We all have them, memories that remind us of a time or place that we would prefer not to revisit brought back to the forefront by the utterance of a single word; a word that has an unexplainable power to rattle us to our core. I admit it’s been a while since my last visit. There is a reason that I stayed away. For the past few years, the month of September serves marker of sorts, and with it comes emotions that bubble up. I now tend to think of events in terms of pre-September and post-September 2011. It will be seven years ago, this month that a man in a white lab coat with letters behind his name introduced a new word in my vocabulary.
The City of Champions
Greetings from Pittsburgh, the only place I know of where a penguin, a pirate, a parrot and an 8-foot tall Pierogi walking into a bar is an everyday occurrence. This weekend, I had the opportunity to attend an event in a city with a rich football history; the town with players named Bradshaw, Harris, and Bettis creating their legacies for their passion for the sport and their dedication to winning. This weekend, I had a chance to meet some extraordinary people who deserve the same honors.
Some would consider him an ordinary Joe, a man who gave up a job he loved driving a school bus because a lab coat guy handed him a new adjective to describe himself. Then there was Molly, a 30-something daughter, who was putting her life on hold so she could walk beside her overwhelmed father navigate his new reality. Then there was a stately older couple, leaning on each other, who organized the event that rallied so many to their cause. Selfless acts that are seldom seen in our self-centered world.
Words Matter
How can a few words change someone’s life so dramatically? I didn’t ask that lab coat guy to change me; all I wanted him to do was to fix that one broken part. Isn’t that what we want; to be allowed to correct only the parts that we think are broken — to live as though everything spins in our orbit and is held in place by our magnetism? That those things that are in our obit are there because we choose for them to be there and what we don’t want them there, we can shove aside?
Strangely, those things that we shove out of our orbits tend to come crashing back, usually at times and in ways that are the most public and invasive. The very thing, that I thought I was so good at hiding from the masses these past few years is beginning to show itself in times and in ways that are inconvenient and public.
I thought it would get easier as time passes, to be able to put those emotions somewhere safe, locked up tighter than Newman’s mailbag where they are out of sight and out of mind. But they seem to come crashing back, year after year, with a little more punch than the year before. It’s like a bad joke with a punchline that is unsuitable for this high-brow audience.
With that, I will leave you with this,
“A penguin, a pirate his parrot and an 8-foot tall Pierogi walk into a bar…”
Welcome to my extraordinary life. Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing,
Ivy, a penguin, is an aquatic, flightless bird that lives predominantly in the southern hemisphere. Yes, they do well in the cold. Why do you ask?
Al and his faithful, but sociable sidekick, Ivy the wonder pup.
Your right Ivy, We need to be good neighbors and invite a waddle over to visit; it would give us a reason to keep the pool open this winter. After, It is the least we can do save the planet in the name of climate change.
Do you want to teach them how to play hockey?