Fatherhood, Part II

           

When my alarm sounded at 3:30 Mountain this morning, I felt mostly in control of my travel anxiety. All my clothes were washed, neatly folded in my suitcase, the contents of my carry-on tucked and zipped in their necessary compartments. I avoided snooze, had my morning pee, showered, shaved, and summoned an Uber.

            Richard and I made the appropriate amount of conversation for 4:15 a.m. and his Toyota Prius puttered along the Colorado freeway with efficiency. The security line was buzzing as usual at Denver International Airport, and once I was through it, off the train, and seated at my gate, I found myself purposelessly jumping in and out of apps on my phone. When I’d grown tired of this I looked up and noticed a woman across the aisle looking at me. I looked back down in what was likely a normal bit of social awkwardness, but was quick to return another glance when she spoke my name.

            “Lesley Speer,” she said. I jolted out of my chair, likely energized by the strange feeling I’d had in Richard’s Prius that I would run in to someone I know, which happens more often than not when flying to Denver from Kansas City, or in this case, the opposite.

            I sat with her for the 10 minutes or so until it was my turn to get in to the Southwest Airlines’ numerical-order line, and -- the flight being at capacity -- that was the end of our exchange. I’d already downloaded a podcast that was nearly the exact duration of the flight, and as we prepared to taxi, I snorted at the preview for the upcoming Between Two Ferns. I repeated my out-loud chuckles as I consumed the podcast, and probably made the couple sitting next to me think I was a little bizarre.

Freewriting: Black Pants

            You came to me in a work setting and we were bound by circumstances. Well, at least I think we were. I know I was. And even though it was a lifetime ago I can still remember those black pants. They were over there. By the copy machine. You rooted through the file folders and they were on you, calling to me in a whisper so loud I scanned the room twice, unsure if others’d heard.

            Across a handful of months we crossed paths from time to time, never without mutual smiles. Seeing your name on the computer always brightened my day and the few live conversations we had I cherished. You were good at your job, I think, but that wasn’t why; our dialogue always turned my motivation on its head.

            After a time I was gone and the same would soon be true for you, too, both of us returning to the grinds from which we came. And the tiniest connection we had evaporated into the skies of our respective lives.

            Trying to quantify everything that has transpired since feels like an attempt to assess your cloud-flanked altitude before the pilot announces it. There’s just…too much of everything.

The End of an Era, Indeed

           

                                                                          (photo courtesy of epagaFOTO)

            April will mark 19 years that I have been back in Kansas City, and to be fair, use of the word “back” there is not geographically honest.

            I bounced around a bit in my youth and any previous area dwellings were all on the Kansas side, but the far reaches of the city that go north, span east, trickle west, and run south are all rooted in this great, great city of ours. It’s not better. It’s not the best. It is not bad and it is certainly not good. Kansas City is a great city for more reasons than I care to list and you care to read. It’s home to many, a lot of whom don’t live here anymore.

            I was once one of those and just as I was gone long enough to start feeling like my new home was home, I was called back to the City of Fountains, the Paris of the Plains.

One Thousand Gratitudes, Part XXXV: 150-126

These things...they come and go in waves.

Happy Sunday.

Thanks for reading.

One Thousand Gratitudes, Part XXXIV, 175-151

In the beginning of this project I joked about how hard it would be to avoid repetition by the time I got to the end, and that's turning out to be true in every sense. I'm doing everything I can to try and think of the real things, the important things in life, and instead of coming up with stuff, I'm probably coming across as a 21st-century, idiot, American male.

At this point, though, my sole focus is split into two tiers: a) the perspective gained from starting this series, and b) finishing it.

As I chisel away at the remaining few, I'll make an effort to try and get outside of myself.

As always, thanks for reading. 

One Thousand Gratitudes, Part XXXI: 250-226

Last post for July.

Hope everyone's enjoying their summer.

Thanks for reading.

One Thousand Gratitudes, Part XXIX: 300-276

As I sat down to edit this entry I noticed a couple of goofs as the 300s wound down. I hope they've been fixed and I apologize for any redundancy you might see in this (or other recent) entry.

Something that's been on my mind a lot lately has to do with whether or not I'm coming up with all of the right things in this project. That is, I've touched on particular subjects and offshoots of them on countless occasions and, in doing so, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'm now leaving out something crucial.

I feel certain that, at the conclusion of this project, many things will spring to mind that I would like to have included, but the book will have been closed. I know it doesn't matter, that the list of gratitudes should be a lifelong accumulation, but I don't want to come across as arrogant. We have a lot to be thankful for in this part of the world -- some of us more so than others -- and I'm trying to grow my mindfulness of that truth.

My wife also asked me where I was with it and whether or not it had changed me.

I guess I wish she would have known the answer to both of those questions, but maybe that just means I've overlooked a particular gratitude. Or several. Or maybe it's one I haven't even realized yet.

Anyway, thanks -- as always -- for reading.

One Thousand Gratitudes, Part XXII: 475-451

Hello, again and thank you for coming back.

One Thousand Gratitudes, Part XV: 650-626

I wish it were easier to tie up categories without post overlap, but what're'ya' gonna do?

Things -- it would seem -- got a touch intimate in this installment, and I hope that when that happens my coveted army of three readers doesn't get squeamish or offended. I'm trying to keep things real both in here and anytime I write. That's always been the intention and until I learn otherwise it always will be.

After I posted the last installment, my wife asked me if I thought this series had changed me.

I think the answer is "yes," but I think it's also a work in progress. It's easy to be in one mindset, then slip into another.

Rest assured, though, I'm trying to view the world as a thankful dude.

There's a lot of awesome out there.

And all of you are certainly part of it.

Thanks for reading.