Tag Archives: family

Connections

Charlie had a window in his office.  He noticed the snow falling and thought that he would give it an hour and see if it stopped.  By the three hour mark, it still hadn’t.  He was a small man, bald and potbellied.  He rose out of his chair and into the small hallway of his office into the main area of his store.  

His store was fragrant and beautiful.  It sold scented candles of all kind.  The walls were a light pink and the carpet was a deep blue.  Gentle music was playing over the speakers.  There was artwork made by his wife and children on the wall, framed of course.  His two employees, Riley and Caroline, didn’t stop working.    

“Riley, Caroline,” he said and they turned their heads to look at him.  “I don’t want to drive home in this shit and if I don’t want to do it, I don’t feel like you should have to do it either.  Go home for the day.  You’ll get paid for the rest of the day.”

“Thanks, boss,” Riley said.

“I don’t drive in,” Caroline said. 

“Well, you deserve a day off either way.  Get out of here,” Charlie said.  “I’ll close up.  Riley, I’m sorry that I didn’t do this earlier.  You have much farther than I have to go.”

“Don’t worry about it, boss.”

“Get going and I would appreciate a text that you got home safe.”

“Will do, boss.”

“You can call me, Charlie.”

“You got it, boss.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and went to the cash register to start cashing it out.  Riley and Caroline went into the employee area and gathered their things.  They walked out into the parking lot of the strip mall.  Caroline helped him clean off his car and then Charlie’s.  

“Do you need a ride home?” Riley asked Caroline.

“I’m good,” Caroline said.  “Safe travels.”

Riley gave her a two finger salute and got into his car.  He pulled out slowly as Charlie came through the door.  Charlie waved at him and got into his car.  Riley started home going slowly.  It normally took him about thirty minutes on the back roads but this would be probably around forty to fifty.  But as his father always said, go slow in snow, get home in one go.  He thought that his dad was really trying to push for that rhyme.  

Thinking about his dad’s words made him think about Charlie.  His dad liked Charlie and told him to respect the man.  Riley did respect him and it was the reason that he called him boss.  He was the boss.  He was a man of honor and dignity.  He stood up for his employees when the shittier customers gave them the stick.  

His wife was beautiful, tall and willowy.  She had modeled in her youth and had only stopped when she found something else that interested in her.  One of Riley’s coworkers had decided to make a pass at her because he thought that he was God’s gift to women.  Charlie’s wife laughed in his face.  She called her husband and told him what had happened.  Charlie had laughed as well.  They kept laughing until the coworker quit in tears.  

The store was a pet project of Charlie who three loves in his lives.  His wife and children and in a far second, candles.  He made most of them himself.  It’s what kept bringing people back.  He paid Riley enough that he didn’t need a second job.  He gave them health insurance.  At times he felt like he was wasting his life but why break up a good thing?  

The areas outside of the strip mall was mostly farmland.  He kept driving, watching horses wander back into their stable.  There was no one on the road.  It was only eleven a.m.  He thought about the people in their office buildings that stupidly didn’t work for Charlie.  The roads were already starting to get bad.  It would be miserable later that night.   

He got to an intersection with a four way stop.  A man was walking down the street and came to the stop sign.  Riley figured that he could let the man go.  It was worse walking through this than driving.  He thought that up until the man slip and fell.  It was a particularly nasty fall, the man was on his legs and then they went to their left and he hit the ground.  

The man got up but then fell once more.  He then just kind of laid down.  Riley thought driving away but then he wondered when someone would come along.  He thought about it for a few seconds and then put his car in park.

He went to the man.  

“Hello there,” he said.  “Do you need some help?”

“I’m fine, my arm just hurts a little bit,” the man said.

“Can I help you up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Please, sir.”

The man relented and Riley helped him to his feet.  The two of them walked over to Riley’s car.  The man pulled back his hood.  He was old with a well kept beard and whitening hair.  He was wearing a large windbreaker coat.  

“Thank you,” the man said.

“No problem,” Riley said.  “The name’s Riley.  What’s yours?”

“Morgan.”

“Good to meet you, Morgan.  Can I take you somewhere to get checked out?”

“I’m fine.”

“You said your arm hurt and not to be a little ageist, you’re older.  I’m worrying you…”
“I’m not having a heart attack.  I had one of those and I know it’s not that.”

“Sir, please.  The urgent care is just up the road and I’ll take you home.”

“Fine.”

The two of them drove into the snow.  They got to the other strip mall and Riley helped Morgan out of the car.  He shook him off but was still holding his arm.  The urgent care was thankfully open.  A young Indian woman in scrubs was sitting at the front desk.

“Wow, I was just about to leave.  That is providence,” she said.  “How can I help you?”

“This man is having arm pains and he fell out in the snow,” Riley said.

“Are you…” 

“I’m not having a heart attack!” Morgan growled.  

“Fine, fine.  Come in the back, let me check you out.  Would you like your son to come with you?” the doctor asked. 

“He’s not my son,” Morgan said.

“Just a good Samaritan,” Riley added.

“Let’s get you checked out, I’m doctor Indara Patel.”

“You can go, Riley,” Morgan said.  

“I’ll wait.  Gotta make sure you get home or I’ll worry,” Riley said flopping into a chair.  

Riley pulled out his phone and texted his boyfriend.  It was starting to get serious but he still hadn’t met his family.  His name was Keith and he was really getting into with him.  

Riley: Hey, I think that we should cancel tonight.  The snow is really bad.  

Keith: Yeah, I think that’s best.

Riley walked back out to his car and got a book from his bag.  He started reading and made it through a fair amount of his book before Morgan came out wearing a sling.  He seemed unhappy.  

“His arm is broken, I’ve given him some pain medication and an order to take it easy,” Dr. Patel said to Riley.  

“Got it,” Riley said as if that meant anything to him.

“Thank you, miss,” Morgan said sincerely.

“No problem.  I can close up shop with a sound heart,” she said.  “You boys get home safe.”

Riley lead Morgan out to the car and opened the door for him.  He asked Morgan his address and Morgan told him.  He noticed that Morgan stopped and looked at the pride bumper sticker on the back of his car and hesitated for a moment.  He climbed in and Riley started putting the address into his GPS.  

“Do you have a charging cable?  My phone’s dead.  I have to let my son know what’s going on,” Morgan said. 

“Yeah, here,” Riley said and handed it to him.

“Thanks.”

They drove in silence for about three blocks. 

“I know what that sticker on the back of your car means,” Morgan said.

“Oh, do you want me to let you out?” Riley asked.

“No, it’s fine.  My son’s gay.”

“And you’re cool with it?”

“I don’t fully get it but I don’t have to.  He’s happy and I love him.  I call that a win.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“How did your parents take it?”

“My dad gave my mom a twenty when I came out.  They were accepting after that.”

“Ha, he sounds fun.”

“Hm.”

They lapsed into silence.  

“My son brought me to one of those parades one year.  Told me to wear a ‘Free Dad Hugs’ shirts.  So many of them came up to me.  They wept.  They cried in my arms.  I’ve never been more furious in my life.  What poor excuse for a parent lets their child think they don’t care about them?  For that?  Idiots,” Morgan said.  

“Testify,” Riley added.

“My son’s mother didn’t accept him.  It was the one thing bad about her.  I still miss her.  I wish she could have gotten around it.  She missed a lot of good times with him.”

“Hm.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m dating a great guy.”

“Good.  You’re a good person, helping someone you don’t know.”

“I couldn’t leave you.  It’d be horrible.  I’d be like one of those parents.”

“Exactly.”

Riley drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and then told Siri to play some Johnny Cash.  Morgan nodded approvingly.  

“My phone has a bit of a charge, I’m going to call my son,” Morgan said.

“Go ahead,” Riley said.

Morgan put the phone to his ear.  The son on the other end picked up immediately.  Riley only heard one side of the conversation and it went like this: 

“Hello?  Yeah, I’m fine.  I just had a bit of a slip.  My arm is busted.  I’ll be fine.  I was out walking.  A nice young man picked me up.  Took me to the urgent care.  Nice doctor.  Said she ask for his number but turns out he’s gay.  Yeah, yeah.  He’s going to take me home.  Should be about thirty minutes.  You don’t have to do that.  I can manage.  Fine.  I’ll see you in a bit.  I love you.  See you soon.”

He hung up the phone. 

“My son is going to meet us at my house,” Morgan said.  

“Good, I’ll know when he gets near.  Using my gaydar.  We don’t tell you that’s what it’s actually for.  Identifying when we’re near to each other.  Straight people don’t actually have it,” Riley said.

Morgan let out a coughing laugh.  Riley noticed his phone was buzzing.  He saw it was Keith.  He answered it on speaker phone.  

“Hello?” Riley asked.  

“Hey!” Keith said. 
    Morgan looked down at the phone. 

“My dad fell when he was out walking, I’m heading over to his house.  He broke his arm,” Keith gasped.

“That sucks,” Riley said.

“Yeah, some guy is driving him home.  I’d kiss him, if I wasn’t already dating you,” Keith said.  

Riley glanced at Morgan, a smile spreading across his face.  

“I mean, you can kiss him if you want.  He’s doing something really nice,” Riley said chuckling a little bit.  

“He is,” Keith said.  “Why did he need to go for a walk!  I would have brought him anything he needed.  Ugh, I love him but he’s so stubborn sometimes.”

Morgan looked at the phone and raised an eyebrow.  Riley realized that he was walking a tightrope walk.  

“Let’s not be too harsh on him.  Everything you told me about him shows that he’s a good guy,” Riley said quickly.  

“He is, he’s the best man I know.  He’s my hero.  He just needs to know that sometimes he shouldn’t go out in a blizzard,” Keith said.

Morgan nodded his head back and forth seemingly agreeing.  

“You know you never told me your dad’s name.  What is it?” Riley said.

“Morgan,” Keith said.

“Cool name.”

“It is.  Alright, I have to pay attention to the road.  I’ll see you later. I might have to stay over his house a few times to make sure that he’s okay.”

“Hey, do what you have to do.  No worries on my end.”

“Okay great.  I’ll see you when I can.”

“See you.”

Keith hung up and Morgan and Riley started laughing.  

“I thought I wasn’t going to make it through that,” Morgan said wiping at his eyes.  

“That was so funny,” Riley said.  

They came to a stop at a stoplight.  Morgan turned in his seat.  

“Nice to meet you,” he said and offered his hand.

“An absolute pleasure to meet you, sir,” Riley said.

“Call me Morgan.”

“Now that you’ve asked, I will.”

“Do you want to stay at my house when Keith gets there?”

“That would be great.  How funny would it be if when he comes through the door, I just come out of the kitchen or something.”

“That’d be great.”

They got to Morgan’s house and Riley helped him into the house.  The two of them sat playing chess and drinking cocoa while they waited.  Morgan was much friendlier now and was sharing stories about Keith.  It was timing perfection where Riley was getting them more cocoa and he heard the door open.  

The look on Keith’s face when he walked into the living room with three cups of cocoa was one that Riley would hold onto for the rest of his life.  During their wedding years later, Morgan would tell this story again with tears in his eyes.  He would toast the man that was a stranger and now he called son.  

I Can Be Dumb Sometimes

I used to work in a long term pharmacy and that meant that sometimes we had to work the major holidays, Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Year’s. My first year with them, Thanksgiving was coming up and we had to choose which holidays to take. My sister had just ended a long term relationship and didn’t want to explain to several dozen people where her partner was so she wasn’t going to Thanksgiving with my parents.

I decided that we could have Thanksgiving together. So, I put in for that day and felt good about it.

You might note in those actions, I didn’t talk to my sister about us having dinner together. So, when I, full of misplaced pride in what I had done, told my parents about this, they pointed out that my sister was going to California to have Thanksgiving with her friends.

And that’s how I spent that Thanksgiving alone. Communication is important!

A Farewell

I hadn’t updated this blog in quite a while. I just haven’t had the heart to do so. It’s because a friend of mine has passed away recently. I won’t get into the details. I won’t say his name because I want the family to have their privacy. I know I’m not popular enough for a bunch of people to try and find them but you never know.

The death was sudden. We didn’t see it coming. He was there one day. I was texting him about when the next time we were going to hang was and then I got a text message from his mother that he was in the hospital. I went to see him that night. I heard the news and said my goodbyes. He was gone by that Saturday.

As I said, I don’t want to talk about the details. But I will talk about who he was as a person. He was a man that had been put into an absolutely terrible situation. One that would cause any other person to feel rage or anger. Him on the other hand, he was always patient, always kind. He had lost his father when he was much younger, when we were teens. When my own passed, I told him I guess we’re in the same shitty club.

I’m reminded of a line from Cold Mountain, where Stobrod sees the grave of Pangle. “If God was to set out killing every man on earth in order of their demerits, that boy would bring up the hind end of the line.” It’s suitable for him. He was kind, always. He was gentle, always. He loved his nieces and nephews. He loved his family. He loved everyone.

He had a love of movies that I think was more of an extension of that love. I think that he was just interested in people and their stories. Because of that, I constantly think about the movies I’m going to see and how we won’t be able to talk about them. The shows we were watching that I have to finish on my own.

It hits me in bits and pieces. I think it’s going to start hitting me more as time goes on. When I come down to visit my mom and I know that I’m not going to go see him. It hasn’t happened yet because of holidays, which always screwed up our hang out schedule as well as it’s only been about two weeks.

I don’t have much else to say about this. Usually when I make posts that aren’t about the stupid nerd shit that I like, I offer some kind of way forward. Some little thing that you and I can do to make our lives a little bit better. I don’t have that.

Grief is like nothing else. There is no path but forward. No way but through. It’s a vast ocean that you float in and have to keep your head over water. The waves will hit you and you will feel yourself get overwhelmed. But if you kick your legs and fight to live and honor the people you loved. You’ll get to shore.

Over the weekend

Last weekend marked five years that my father passed away. It didn’t really hit me until I put it into the frame point that it’s been half a decade. We’re coming around to the point that next year, the anniversary will fall on the same day of the week as it was when he first passed. I will as I always have try and keep myself busy that day.

I spoke about him last night while recording a podcast with my friend, Donnie. About how he was a simple man, not a stupid one. How he didn’t need complicated reasons about race theory or LGTBQIA+ because in his mind, he boiled down everything to “There are good people and bad people and it doesn’t matter what if they’re gay, white or black”. He judged people as they came to him.

One of the stories that remains in my mind is that my dad did taxes from January to April. There was an older woman who was on a fixed income and three years of her tax return had been messed up. My father was so angry about the work the guy had done before him. He never took that out on me though, I remember coming downstairs to give him his coffee and he was cursing at the computer. I handed him the coffee, he immediately calmed, said thank you and as I walked away went back to angrily talking about this “Fucking idiot accountant”. My father charged about a hundred dollars an hour for his time but he put the work in. He put in enough effort that he could get people back thousands of dollars and do it in a legal way. I was eating dinner alone when the woman came to pick up her tax returns. I remember sitting at the table and thinking that all the work, about three hours for return, would be a nice paycheck for him. She was over the moon. He had gotten her back so much money. Then I heard him say:

“Let’s just call it fifty dollars and be done with it.”

The woman paid him his money and left. He was clearing up his papers when I went into the room. I asked him why he had only charged her fifty dollars. That should have been a nine hundred dollar paycheck. My father took off his glasses, something that always signaled that he was about to talk to me seriously, and told me:

“Money isn’t the most important thing. She’s a woman alone, Rollo. You have to help where you can.”

That’s been with me since that day and probably will until I can no longer draw a breath. Another favorite story of his is that my dad told me that he didn’t want me to steal because he would be embarrassed if he had to come to the police station because I got caught stealing a candy bar. He didn’t tell me not to steal because it’s wrong, just to do it in a smart way. He told me that if you can steal enough to retire and never work again and do it in a way that you didn’t have to harm anyone, go for it. Anything else was pointless. That was way more effective and I never thought about stealing little things because what would be the point? I can’t retire on what’s in a cash register. I can’t retire on a Butterfingers. My dad said be Danny Ocean or don’t bother.

In conclusion, I want to talk about one of the greatest gifts that my mother gave me. One year, she took a video on her phone of my dad wishing me a happy birthday and that he loved me. Whenever I’m down, I watch that video and get to hear my father’s voice. I get to hear him tell me he loves me.

This is a hard thing I have to tell people and I get asked about the death of my father alot. I’m older and people are seeing their parents get old and becoming infirm. They need someone with experience to get through it. So, they talk to me.

What I’m trying to tell you is if you’re a parent, you should leave behind something that your children can hear you tell them that you love them. That they can go forward without doubting that. And no matter where you are in your life if you have loved ones, tell them that you love them as a goodbye. You want to make sure that that’s the last thing they hear from you in case something happens.

Be well my friends. I love you.

Once again I have overthought a game genre

Another game genre that I’ve been enjoying are simulator games. Two in particular lately, fast food simulator and supermarket simulator. I can say that the first one is a highly accurate version of what it’s like working in a McDonald’s as I did for my first job. The only thing is that I’m not horrendously shy and scared of people.

The work in both games is just as monotonous. You perform the same actions day in and day out. You can throw on a podcast and just cruise. There’s no story to pay attention to.

So, why do I love these games?

Yahtzee the very swear-y video game reviewer has called these dad games and one of his points is that it lets you envision your life if you had taken a different path. As someone who has played these games it also allows you to pretend that these are viable career paths. I put together one bag of food for someone coming through my drive through and it had four items an somehow cost fifty-six dollars.

I’m not a dad and never will be but I’m dad age. Sometimes I imagine pulling a dude from American Beauty and going back to work at McDonald’s when things in my life were simple. But I don’t think that’s why I actually like these games. McDonald’s made my clothing stink no matter how many times my mom washed them. One of my prize Kurt Cobain t-shirts was forever cursed with the smell because I put my work shirt on it overnight.

The real reason that I think that I like it is that I have another hobby that some people might consider boring: knitting. For a lot of people, it might seem so boring to sit still and slowly knit stitch by stitch. But there’s something that I love about the click of the needles and the slow creation of a scarf or washcloth(I’m not that good. I need to work on getting better).

It’s the same thing with these games. Watching as my level goes up in either one and expanding on the things I can make in my fast food restaurant or watching my supermarket slowly expand. It’s the satisfaction of a job well done. Even though it’s just a bunch of 1’s and 0’s.

When I knit, the world falls away, my mind clears and I can just focus on that. It’s the same thing with these simulator games. I don’t care if people think they’re a waste of time or boring, for me those moments of peace are what make it all worth it.

I’m including the Yahtzee video if you want to hear more about dad games:

A Moment in the Lives of Two Early Risers

The sound of her leather jacket was soothing. She had done her makeup the night before and put her hair into a bun on top of her head. Wrapping it with a bandana. There was the crunch of gravel underneath her feet as she walked into the convenience store.

There was an old man standing behind the counter. He was reading a paperback novel. There was music playing on the overhead speakers. Given that it was morning, she bought a small sleeve of donuts. He had a pot of coffee going and she poured herself a cup. Adding her sugar and cream, she approached the counter.

“Morning,” he said setting down his novel.

“Good morning,” she said.

He looked at Julia. She was young, somewhere in her early twenties. She had bright red lipstick and her skin was pale. She wore a buttoned down dark blue shirt with white polka dots tied at the waist. Black boots and black leggings.

She glanced at him. He had a Santa quality about him. Was probably a grandpa. He wore a black Motley Crue T-shirt and jeans. He had tiny reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

He glanced at the clock. It was five in the morning.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’re you doing up so early, dressed so fine?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Julia said. “Thought I would take my bike out for a ride. Go see the sun rise.”

“That sounds like a helluva morning,” the old man said.

“I noticed your sign has different hours. You shouldn’t be open this early.”

“Couldn’t sleep so I figured I could make some money to early risers like yourself.”

“That’s fair.”

“Where are you heading to see the sunrise?”

“West Quoddy Head lighthouse. I’m racing the sun.”

“Funny, isn’t it? The most eastern point in America is called West Quoddy. Interesting.”

She held out a twenty.

“Keep it,” he said. “You have a good ride. Wish I was your age again. Sounds like you’re having fun.”

“I am and I don’t want to short a small business, especially one run by such a gentleman,” Julia said.

“Fair enough.”

He took the cash and gave her her change. She offered her hand and the took shook. She walked out of the store and threw her leg over her bike. She started it up, revved the engine and took off down the road.

The road to the lighthouse needed people to be wide awake. The coffee was a boon to her. She got to the lighthouse and parked her bike in the parking lot. She climbed the small hill and waited.

There were others there with her. They were doing the same. Waiting for the sun. Waiting for a new day full of promise.

She thought about the breakup that she had gone through recently. How for so long, she had felt wrong and foolish for breaking up with him. He had done such a good job putting her down. Trying to dampen her light. Now though, as the sun rose turning the sky pink. The feel of the sea on her face, she felt alive again. Light and beautiful. She raised her cup to the sun and hoped that the old man at the convenience store had a good day as well.

The next day was rainy and cloudy. The day after promised clear skies.

Because of this, an older gentleman, white of beard and aching in his bones rolled a motorcycle out of his garage. An older but slightly younger woman, not used to being awake at this time of day but happy that her husband was happy, came walking out of the house securing a helmet over her hair.

“Let’s go, mama,” he said.

They drove into the coming dawn. They saw the sunrise. They hit the road again. They saw where the day could take them.