See John write

To be fair, the last chapter was pretty incomplete. So we’ll call this the rest of chapter 7.

The church was warm and quiet. I could hear faint voices somewhere inside. My eyes scanned the room. I spotted a gray-haired man up in the front of the chapel. His back was toward me and he was bent down. I hesitated, not sure what I should do. I took one small step inside when the gray-haired man stood up and turned around.

He smiled broadly at me and extended his hand out. “Welcome,” he said in a somewhat hushed tone. “Come this way,” he said as he motioned toward a side door
My face must have shown how confused I felt.

“Are you here for meeting?” he asked.

“No,” I shook my head, “I … um, just needed a place to go.”

He smiled at me again and nodded gently. “Well, son, you are always welcome here,” he said as he walked down the aisle toward me.

He extended his hand and shook mine firmly. “Reverend Spagnoli,” he said.

“Brian,” I answered.

“Nice to meet you, Brian.” His eyes were crystal clear blue and the expression on his face made me feel at once comfortable.

“Um, I know this is going to sound strange, but can you tell me what part of town this is?” I asked.

The reverend’s head turned a little sideways. “You’re lost,” he said. Not asking, not surprised, not concerned. Simply a statement of fact.

“Yeah,” I said almost in a whisper. “I went for a walk and kind of wasn’t paying attention.”

“I see,” the reverend said with a smile. “That happens to a lot of people.”

He turned his back to me and motioned with his hand over toward the window. Pulling the curtain back, he pointed toward a large building. “That right there is the CitiBank building on the corner of 40th and Walton Street. Does that help?”

“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle.

We stepped away from the window. “It’s all about finding a point of reference,” the reverend said gently.

I started to open my mouth to agree. But there was something in his tone, something that told me he wasn’t talking about the CitiBank building.

“Now, Brian, even though it happens to many men, not paying attention is a very dangerous thing,” he said as we paused at the front of the chapel.

I nodded.

“It will most certainly lead you somewhere you don’t want to be.”

I was speechless. Yet strangely I felt I didn’t need to say a word.

“Yeah,” I finally offered. “It’s a rough neighborhood out there.”

“Oh, but you might be wrong,” he retorted with a wink. “Everything is scarier in the dark. When you let the light in,” he paused and looked me in the eye. “When you let the light in, it can be beautiful out there.”

Do I mumble? Seriously. Last night was the first night of my second term. My professor had everyone in the class stand and introduce themselves. I stood and stated my name and the professor interrupted me to ask me to repeat myself. So I did. And he again asked me to repeat myself. So I did. And again! When I started to spell it, he finally located my name on his print out—which also included a photo of my bright and shining face right next to my name.

******

I’m in my second term of statistics. The more I learn about this “art form,” the less I trust so much of the published “findings” that get reported day in and day out. To be fair, there are really smart people who know the capabilities and the limitations of stats. But the truth is it is much more likely that a study is screwed up than that it’s actually reflective of reality.

******

I’m really enjoying this fall. I can’t remember any recent autumn that was so … autumn-like. It seems that for the last several years we’ve had an extended summer that crashed into winter. This has been very nice.

******

The worst part of going back to school: missing out on big moments in my kid’s lives. Like last night. Elizabeth’s first concert as a percussionist. Everybody said she did great.

******

My friend went waterskiing at Pineview two weeks ago. In October. They were the only boat on the whole lake. He said it was amazing. What do you think of drysuits?

******

Matt spent a whole day with a neuropsychologist on Tuesday. She wants to help us learn how Matt learns. She wants to help us figure out as much as we can about what’s going inside his head.

Janet and I spent an hour and a half with the doctor on Monday. We reviewed Matt’s whole life with her. It was surprisingly emotionally draining. We love Matt so much and he’s been through so much.

Next week we get to meet with her again so she can tell us what she thinks.

******

Using my Band Name Generator, I came up with this gem of a name:

Blacktop Stone Philosophy

(The runner up was Skanky Evil Chicks)

Life is CRAZY! I’m anxious to get back to blogging. Maybe if I can just get through this week.

Thanks for checking in.

Maybe you all can make suggestions for what our friend Brian finds inside the church. Does he talk to someone? Is there some profound thought inscribed on the wall? Is there a meeting going on? Is there a dead body? Are there elves and lively music playing?

“This isn’t the best part of town,” he said, trying to keep his voice kind of low.

I wiped my eyes again. The street sign was of no help. I’d never heard of either of the cross streets. I looked at the homeless man again and for the first time noticed several other pairs of eyes staring at me from the shadows.

“Hey,” I said quickly, “which way is downtown from here?”

The old man stepped closer to me and pointed an old wrinkled finger down the street. “Head this way for five blocks, then take a left at the big church.”

“Thanks,” I said and then started walking briskly down the street.

The street was poorly lit and I found my heart rate climbing with each dark doorway or alleyway that I passed. Once or twice I was certain I heard footsteps behind me. But I glanced around and found myself alone.

My fears began to get the best of me. Maybe it’s just better this way. Jenny would be a free woman again and I wouldn’t have to watch our love just slip away.

I spotted the big church on my left. Across the street from the church was a large park. I could see a couple of dark figures in the park wearing hooded jackets. I quickly crossed to the church-side of the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two dark figures start to come toward me. I glanced up at the church—the lights were on. Without thinking twice, I scampered up the steps, pulled the heavy door open, and went inside.

It struck me just after I had Brian run into the homeless guy. Hmmmm. In Fog of Dreams, there was a homeless character. What’s up with all the homeless guys around here?

But then I realized that one of the things about working downtown is that you see homeless people every day. Clearly, they’ve been working on my subconscious. It’s sad to see them, often muttering to themselves. Sometimes they seem panicked or desperate. Other times they seem so distant and defeated. I always want to do something for them. But I hardly ever carry cash. And where I see them every day, it’s hard to know if this is something that I should just budget for. Or do I selectively choose the ones that seem “really” needy?

How do you handle homeless people? Do you ever give them money? Have you ever tried something else, like buying them food?

I needed Jenny. I needed her to hear me. More than anything in the world, I wanted to open up. I wanted her to know that what was happening between us was killing me.

But as I sat there on the couch, all I could do was fight the resentment welling up inside of me. How much more obvious did I have to be? Why is she so cold-hearted?

I dropped my face to my hands. Building up all my courage, I got to my feet. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to say something. I walked slowly toward the bedroom, my mind racing for how to begin.

Suddenly, Jenny whisked out of the bedroom door. She was running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m gonna catch a show with Mackenzie,” she said as she paused at the mirror by the front door and checked her lipstick.

I stood there frozen in the hallway. Before I could get one word out, the door opened and shut. The faint scent of her perfume hung in the air.

The hallow feeling in my gut felt like it might swallow me whole from the inside. I groaned out loud and slammed my fist into the wall.

~~~~~~

I don’t know how far I walked. It must have been hours. I wasn’t going anywhere. It was aimless wandering. Unaware of people or places. Alone with my thoughts.

I didn’t realize that I was crying. But when I came to myself and I looked up for a street sign, I realized I had tears in my eyes. Quickly, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and tried to focus on a street sign just ahead of me.

“Are you OK?” a voice to my left asked.

I turned to see a homeless man stepping from the shadows. His brown hair was tinged with gray and hung around his shoulders. A scraggy beard twisted down from his chin. His large, dark eyes peered out from his weathered skin.

I stepped away from him. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said as I looked away.

Mr. Graham paused. He was never one to choose his words carefully. Every microsecond that passed felt like an invisible vice tightening around my chest.

“Brian,” he finally said, “your performance has dropped off dramatically.”

I knew he was right. I had been distracted for weeks. Details that never slipped before were now catching me by surprise every day.

“There’s been some talk that we should cut you loose.”

I looked down at the table. “I understand, sir.”

“No, Brian!” he snapped. “Look at me.”

I looked at his face which was growing red.

“Don’t you see what’s going on? Why would I take you out to lunch to fire you?”

Our waitress arrived with our food. Mr. Graham didn’t take his eyes off me.

“Brian, you are one of the brightest young men we’ve ever had around here. But it’s time for you to fight! You’ve got to get back into the game. Don’t lay down—that’s not you.”

I wanted to agree with him. No fight had ever frightened me, never intimidated me. But something had changed. Something I couldn’t describe.

So I sat there speechless. Finally I offered a weak nod.

Mr. Graham shook his head.

“Maybe …” he said as he picked up his fork, “maybe I was wrong.”

He took a couple of bites of his lunch. Then he abruptly stood. He pointed at my chest and said, “Start fighting, son. Start fighting.”

~~~~~~

I was sitting on the couch when Jenny came home.

“Hi,” I said, my voice weighted with the burden of my day.

“Hi,” she answered reflexively and then hurried into the kitchen.

So everyone is doing this thing where they set their iPod on shuffle and see what the first 10 songs are that come up.

1. J’ai Fait Tout, Emmylou Harris: Ms. Harris is classified as a country artist, but she’s not the slick pop country. I get sucked into the layers and layers of her songs. This song is haunting and sad. And I don’t even speak French.

2. Life’s Mystery by Dante: I got a random e-mail one day to participate in a psychology study from Columbia University. The study looked at whether or not you were more likely to download songs that other people said they liked. This is one of the songs I got to download for free. It’s a pretty good song.

3. Roll with the Changes by REO Speedwagon: What can I say, I’m a child of the 80’s. These guys might be a little “bubble gum” but man they knew how to strum those electric guitars.

4. The Wrong Company by Flogging Molly: Great Irish rock by a bunch of guys from LA. This song is completely acapella and about being in prison. Presumably from drinking too much. What else would you expect?

5. Never Know by Jack Johnson: This guy is great for a mellow moment. Excellent listening choice when it’s time for homework.

6. War Buddies by Harvey Danger: I just downloaded this album last week. This band decided to try a new way to build popularity. “Let’s give away our music for free.” Not sure how the strategy is working out for them. But I like their alternative/indie rock sound.

7. Adagio by Johann Sebastian Bach: OK, so I’m not totally into classical music. But this song has a haunting melody line (on the oboe I think) that just fits my mood sometimes.

8. Unknown song from a mix James made for Janet: I seriously don’t even know the name of this song or the artist but the chorus goes something like “You know it’s not OK, I smashed your camera, I want to know why tonight I decided which lies that I’ve been hiding.” I don’t even know what it means. But it’s so catchy, it stays and stays in my iPod.

9. The Night is Still Young by Billy Joel: Classic Billy Joel. A song that feels like a warm evening in late summer. Like it could just go on forever.

10. Come Back Down by Lifehouse: I really like Lifehouse. In many ways, they’re like Billy Joel with albums that feature a little bit of filler around some awesome songs. “I hope you can find your way back to the place where you belong.”

So what’s on your iPod?

William Graham was a senior partner at the firm where I worked. He bore the scars of corporate America and though he could be demanding and hard-nosed, I always knew that he had a more thoughtful side.

I think when I first joined the firm, he had seen me like a project. When I was sweating out the 100 hour weeks that were expected of a brand new associate, William Graham would occasionally stop by my office. He’d just ask me how things were going. But behind his stoic, wrinkled face, I could tell there was more to the question.

At a Christmas party one year, I introduced Jenny to him. He grabbed her hand and said, “You know that we think your husband is a star. I just hope we don’t burn him out too fast.”

It had meant a lot to me at the time. William Graham had called me a star. I had tried to explain it to Jenny. But she saw it very differently. While I heard “star,” she only heard “burn out.”

It was a Tuesday. I was rushing to get a report out to one of our largest clients. William Graham appeared in the doorway of my office. “Brian, let’s go to lunch.”

I stood and stared at him for a moment. Senior partners didn’t go out to lunch. There was always a deal to close, a new lead to chase, a trend in the markets that needed to be analyzed.

“I … I’ve got to get this report—”

“It’ll wait, Brian,” he said firmly. “Grab your coat. We’re going.”

We were seated at a corner table at a small Italian bistro. Without ever looking at the menu, William gave the waitress his order. She turned to me. “I’ll have the same,” I said as I handed her my menu.

“Brian, you know I’ve always valued what you bring to our company.”

I swallowed hard. “Thank you, sir.”

My brother-in-law is sick. Really sick.

It’s hard to know what to do. I’ve been watching Janet as she helps fill the role of both sister and mother. She is my hero. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen someone handle a terribly difficult situation so well.

Yesterday, she went down to visit him and planned out his funeral.

It has made me think a lot about life and relationships. The other day I found out someone I love and respect had a real problem with me. With the way I would act around him. With the things I would say. When this came out in the open, I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say. And of course like anyone, my first reaction was to get defensive.

But now I have to say that I’m happy that it came up. Life is too short to let differences drive us apart from the ones we love. Especially as I watch my brother-in-law slowly slip from this life. It will end too soon for him. And the reality is, it will end too soon for each one of us. But far too soon for us if we hold onto offenses or differences.

Let us choose to love. Let us choose to forgive. Let us choose to apologize and change when needed. Let us choose to give. Let us choose to never judge.