Death, Actually: Part 2

Part 1

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Joseph rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes while he tried to comprehend what was happening.

"Yes, yes. I know. The initial shock is something that’s difficult to deal with. But trust me, you’ll get over it." said Hades.

"Get over it? How do you get over being dead? Why can’t I remember anything except people saying my name and what’s happened in this… this… place?" he blustered.

"Well for starters, when you come across, your memories are masked from you. This is done for many reasons. First and foremost it helps keep the peace. Secondly it teaches patience and forgiveness… or at least that’s the intention." Death explained. "I mean, think of the chaos that would occur if people popped in here with full recall and a hot grudge against someone left on the other side. Some folks would nurse that like you wouldn’t believe. The next thing you know you’ve got all out conflict over a generation old argument."

"But why did I see what I saw when you said my name?" Joseph asked.

"Some folks have memories that are closely tied to their being. A name is one of the most fundamental pieces of your self-identity. That’s why it hit you like a shitwagon on it’s way to pump a honeypot when I said it. It’s not always just words though. It can be music, smells, a chain of thought leading you the right way, or the way the sunlight hits a flower when you are looking at it from a certain angle…" he trailed off, lost in a thought. He quickly regained his composure though and carried on, an almost embarrased look on his bearded face.

"The rest of your answers will all come in time though. For now, we’ll just sort of, you know, hang out together." Hades smiled as he said this. "So you can learn the ropes and learn to get around. The afterlife isn’t what most people expect."

"Hanging out. With Death. Right." murmured Joseph. "Well is there anything else you can tell me now?"

"Yes. Don’t be concerned about your memory. You already know what you need to know to get around and you’ll remember what you  need to remember soon enough."

"Now," Hades said "let’s get something to eat. Who’s up for chinese?"

Emma’s First Birthday Party

Emma’s birthday has come and gone, and as promised here are nearly 90 photos of cake eatin’, birthday present openin’ goodness. Emma had a blast at her first birthday party and I hope the rest of you have a good time checking out the photos. Enjoy!

Dear Emma

Dear Emma,

It was one year ago today that you came into the world. You were so small and frail and fragile. Your mommy and I were so happy to see you once you arrived. Mommy was crying and so was I. Papaw said “I’m a Grandpa!” as he held you in his arms for the first time, a smile beaming from ear to ear.

You’ve changed our lives so much over the past year. You’ve helped make me a better man in spite of my obvious faults. A more patient one.

You make me so proud every time I see you. You toddle up to me and grab onto my leg and hold me tight until I pick you up. Sometimes you’ll even give me a kiss. When I see you in your little pink hat or when you laugh and smile my heart melts.

I’ve watched you grow over the last year, and watched as you learned how to roll over, then sit up, then crawl, then walk. I look at you today as you run around almost effortlessly and wonder to myself “was there ever a time when she wasn’t this way?” Then I think back to the times when you would fall asleep on my chest, or I would carry you from room to room showing you things as you took it all in.

The changes you have gone through over the last year have been amazing to behold. I’ve heard it said that people learn more from their children than they did from their parents. I’m finding that to be true. You’ve shown me a reflection of myself and I hope that reflection stays true and honest and caring.

I’m proud to be your Daddy, and I hope that some day you will proudly say that I am your father.

I love you Emma.

Love,
Daddy

#$@%*&#@$(@#

#$@%*&#@$(@#

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s when people call me and ask me for help, then either disregard my advice, don’t do what I ask them to do, or don’t fill me in on the whole situation thus prolonging their agony.

I had one of my customers call in today and state that they were getting errors when trying to view their reports. I started going through the usual troubleshooting routine but their tech got all MCSE on me and decided to overanalyze the situation. He then decided that the best thing to do was just to talk to one of the developers, which is like telling a Priest that he’s not good enough and that you want to talk to God directly. It’s possible, but the communication method might not be quite what you expect.

I mean #!%@$^ it all to hell. What am I? Freaking chopped liver?

Then their user calls in and says she wants to talk to a manager or a developer and I tell her that I’m all she’s got. After we all go to defcon 5 she decides to let me know that the issue has been going on for four months and no one has been able to help her get it resolved. Well THANKS FOR FREAKING LETTING ME KNOW NOW YOU STUPID #%@$^^@$^$^@. THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME KNOW THAT IN ADVANCE AND NOW YOU HAVE ME BENT OUT OF SHAPE AND LESS LIKELY TO HELP YOU WHICH IS WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO GET PAID FOR.

I mean DAMN.

Son of a #$%@$%@$.

SO.

I wrote up an FYI and sent it out to my entire group (including the developers) to let them know. More than likely calls are going to have to be listened to and now a freaking post mortem is going to have to be done all because SOMEONE DIDN’T LET ME KNOW THAT THE ISSUE HAD BEEN GOING ON FOR FOUR MONTHS AND THEN DECIDED TO GET ALL MCSE ON ME.

*insert other nonsensical rants, ravings, and lunacy here*

Things People Should Have A License For:
- Driving
- Hunting
- Fishing
- Breeding
- Parenting
- Using a Computer

God, I swear. I’m gonna take up carpentry or start driving a semi or something. Stupid farking people.

New Photos Soon

This weekend will be Emma’s first birthday party and I plan on taking a slew of photos. Shortly after they will be posted, or at least that’s the goal.

Sorry, don’t mean to be stingy.

An Explanation of Sorts

I make no bones about the fact that I am an inconsistent person. I know that I may confuse some of you by the fact that I may be praying to God in one entry, then cursing like a sailor in the next. I ask that you not judge me for doing so. If anything, I hope that some of you empathize with me. After all, I’m sure I’m not the only person who tries to be the best person they can be one day only to realize the next that they’ve done or said something that isn’t always exactly right.

Some people who call themselves Christians would hide the fact that they have a sailor mouth behind closed doors as a guarded secret. I leave my imperfections, foibles, and faults here for people to see. I do not trumpet this loudly, nor do I use it as a crutch to hobble around on. I’m just me trying to live my life one day at a time, just like anyone else.

If you don’t like it, then sod off. Go read someone else’s blog.

My Room

It’s just after 11PM. Cheryl is in bed and I just finished watching an episode of Monk. Good show, that. I find that it is getting easier to figure out the subtle clues and intricacies of the mysteries though so it’s losing it’s appeal.

I’m depressed tonight.

It’s late and I’m tired and so my insecurities are taking advantage of my fatigue.

I’ve had a lot of doubts and thoughts running through my head about selling the house and moving back out with Dad. I can’t help it. I can just hear my Mother’s voice in my head telling me what a failure I am. I know I promised not to ruminate here but tonight I just can’t help it.

I’m such a… a…

Failure?

How can I be a failure? How can I be anything but?

I don’t know.

I have a good career. A wife that loves me and a daughter that adores me. I am nearly ready to graduate from school and I’m on track to graduate Summa Cum Laude with a double major. I’ve got scholarships and grants and…

… and I feel like none of it is ever good enough.

It’s never good enough because I was the one who was supposed to be a genius. I was the one who was supposed to be so damn smart that’s why I skipped a grade. I was the one who was supposed to be perfect.

But instead I’d come home with C’s and D’s like any other “normal” kid and then get an ass-ripping because it wasn’t fucking good enough. On top of that I had to put up with teasing and ostracism at school because I was not just smart, but fat.

So I caught it with both barrels, at home and at school.

Yay.

Fast-forward twenty years. Look at me now. Mom would be so. damn. proud. of her little boy.

After all, it’s 11:15 PM on a Friday night and I’m venting my frustrations and anxieties and venom to a crowd of voyeurs who casually glance over my writing because they haven’t anything better to do, or because this page showed up on their latest RSS feed, or perhaps you surfed in on a search engine looking for common threads.

Welcome to my personal hell. It’s a room of insecurities, so I don’t expect you to stay long. For the rest of you, see you next entry.

Inspections

Proof that time marches on in spite of what time we have to do things, the home inspection is tonight at 6PM. I’m sure the buyers are all atwitter about this as it is the next “big step” in the house selling/buying process. Cheryl and I stayed up late last night making sure that the house was at least tidy, if not ready for a showing. We are to be scarce tonight during the inspection process, which isn’t a problem. Church is this evening and that will occupy us until at least 8:30 I’d say.

It’s quite a relief that we finally have buyers for the house. I feel like a thousand pounds of stress have been lifted off my shoulders. Dare I say it, but things finally seem to be getting better. The worst case scenario would be that their financing falls through and we start the process over. Given that I’m not looking that way (for once) I’m treating myself to happy thoughts of Cheryl being at home with Emma and living with Dad.

Deep down, it still feels like a step backward though. I recognize that we are doing this for Emma so she has her Mommy at home with her, and her Papaw around her constantly. That will be good for her. It will give me a bit more freedom in my choice of career paths as well. I’ll actually be able to work in Dublin, or Grove City, or downtown, or wherever I want. It’s a nice feeling to have options once again. Before, Cheryl relied on me to get to work and back again.

Anywho.

Emma’s first birthday is coming up on the 27th. We’re starting to make our plans for the party and so on and so on. I’ve made up some snazzy invitations that we will be sending out to friends and family. I’m looking forward to it. I get to put together my daughter’s first swingset. It might sound funny but I’m kind of excited to see how she reacts to it. She loves playing on the swings in the park, so one in her backyard might make her happy. Of course, as much as she enjoys going outside now it will be impossible to keep her indoors when she knows there’s a swing in her backyard.

I’m making it a point to snag some photos at the birthday party. I’ll get those posted soon (contextually speaking) afterwards. I know I’ve been stingy with the photos lately but life has been interrupting in a big way.

Oh well.

Come To Jesus

Written and Composed by Mindy Smith.
Listen (Media streams from the artist’s web site.)

Oh, my baby, when you’re older
Maybe then you’ll understand
You have angels to dance around your shoulders
‘Cause at times in life you’ll need a helping hand

Oh, my baby, when you’re prayin’
Leave your burden by my door
You have Jesus standing at your bedside
To keep you calm, keep you safe
Away from harm

Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don’t seem worth livin’
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms

Oh, my baby, when you’re cryin’
Never hide your face from me
I have conquered hell and driven out the demons
I have come with a life to set you free

Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don’t seem worth livin’
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms

Oh, my baby, when you’re dying
Believe the healing of His hand
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand
Here in Heaven we will wait for your arrival
Here in Heaven you will finally understand

Worry not my daughters,
Worry not my sons
Child, when life don’t seem worth livin’
Come to Jesus and let Him hold you in His arms

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I heard this song the other day on 97.1. It’s been stuck in my head since then and I can’t get it out. You can check out the artist’s web site here, and there is also a streaming media version of the song that you can listen to, as well as a couple others and some music videos. The site is reasonably well done and the music that I’ve heard makes me want to hear the rest of the CD. I’ve made the obligatory rounds to amazon.com and have added the album to my wish list.

In Contract

Yesterday we met with our Realtor and discussed the offer we received. We made a counter-offer which the buyers accepted today. We are now officially in contract. Today begins the countdown to closing day and moving day. We expect to have closed by the end of September and out of the house by the end of October. We will be back at Dad’s place for the next few years until we pay off some debt and build up a decent down payment for our next house. It’s a bittersweet moment.