maybe, I’ve been ignoring the things that used to eat at me, remaining blind to the parts of life that hurt, and maybe I’ve just haven’t been as happy as I thought I was. That scares me. I don’t think so, I don’t feel as though I’ve been lying to myself about being stoked on me. I don’t tell myself stories and build up my own ego for the sake of getting through the days, that’s just not me, not anymore. Not in a long time. If you’ve read my words over the years, you know intimately that I have no problem sharing my shortcomings, my weaknesses, my fears and feelings. You know that I am proud, yet humbled, and I’m human, hurt like anyone else, I just share it with perfect strangers.For the last 4 or 5 months, I’ve been beyond it; beyond feelings of self doubt, beyond creating explosive situations that bring me to tears. I put aside those insecurities, those things that cause me hurt and suffering, at my own hands, and moved forward.

I haven’t cried in a long time, yet, I haven’t had any pain in which to bring about the tears. Things have been exceptional; work, life, family and friends. As much as work can be exceptional, maybe more so, busy and chaotic and challenging. Food for my professional soul. I’ve spent time travelling for business, seeing friends out of state, going to sporting events, all thanks to work. Not entirely a bad gig! My life outside of work has been enriched by great friends, an amazing child and the satisfaction of being able to provide. I’ve seen my family, some I hadn’t seen in 5 years, and spent time at breakfast and a wedding in the past month. Oh wait, I did cry. At my cousins wedding reception, near the cake, was a picture of my grandmother, along with others passed, as a “wish you were here” shrine of sorts. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn’t hold back how much I still miss her. It reminded me why I hadn’t seen “Aunt Mary” or “Uncle Jim” in 5 years. The last time I had seen them was at her funeral, a hard reminder to say the least. There was some comfort in hugging “Aunt Mary”, she’s my grandma’s sister, and hugging her reminded me so much of hugging Grandma. It was nice. Wrote some new tunes with kid brother that hopefully he can polish into something more than a horribly sung scratch track, it makes me miss living in the same house.

I’ve spent some decent time with friends, never as much as I’d like, definitely not as much as it used to be, but some decent time. We’ve tinkered on my motorcycle, watched movies, shared meals and beverages, laughed ourselves silly, hugged and held on tight.

the awesomeness abounds, and yet…

I started writing this a few hours ago and reading through the words here, I’m already feeling lighter from my memory flashback moment, just wish it was a pinpoint reason for this feeling…