The Road Less Traveled

Want to tap into some forgotten part of yourself? I’ve perfected this more than I should be proud of. I have even managed to break myself down into tears trying this out. Heed this warning, though: Trying any of the following might just put you on an emotional roller-coaster that is undeniably out of your control.

1. Listen to a song from your past: This is more successful if you choose a song from a very significant time in your life and if you haven’t heard the song for a long time. The other day, I heard “Freshman” by the Verve Pipe and I was transported to trying to scrunch into the back seat of a Chevy Cavalier with three friends on our way to the mall. Most of those faces are strangers to me now but hearing this song brought all of them flowing back. “For the life of me, I cannot remember what made us think that we were wise and we’d never compromise…We’ve tried to wash our hands of all of this. We never talk of our lack in relationships and how we’re guilt stricken sobbin’ with our heads on the floor. We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip…” Man, that was some good stuff.

2. Watch a movie: This is also more effective if you haven’t seen the film for a while and if you once watched it with someone close to you. I rummaged through my VHS tapes and found my copies of Casino and Goodfellas. Once again, memories of propping my feet up on the arm of my friend’s basement couch with the rest of the group sprawled out on the floor, in lounge chairs, staying up until 4 a.m. for our Mobster Movie Marathon. Other films of this famous insomnia inducer included Godfather I and II (we cursed III), Scarface, and Heat.

3. Read one of your favorite children’s books: This is a sad one. This summer, one of my fellow CWVWP participants taught a grammar lesson in which she passed out copies of Amelia Bedelia books to us. I spotted the one I wanted right away. Amelia Bedelia Goes Camping. Just seeing that book brought a wave of memories that nearly sent me out of the room in tears. And I had to fight them back again as I read the book aloud. My grandfather took me to the Cross Lanes library when I was about five or six and this was one of the books I chose. He read it to me in his gruff smoker’s voice, his country accent adding to the humor. Six years later, he died of a stroke on Christmas Eve. Seeing that book… man… it was like looking right into his face again. Moments like that can sweep you off of your feet before you know it.

So, that’s my adventure into the old vault. Heed my warning, though. Objects in the rear-view mirror are closer than they appear.

Until later– “There’s no turning back now that you opened up to your mind.”

My wife sent me a text a few hours ago to tell me that my mother-in-laws dog, Lucy, probably has cancer and is going to be put to sleep.  I can’t remember how long she’s had the dog, but I do remember that I am the one who picked it out for her.  My wife and I chose her from a group of young Yorkshire Terriers at my grandmother’s. 

She is a tiny teacup Yorkie and so lovable and sweet.  To see her is to instantly fall in love.  I normally hate the tiny ankle-biters, but every time I visit my in-laws, Lucy jumps up on my lap, rolls over, and demands to have her belly rubbed.

Cancer… man…  I’ve got a lot I could say about that.  One of my old friends’ mother died of lung cancer when he was a teenager.  One of my students had a brain tumor.  My grandpa had lung cancer and died of a stroke.  It’s been a drama twist used in nearly every television drama.  You wanna bring the tears, start a discussion about cancer.  But it’s real.

No more for now.

 Until later — “There’s no turning back now that you opened up to your mind.”