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My Eulogy for Jimmy

My Eulogy for Jimmy

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Later today we will celebrate the life of Jimmy McLaughlin.

But I would like to share with you now my favorite Jimmy story.

Most evenings when the weather is nice, you will find Kim and me out on our deck unwinding from the stress of the day and catching up with each other.  If you are not familiar with where we live, our yard backs right up to the Herndon High School athletic fields.   There is a fairly thick wooded area between our yard and the more elevated fields, which are enclosed by a chain link fence that is probably a good 7 or 8 feet tall.  Because of our close proximity, if we are on our deck, we are hearing whatever game, practice, or band event that is occurring on the fields.

On this particular evening, if I remember correctly, it was a Powder Puff game that was taking place.

So there we were, on the deck just talking and sitting at the table under the umbrella.  That’s when it happened.

All of a sudden there was this great commotion in woods behind our house.   We could hear bushes and leaves rustling loudly; branches snapping and cracking…..and I mean cracking, these were obviously no small branches being broken.

What the heck could it be?

We were startled…was it a huge deer?  A Big Foot?

What could possibly be snapping large branches like tooth picks and causing all that commotion?

Should we go to safety inside the house?

Seconds later, we saw it.

It wasn’t a giant deer.  No and it wasn’t Big Foot either.

It was a human.

It was a human in his underwear.

And it was Jimmy.

As Jimmy emerged from the trees and the underbrush he quickly bolted across our back yard.  As you would expect with Jimmy, he very respectfully acknowledged Kim and I on the deck with a greeting, never losing a step as he raced across the yard.  We watched in confusion and disbelief as Jimmy crossed the neighbor’s yard, then the common area, and finally disappeared around the tennis courts.

Later I would learn that in the moments  just before the commotion in the woods, Jimmy had streaked across the Powder Puff Game field and had a couple of adults in hot pursuit as he scaled and leaped the high chain link fence and went crashing through the woods.

For Kim and I, left looking at each other thinking what’s to disbelieve?

It was Jimmy in his underwear crashing through the woods and running through the yard.

Why not?

And we laughed.

 

I recently read a book by Elizabeth Gilbert called Big Magic.  You might be familiar with Elizabeth Gilbert because she wrote Eat, Pray, Love; which was pretty popular.   In Big Magic, Gilbert introduces the concept that inspiration is a living thing.  And as a living thing, inspiration is constantly looking for a place to live, a place to develop.  Left idle, that inspiration would move on looking for someplace else, someone else, where it could continue to live and grow.

That may be hard to imagine, but I believe inspiration found a home in Jimmy.  Jimmy was inspired to do great things with his life.  After college something motivated him to leave his comfort zone and join the Navy.  But not just the Navy, he took on Navy Seal training and ultimately became a Medical Navy Diver graduating at the top of his class.

Something in Jimmy drove him to want to take on the most challenging and be the best at it.

And he succeeded.

I propose this to you, because I want you to consider that what if Ms. Gilbert’s theory has merit?  What if the inspiration that found its home in Jimmy, is now idle and looking for a place to live?

And wouldn’t it be an honor and a privilege if the inspiration that was alive in Jimmy, found its new home in one of us.

But maybe we think that is a bunch of crap and don’t believe that inspiration is a living thing looking for a place to grow.

Maybe we don’t need to.  Maybe we just need to consider Jimmy’s life…. not his death, but his life; and maybe that would be enough  to inspire one of us  to strive to do something we have never done before, something outside our comfort zone, and be the best at it.

And do it with the same good nature and passion that Jimmy would have done it with.

I think so.

And for Jimmy, who did all the hard work to provide that inspiration for us, that would be an honorable way to be remembered.

But for now Jimmy,  rest……. in peace.

Words

Words

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Jimmy McLaughlin May 19, 1988 - May 20, 2016
Jimmy McLaughlin
May 19, 1988 – May 21, 2016

For Kathy

It is estimated that there are 1,025,109.8 words in our English language,

Way too many for me to learn how to manage.

But woven together they can build great nations,

And the men and women who speak them, distinguished reputations.

They can be used to create unions of countries divided,

Or unions of two, with a simple “I Do.”

They often express love and sometimes inflict pain,

Either building strong relationships or causing some to be never the same.

And put to a melody some can sing and others try,

Or in a book or an essay, put a tear in your eye.

No matter, without them,  the world we would not know.

 

But if words are so important and so easily spoken,

Why is it so that there are days like today?

A day when I can’t find the words,  and the right thing to say.

When out of that million I struggle for just a few,

That will make this day better…. better for you.

Then I look up from my writing and right in front of me hanging on the wall,

Is a plaque that says:

“Mothers hold their children’s hands for a while…their hearts forever”

There….. I guess I couldn’t have said that any better.

 

Postscript:

The  prayers and deepest sympathies of my family go out to Meghan, Jimmy’s wife; Kathy, Jimmy’s mom, for whom I write this; Rody, Jimmy’s dad; Tommy, Christian, and Patrick, Jimmy’s brothers; as well as to Jimmy’s grandmother, aunts and uncles, and cousins.  And also to the extended family, you know who you are, who once again are circling the wagons.

Mother’s Day Angels

Mother’s Day Angels

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Lying in her bed, early in the morning

The cell phone rings with a message that reads

“Thinking of you, have nice day”

She puts her head back down on the pillow and starts to cry

Here we go again this year

It’s another Mother’s Day

 

I don’t remember which year, which Mother’s Day I wrote that, the opening paragraph of a longer piece I never finished.

It’s another Mother’s Day.  They are all a little different and unfortunately all have their similarities.

Today started with the similar, some sadness, some tears.

Kim decided to make a visit to the cemetery to visit Donny, and this is where it got different.

While there she felt a hand on her back.  It was a woman.  The women explained she had been walking by and saw Kim there.

And her heart felt heavy.

She started to walk back by again but again she didn’t stop.  And again she said she felt the Lord heavy on her heart and she felt like the Lord wanted her to stop and talk.

And so the third time she decided to walk up to Kim.

She told Kim “your son is always going to be with you even though he is with the Lord.”

And she said “It’s okay to cry.”

 

I don’t know who that women was who felt the need to stop and talk to Kim on this Mother’s Day, but for today to me she was an angel.  Like the young person who sent the text messages to Kim for many years on Mother’s Day, “Thinking of you, have a nice day.”  That act of thoughtfulness was huge.   To me,  he was also an angel.

And though the day started very similar to many other Mother’s Days I remember, this one had its story that made it different and as a result helped make it better.

Because just like the stranger in the cemetery said “it’s okay to cry,” it’s okay to be happy too even though you might feel like you shouldn’t.

So Happy Mother’s Day to my wife and to all the mom’s out there.  I am sure you all have your angels too.

 

Facebook Memory and Holly’s Hunnies

Facebook Memory and Holly’s Hunnies

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Holly Tomlinson

I got one of those “Your Memories on Facebook” alerts today from two years ago.  I don’t usually pay much too attention to them but this one made me reflect because as the post said, it was special.  It was a Facebook post from April 3, 2014 that was me sharing my “Happier, Healthier Me” blog for that week on my personal Facebook page.  It went like this:

Hey gang, this week’s blog.  It’s a little early but it’s special……and maybe we can find a few more supporters.  Please like and share.

SSR Curt Christiansen’s A Happier, Healthier Me: Week Fourteen

I don’t remember exactly when I met the Tomlinsons; Holly and the kids. Holly’s middle child Blair was an elementary school classmate of Savannah; her oldest son Ryan was Hayley’s age and a grade ahead of Donny; and her youngest daughter Kelly a few years behind Blair and Savannah. While Kim and I were busy blending our two families, as is typical I guess, many of our good friendships grew out of those of our children. As our now extended group of friends experienced our kids and each other’s kids grow from elementary school to middle school to high school and young adulthood, we often got through those times together. Someone once said it takes a village, we had a village.

Holly was a free spirit, always the positive one, and maybe the one who got a little less worked up over what our kids were experiencing and what we parents were stressing over. Holly was my age and we shared some of same experiences growing up in the culture of 60’s and 70’s.

When my family faced tragedy and this same group of friends we had grown to love circled their wagons around us, Holly and the kids were there.

Sadly, somewhere along the way of our kids growing up, and our lives getting more complicated, Holly was diagnosed with breast cancer. She handled her illness with that same spirit that guided her whole life and was positive to the end.

On May 26th, 2011, Holly lost her battle with breast cancer.

In April of 2012, with the help of The Step Sisters Brambleton Ribbon Run, Holly’s Hunnies was born.

Holly’s kids, wanting to support the effort to fight breast cancer, but not so much on the national level of the Susan G. Komen, found The Step Sisters organization, a local Loudoun County group of women and men, who joined together seven years ago to take on the challenge of fighting breast cancer. It was the local support services who were there for Holly and so that is where the kids wanted to help out.

That first year, the team of Holly’s Hunnies who ran together in the Ribbon Run numbered about eight including the kids. Last year, my first year, the team increased to about 15 participants. This year, according to Kelly, an estimated 26 new team members have signed up and will participate on the team wearing the pink tee shirts with team name of Holly’s Hunnies, including one 9 month old team member in a “onesie.” They will run with the estimated 2000 other participants in the 10K, 5K, or the Fun Run. According to Kelly that was another reason they picked this event, all could participate, it could be a nice family thing.

I know Breast Cancer Awareness Month is not until October but since breast cancer does not follow a schedule and the need for support is ongoing, it’s always a good time to be reminded. According to Breastcancer.org it was expected that approximately 235,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer would be diagnosed in U.S. women and men last year.

The 7th annual Brambleton Ribbon Run/Walk will be held Saturday, April 5, 2014 (rain or shine). If you are not doing anything and want to help Ryan, Blair, and Kelly; and the other members of their team raise some money and awareness in Holly’s memory or maybe in memory of someone you know, come on out and introduce yourself.

We will be the ones in the pink tee shirts, with the logo, “Holly’s Hunnies”.

This was my Facebook Memory post from two years ago.   I am glad that I received that reminder today.  By the way the 9th annual Brambleton Ribbon Run/Walk will be held Saturday, April 16th if you would like to support the Step Sisters organization, Holly’s Hunnies 2016, or just get out and get some exercise.  Click the link and sign up!

Thanks for letting me share that again.

TGIGF – Thank God, It’s Good Friday

TGIGF – Thank God, It’s Good Friday

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What is it like for a mother to lose a son?

I will never know.

Sometimes I think I understand but I never really will, how could I?

On this day a couple of thousand years ago, on Good Friday, the Bible says Mary watched her son die.

I am sure Mary relived the events of that day and of that week, every day for the rest of her life.

Now, each year many of us relive the events of that week and the nightmare of that Friday for a mother named Mary,  the mother of Jesus. …

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Presidential Politics, I Am Mad As Hell and Can’t Take It Anymore!

Presidential Politics, I Am Mad As Hell and Can’t Take It Anymore!

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christianI told myself when I started this website I was going to stay away from anything controversial; nothing that would offend people and especially no politics.

But I can’t take it anymore. I now think I need to weigh in on the subject. If this offends you I am truly sorry.

We are on the eve of the Florida Primary and this idea needs to be vetted.

I think, without a doubt if I surveyed a sampling of our younger generation, those that we will be leaving our legacy to; a sampling like my two grandsons, Cameron and Christian, I would unanimously come up with a viable candidate. And who would that candidate would be?

Mickey Mouse.

Yes, that’s right, Mickey Mouse.

He has all the qualifications we need in a President.

He doesn’t lie.

He loves ALL boys and girls.

He manages a small country otherwise known as “Mickey’s Clubhouse.”

He is an excellent problem solver.

He has fiscal experience proven by the fact that he can round up and lasso numbers 1 through 10 and place them in a corral.

He surrounds himself with a team of loyal followers that include a female mouse, male duck, a couple of dogs, a cow, and another duck who is a professor, a big cat, and a couple of chipmunks. Oh, and a Giant.

And that is just his inner circle, his cabinet; that I would speculate looking this way:
Donald Duck – Vice President
Minnie Mouse – Secretary of State
Daisy – Interior
Goofy – Secretary of the Treasury
Willie the Giant – Secretary of Defense
Clara Bell – Labor
Professor Von Drake – Health and Human Services
Pete the Cat – definitely Homeland Security
Chip – Agriculture
Dale – Education
And I am sure Mickey can find a few more to fill in the rest.

But that is not the best of it.

Most importantly, Mickey Mouse has Mouseketools!

Can you imagine how much stronger our already fine military would be with the help of a Mouseketool?

National Security? Hurricane relief? No problem!

Just think about it.

North Korean President Kim Jong-un swinging his hydrogen bomb around again?

“Oh Toodles…………..Oh Toodles………… ”

That’s it, done. Go have another cup of coffee.

And what about vacation White Houses? Who needs Camp David, we’d have Disney World and Disneyland!

And how about those State Dinners? They would be like character breakfasts at the Contemporary Resort! How fun would that be?

And can’t you just picture Vladimir Putin doing the “Hot Dog Dance?”

I am telling you, I think I am on to something here…….

Who’s with me?

Well that’s it then!

It’s unanimouse…..!

I mean it’s unanimous!

Thank you my fellow Americans!

 

Gray Lives Matter

Gray Lives Matter

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stairs

Deep in thought, I take what seems like it has to be the last step up the stairs to my level of the parking garage.

Earlier that day, I heard a story on the radio about research done at Concordia University in Montreal, Canada that shows that climbing stairs daily can greatly improve the gray matter in your brain as you get older.

Gee, I thought, I could sure use some more gray matter, and also for sure, I am getting older.

As I reached the landing I decided to peek around the corner to see if this was my level.
The sign over the elevator said Level Two.

C’mon Level Two? I thought. How can that be?

Oh well, I needed Level Five

I continued, this time much more aware of my progress. Acutely aware I would say as I landed Level Five.

Wow, it’s amazing at this age, how quickly you lose it. Though I have been running for almost thirty years now, it’s not always been consistent. There have been periods, usually associated with times of life stress, when I have taken a break from running. Some of those breaks lasted a long time, like the year after Donny’s accident, and last year for instance.
But just two years ago I was running ten miler’s and I did my first and only half marathon.
Now, I am struggling to get to my truck on Level Five of the Reston Hospital parking garage.

The same study also showed a correlation with education in that for every year of education, the brain appeared a year younger.

I am not sure I am going to go back to school at this point but you never know. I have been obsessively reading, though mostly with audio books so I guess technically not “reading”. Maybe, however, I will get some gray matter credit for that. Or maybe I just need to double up on the stair climbing.

Though this growing old thing is something I think about a lot, I don’t obsessively worry about it. I just have so much more I want to do, and so in some ways I guess I am looking forward to it. All those things I was unable to do while “growing up”; those things that I put off until later in life when I could afford to do them in time and otherwise. I want a shot at those. But in my world it is nothing elaborate, nothing excessive. It’s just some peace, a break from worry, more time with my wife, more time with my family, more time with a fishing pole. And as the title of this website implies, Musings of an Aging Nobody: what I want to do when I grow up, more time doing this sort of thing.

So if I want to accomplish all that it will be important to stay healthy in mind and body. The truth is, we should all be climbing more stairs because let’s face it, America is graying and gray lives matter! Gray matter matters!

See you in the stairwell.

 

“A Writer Who Waits for Ideal Conditions Under Which to Work Will Die Without Putting a Word on Paper” E. B. White

“A Writer Who Waits for Ideal Conditions Under Which to Work Will Die Without Putting a Word on Paper” E. B. White

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rod two

Nothing…

I’ve got nothing…

It’s been weeks, yet still nothing…

It’s Saturday.

I am still in bed.

No ideas….no words….nothing comes to me.

Normally I am up early but today I don’t feel like getting up.

Suddenly my cell phone rings, it’s  Alexa calling to do a video call.

Yikes! I am still in bed, my hair looks like a rendition of an early 70’s Rod Stewart bad hair day!
I guess you can stay in bed, but nowadays you can’t hide.

Christian, my almost 9 month old grandson, is demonstrating his new ability to say and wave “bye.”  It is precious. But then we have to say “bye” for real and it is over way too soon.

Now I am still in bed…

I still have nothing…

I remind myself creativity takes time, you have to clear your mind.
But how can I?
I have work, I have worries, I have responsibilities, I have a family.

It is believed that John wrote the Book of Revelations while exiled on the Isle of Patmos.
And Nelson Mandela wrote “Conversations with Myself” while in prison.

I can just imagine it:

“Kim, I think I am going to take off for four months, go to an island, and write my book”

“Sure you are….now can you take out the garbage?”

Or

“Kim, I think I am going to go rob the Walgreen’s so that I can go to prison where I will write my book”

“Okay honey, just remember we are serving Communion next Sunday in church”

Ah but maybe I am just thinking about this too much.
Maybe I just need to get out of bed and take out the garbage.
Something is bound to come to me sooner or later.

Written sometime in the early afternoon, Saturday March 5, in my truck while parked at the Fairfax County Solid Waste Recycling Center (AKA, The Dump) where I took out the garbage.

Bowling for Cameron

Bowling for Cameron

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In 1974 when I turned 18 years old I joined the Oceanport Hook & Ladder Fire Company. It was a great experience and I made a lot of good friends. In addition to putting out fires, the fire company offered many social activities for its members. One of those activities was a Fireman’s bowling league. As a new OPH&L member I was a good conscript for the bowling team. The only problem was I had never in my life picked up a bowling ball.

One of those good fireman friends was Kevin Higgins. Kevin’s father was a retired Colonel in the Army and Oceanport had an Army base right next to it named Fort Monmouth. Since Kevin was the son of an officer he had open access to the Fort communicated by the type of sticker on the bumper of his V0lkswagon bug. I always thought it was funny when we drove through the gates, a couple of long haired kids in a VW, the MP’s would stand at attention and salute us.

One day, Kevin and another friend, Joe Centanni, decided they were going to take me bowling,  so with Kevin’s access to the base, we went to the bowling alley on Fort Monmouth. We got the shoes, got some refreshments, found the lane and I got ready to begin my bowling career.

After a couple of pointers from my friends I picked up a nice 16 pound bowling ball, all 120 pounds of me, and stood up in the lane for my first bowling experience.
I studied the pins intensely as I went through the motions in my head that would be my bowling form. I imagined carefully placing the ball squarely down the center of the lane and knocking down all the pins for a strike. With my friends encouraging me, I focused on the pins as I took those first couple of real steps. As the choreography unfolded, my arm position slowly changed from holding the ball in front of me to moving the ball down and past my hip as I attempted to create the back swing that would generate the force and speed I would need to get the ball down the lane to knock down all the pins.

The only problem was, when I hit the peak of my back swing I launched the bowling ball not at the pins but at my friends. I turned in horror and embarrassment as I watched people scattering everywhere as that 16 pound cannonball came crashing at them.

I thought for sure at that point my bowling adventure would be over. But after everyone composed themselves, got settled down, and everyone in the place stopped laughing, my friends encouraged me to try again. This time I not only managed to throw the ball in the right direction, but I knocked down all the pins for a strike. Though technically not a strike, since my first ball went into the crowd, I felt good about it.

As a result of my newly acquired pastime, I became an official member of the Oceanport Hook & Ladder Fire Company bowling team in the Fireman’s League. Soon after that I even got my own bowling ball with my initials on it and a bowling bag to carry it in.

This past weekend I went bowling again. I don’t remember the last time I had bowled since other than a class in college, my bowling league days ended in New Jersey. My grandson Cameron loves to go bowling so on this day he wanted to take his Pop Pop and his Mimi bowling. Since I remembered seeing my bowling bag somewhere in the basement, I hustled down and looked around until I found it. I had to use a vacuum cleaner to remove the heavy layer of dust that had engulfed my circa 1974 bowling bag. After a final clean up with a Clorox wipe I was ready. I proudly walked out to the car where the family was waiting for me, with my 42 year bowling bag carrying my 42 year old bowling ball with my initials on it. My wife was very impressed.

And, by the end of the afternoon, my daughter was also very impressed that there was actually a sport that I could be considered competitive in. Not that a score of 149 would necessarily be considered competitive,  today at least, I was able to beat my five year old grandson and my wife. On this day, as far as they were concerned, I was Earl Anthony.

Of course, having the bumpers up didn’t hurt either.

So today I remember my first bowling experience thanks to my friends Kevin and Joe as I look forward to a new bowling chapter in my life, this time with my grandson Cameron.
Happy Bowling!

This One’s For You Kim

This One’s For You Kim

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You know the feeling, I know you do.

That emotional rush that happens every now and then.
It’s not always the same and you don’t always know when to expect it.

Sometimes it comes with goose bumps and you feel it down the back of your neck.
Maybe your heart beats faster and your face gets flushed.
Or it’s an anxious, nervous feeling in your stomach.
It might be that uncontrollable need to smile.
Or it might be the tears that come when nothing is sad.
It could be all of those things and then again, it may not be any of them.
It may be just be that quiet feeling of contentment as you close your eyes to sleep.

And you might experience it in other places and at other times.

Like about one minute and twenty eight seconds into Journey’s “Faithfully” when the drums come in,
Or while watching Martina McBride singing “Over the Rainbow” two rows from the stage.

But it gets better.

Remember that first dance at your daughter’s wedding?
And even more special, that first dance at that same daughter’s second wedding.

It comes while holding your first grandchild for that very first time.
And just as powerfully, while holding your second grandchild for the first time.

And there are many other moments and situations as you know.

Sometimes it comes with words, sometimes it doesn’t, and sometimes it makes words impossible.

But especially for me, it’s the first time I saw her, and the last time I kissed her, no matter how many years, days, minutes, and seconds have fallen in between.

Wait, I think Kim just got home…….

“Hi honey, I’m home”…..

See, there it is again……….