So, today is Renee’s birthday. I won’t tell you her age, but it’s no coincidence that this is a list of 45 of my favorite things (in no particular order) about her:
1. She’s beautiful.
2. She grew her hair long – and kept it long.
3. She married me.
4. She puts up with me.
5. She accepts me and all of my ‘things.’
6. She makes us better.
7. She is a fabulous mother.
8. She’d do anything for our kids.
9. She’s a great sister.
10. She makes her parents proud.
11. Her zesty rice lasagna.
12. Her chocolate chip cookies.
13. Her chili.
14. Her sweet rolls.
15. Her oatmeal bread.
16. She likes a good beer.
17. She always makes sure we have good beer in the fridge.
18. She makes an impact on her students.
19. She writes notes to her senior students.
20. She makes an impact on her colleagues.
21. She’s a great reader in church.
22. She’s much more patient than me.
23. She’s the one that fixes stuff.
24. She does the money.
25. She knows how much I value my friends.
26. She doesn’t care what concerts I go to.
27. She goes to Fenway with me once a year.
28. She makes sure we shovel out the mailbox.
29. She became a cross country coach and rocked it.
30. Speaking of rocking it, have you seen her in boots?
31. She understands my new found love of all things Disney.
32. At Christmas, she knows I will not rest until we find the perfect tree.
33. She’s old school where and when it matters.
34. Every now and then, she’ll bring me home a Diet Coke.
35. She doesn’t say anything about my messy closet or desk.
36. She gets the paper from the mailbox each morning.
37. She puts up with my fantasy baseball addiction.
38. She takes care of making sure we’ve got a sitter when we need it.
39. She usually lets me pick what we’re going to do.
40. She’s an awesome role model for Erin.
41. She’s reading Harry Potter with Aidan.
42. She is always thinking of others before herself.
43. She puts up with me (that’s worth mentioning twice).
44. She can name most of the Red Sox from the 70s and 80s.
45. All of the above.
Happy Birthday, Renee! Thanks for making every day better.
A lot of you know that I lost someone dear to me recently. My cousin, who is also my godfather, lost a five year battle with cancer last Tuesday. It’s an immeasurable loss not just for me, but for anyone who knew him.
What made this situation unique is that four years ago, Michael asked me to do something for him. He asked me to give his eulogy. But there was a catch. A big catch. He wanted to read it.
So, even though he died last week, I wrote his eulogy, per his request, four years ago. I gave it to him four years ago. And his closest friends and family heard it Saturday when I spoke at the funeral. Or, at least, I tried to speak. I probably read one-third of it. Renee, thankfully, was strong enough to help with the rest because I was such a wreck.
You may think it strange for me to post it here. But I don’t. He was such an influence on me. He is a big part of who I am. So, if you know me, then you know Michael. By sharing this, I just want you to know him a little better.
Writing a eulogy isn’t really a difficult thing. It’s simply an expression of feelings. Delivering it, however, is usually the challenging part. At least for me.
But what makes this eulogy unique is that Michael actually knows what I’m going to say. Yup. He’s heard it already. or, I should say, he’s read it already.
That was his request. And how could I deny it? Even though there’s an obvious discomfort in writing a eulogy for someone when that someone is, well, still alive.
Know, please, that part of the way Michael and I dealt with his sickness was with humor. So much, in fact, that when he first asked me to do this, it was election season. You all remember the radio and TV ads that we hear during an election season. Well, Michael, in his own way, wanted to put a special touch on this. While you can rest assured that we didn’t in fact do this, we laughed for quite a while at his idea of him recording a message that I would play at the end of this that says, “I’m Michael Keane, and I approved this message.”
Because he has read it, I know that he did approve it. And, honestly, I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Because, for most of my life, I have sought Michael’s approval on so many levels. I don’t know if he realized that or not, but it’s true.
Not only are we cousins, he’s my godfather. He’s my accountant. He’s my friend. He’s my travel agent. He’s who I go to for pretty much anything. In short, he’s my guy.
He’s heard me deliver eulogies to my brother and to my father – and he knows now, only because he’s read this – that neither of those are as difficult for me as this one.
But, this isn’t about me. This is about Michael. As it should be. And as it will be.
There simply has been no greater male influence in my life than Michael Keane. I don’t make that statement lightly. Yet, it’s true.
He’s been all of what I mentioned earlier. He’s been a big brother. He’s been a father figure. And he’s been so much more. So much that I can’t always find the right words.
He’s taught me more about the Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, BlackJack, Rotisserie Baseball, Vegas and good steak – among other things — than anyone.
Michael played fantasy baseball, so I had to play fantasy baseball.
Michael went to Vegas, so I had to go to Vegas.
Michael went on baseball junkets, so I had to go on baseball junkets.
His generosity was incredible. Never asking for a thing in return, yet always giving.
One time, I was at his house, admiring his new man cave in the basement and dreaming about the day I’d have the same set up. A week later, the phone rings.
“Michael,” He said.
“Yeah, hey, how’s it going?” I asked.
“Good” he said.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He told me: “Get yourself to the mall, go into Tweeter and give them your name.”
“Um, why?” I asked.
“Would you just go, please. Don’t ask questions.” And that was it.
So I go. And I give my name to the associate. He types something in to the computer, smiles and says, come this way.
“Seems like you’ve got someone who likes you,” he says and before I realize what he means, he’s telling me, “You get that, that and that.”
What do you mean, I get that, that and that i asked.
Well, it seems Mr. Keane has taken care of this for you.
After the shock wore off, and I got things home and hooked up, I called to thank him.
Don’t thank me, he said. Just enjoy it. Needless to say, that wasn’t going to be a problem. That was just his way. He didn’t need thanks. Knowing that someone would enjoy his generosity – at any level – was enough for him.
As I said, he was my guy. For everything. Trips, steak, Disney advice, financial advice. Anything. He was the first call I’d make. And he always made sense. Always pointed me in the right direction. He taught me so much. About everything. About life.
And along the way, he would always kid.
He’d say, You know, I wouldn’t have to buy you stuff if you were an accounting major in school. Yup, that was one of his favorites. I’m a PR man by trade and Michael couldn’t understand why I’d want to work with words instead of numbers.
Ironically, I’m standing here because he finally understood why.
As I mentioned, Michael heard me deliver two eulogies – first my Dad’s and most recently my brother’s. After Tim’s funeral, family was gathering outside the church. I was still a wreck. Michael hugged me. Well, not really, but he put his arm around me to comfort me and for us, well, i think that was a hug. Whatever it was, it worked for me.
That wasn’t the most important part. It was what he said that I’ll never forget.
He said, “Now I understand why you do what you do. You have a gift.”
Not that I was seeking his approval, but it sure felt good to get it.
Whom I kidding? Of course, I was seeking his approval.
Which leads me to his request that I write his eulogy – before he died.
No pressure or anything. Not to sound weird, but normally, there wouldn’t be. It’s not like the person being eulogized typically knows what is being said about him.
Just the opposite in this case. He does know. Which brings the pressure.
He asked me to do this and he wanted to read it. Once I gave it to him, in a sealed envelope, I couldn’t help but think — What if I disappointed him? How could it possibly be good enough compared to all he’s done for me? After all, these are just words.
Well, I’m here, so I have to assume that it was good enough for him. In fact, as strange as it seems, maybe writing a eulogy for someone before they die isn’t such a bad idea. After all, in an Irish-Catholic family like ours, it’s not like we make a habit of actually sharing our feelings.
So, in a strange sense, for me, if there is one good thing that came out of Michael getting sick, it’s that I was finally able to tell him just how much he means to me.
Just how much he influences my life.
Just how much I love him.
And, because of that, I can’t tell you how much it means to me to know that he has, in fact, approved this message.
Maybe it’s because I’m listening — like right now — to the Train song Bruises.
Maybe it’s because my sister posted a couple of old pictures tonight.
Maybe it’s because I’ll be seeing some great life-long friends in about 10 days.
Or, maybe it’s just because I’m, well, a sap. An absolutely positively sentimental sap.
Whatever it is, it’s got me thinking back. I do it a lot, I suppose. Probably more than you do. Maybe not. But probably. Sometimes I do it even more than I realize.
But, really, it’s a good thing to look back. Why? Simple, I think. Looking back helps you figure out where you came from. Knowing where you came from can help you figure out where you’re going. At least I think it can. Or, at least I think it should.
The friends I had then (many of whom I still have) helped build who I am. They (you) must have done something right, because I have always been blessed with an amazing group of friends — new or old. But, I credit that to the friends I grew up with. Those relationships, some of which remain so strong, no doubt have an impact on relationships I have today.
Today, for example, I had lunch with a friend. A ‘newer’ friend, I suppose. Kids went to preschool together. Ran into each other from time to time. Never really hung out, but just good people. Then, this friend becomes friends with another friend. The circle expands. And, at least in this case, as the overall circle gets bigger, the bond gets tighter. And when that happens, it’s fabulous.
I work with amazing people, too. Not just for what they do. But for who they are. Some of them, I believe, are lifelong friends — even though I’ve only known them for a couple years. Is this because of sharing a common bond at work? Maybe. Is it because of me? Well, you’d have a hard time convincing me of that. Rather, I think it has to do with people I grew up with. People I shared the early years with. People that let me be who I am. Having that core, I think, is what makes the cycle continuous.
I guess my point is, if I hadn’t had such a great group of friends early on, would I have had great friends in high school? If I hadn’t had great friends in high school, would I have had them in college? If I didn’t have them in college, would I have them now? Or, more importantly, would I have the ability to have them now?
Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about that too much. Because, for whatever reason, I do have them. And I’m crazy blessed to say I’ve always had them. And to say that I’ve been able to keep them. Not all of them. But the strongest ones. The most important ones.
I don’t always understand why many of them are female, but I guess that’s a blog for another day. And wouldn’t that be nice, like if I actually came back to this on a regular basis. I digress….
Some of it, too, is about not just people, but shared experiences. You don’t necessarily have to be super tight with someone right away. But, when you discover a shared experience or theme, that can often times strengthen the bond to one that you’ll never want to end. Why? Because of that connection. I can think of two people in particular that way for me. The point is, there are a number of ways that a friendship can be strong — new or old.
And, there are a number of ways a friendship can grow — new or old. I guess that’s the point of this. And, from there, the most important thing, at least to me, is knowing how to maintain the friendships that have those bonds — or shared experiences — that are so strong.
Is any of this making sense?
But, come on, you’ve had those moments, too. Moments where you hear an old song, see an old picture, anything. Anything that brings you back — often times right to a particular person or a particular moment. And it doesn’t always have to be about that type of ‘relationship’ — it can be about anything. It just has to connect you back. It has to bring back good memories and good thoughts. Of good people. With good people.
Some recent examples…because clearly what I’m explaining isn’t really working — or maybe it is?
Just tonight, while I was writing this, in fact, a Facebook friend made a comment on a picture of my Dad. That brought me back — instantly — to a certain place. A certain time. And, more importantly, to certain people. Am I still tight with all of them? No. But I am with some. Shared experiences. Great bonds. Great friends.
For Halloween, we typically take our kids trick-or-treating where I went as a kid. I’m really happy for the kids to get out and have a great experience. But, with every step, I’m thinking back to when I went to those same houses and, in some cases, to the same people in the same houses. I would try to explain this during the walk, but the kids are too focused on candy. But, again, brought back to a certain place. A certain time. And, more importantly, to certain people.
A couple of weeks ago, someone I used to work with sent a Facebook message to me and another colleague. In the message, she talked about being sentimental and thinking back to our time working together. Could we get together, she asked. I certainly hope so. Because, if we do, we go back to a certain place. A certain time. With certain people.
I saw another post on Facebook. From a friend I’ve known since first grade. We went to grade school together, but not the same high school. It doesn’t matter. It’s the strength of the bond. He’s going to be home for Thanksgiving. We’ve talked about maybe grabbing a beer with a couple of others. I hope we do. Because if it works, we go back to a certain place. A certain time. With certain people.
That same weekend, there’s a casual 25th class reunion happening. That’s put me in touch with a lot of people. A few of whom are some of my dearest friends. Do we see each other all the time? No. Do we have to? No. That’s part of the beauty of it. The bond growing up was so strong — it sort of transcends the need for that. I’m beyond looking forward to spending time with these people in a few days. Why? Because we go back to a certain place. A certain time. With certain people.
There’s another person who is going to read this blog and thank me for writing. This person is going to tell me that he loves reading what I write. He’s going to tell me that it helped him — or someone. He’s going to tell me I should keep writing. Now, I worked with this person — sort of — for a while. We weren’t overly connected — until we discovered a shared experience. An experience neither of us would wish on anyone. But, we’ve got it. And that’s what matters. Does that take me back to a certain place? A certain time? Sure it does. It’s different, but the fact is, the impact is the same. And that’s what’s important. Strong and impactful relationships. I haven’t seen this person in I can’t even remember how many years. Five? Six? More? And I don’t have any plans to see him in the future either. Point is, there’s a bond and a friendship that’s not going away — regardless of anything. I just think that’s cool.
Every Thanksgiving, I think back to high school. Our school was full of tradition. It was such a special time. I am truly grateful for having been part of the experience. But, it’s an experience that I went through with special people. That’s what makes it even better. That’s what takes me back. So, with this reunion thing coming up, I’m a little more sensitive to it than usual. Then, add in the fact that I’m at a Cheap Trick concert the other night and they play The Flame. Well, that came out during high school. And, one of my friends, sends a message about it just as they start playing it. It was kind of weird. But good weird. Why? Because it brought me back to a certain place. A certain time. With certain people.
A friend I’ve know for only a few years is having a hard time dealing with something. I’ve dealt with the same thing. So it helps. I can share some thoughts. Help give some perspective. Be a good friend.
I guess that’s really what this is about. Having good friends and being a good friend.
There’s no doubt I have good friends. Being a good friend? Well, that’s something I take very seriously. And I guess I take it so seriously to let people I know how much I appreciate their friendship and what they’ve done for me.
And, so, it really is pretty easy. For me, being a good friend is a way of saying thanks to all who have not only done the same for me, but whose friendships have actually made me who I am.
(The real thanks goes to those of you who actually made it to the end of this! Haven’t blogged in forever. Maybe this gets me going….)
I should have written this a month ago. But, can’t change that. So, here we go.
It was Christmas morning. The presents were open. The kids were ecstatic. The tree looked awesome. Renee and I were amazed that it was ‘over’ so quickly, but still enjoying the joy coming from Aidan and Erin.
We were in church, waiting for Mass to begin. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Yes, I checked it. Guilty as charged. But, I was glad I did. Because this is the message I found sent to me via Facebook:
Hope you are having a great Christmas with you and your family! Just thought you should know….the cap on my tooth from your baseball throw many years ago in your backyard fell off today! While eating twizzlers – just brought back a memory of a good time in my life.
Instant smile. Instant flashback. The message, obviously, was from someone that I’ve known most of my life. For so long, in fact, I’m not even sure when he and I first met. Probably when we were seven or eight? I’m not really sure. And it doesn’t really matter. Fact is, it was a message from a lifelong friend.
Sure, we are nowhere near as close as those days of playing together every day. Basketball, bikes, swimming, baseball cards, touch football. Every thing.
Bonds like that never go away, right? Sure, sometimes you may lose touch with someone over time. But it doesn’t mean you aren’t friends anymore. Maybe sometimes it does. But not in this case. Too much history — most all of it good — to change anything. Friends for life. Maybe not every day friends like in the past. But friends for life. Nothing changes there.
We’ve all got friends like that — on multiple levels, based on whenever we first encounter those friends. While this friend and I go way back, probably 35 years, I’ve got new friends within the past five years that I would also proudly call friends for life. Make sense?
So, this all got me thinking. First, how cool it was to just get that message. That this friend thought enough to send it along. Something to simple now, but such an issue back then. Something that is just another way we are connected. Always a story. He shared it because he knew I’d appreciate it. And he was right. And, it was a good time in my life, too. A much simpler, a much easier time.
The next thing I thought about was my kids. Aidan will be 9 in a few months, Erin will be 6 not too far behind him.
I remember those ages — and, more importantly, I remember the people I knew then, some of whom are still very dear friends. I mean, there are people I’ve known since kindergarten (Erin’s class) that I’m still friends with. There are kids from third grade (Aidan’s class) that I’m still tight with, and there are some that I’m ‘Facebook’ friends with. Fact is, the friendship is still there — to some degree.
So, as I look at the kids today and see how they interact with their friends, I can’t help but wonder. In 30 years, will Aidan still be close to some of the kids he’s friends with now? What about Erin?
I think, honestly, that there are some friends they have now that will be with them for a while. And part of that is because they go to a Catholic school, like I did. When you are with a group of people for so long, you can’t help but establish a bond — right Amy, Amy, Mark, Luke and Patrick? And, then if someone new comes in, you establish a bond quickly with them, too, — right Amy, Andrea and Erin? And, if someone starts with you and leaves for another place, you are also still connected, right Ryan, Laura and Michele?
What’s my point? I’m not really sure. I guess I just hope that my kids are blessed with the same type of friendships that I’m beyond blessed with.
Despite what some people think, I don’t ‘know everyone.’ I’ve always been guarded with my friendship. Not letting people in, per se, until I’m comfortable enough to share. It’s not about quantity, it’s about quality. I said it before, I’m probably one of the shyest people you’ll ever meet — until I’m comfortable. Then I open up.
That’s like Aidan. He’s so reserved and so quiet. Not one to jump right into a situation, but once he does, he’s often fine and with no trouble at all. Erin, on the other hand, is much more of a free spirit. I guess I have that in me, too. So, it seems right that I am their father!
I hope they continue to develop bonds with their friends. I hope that I hear the names Andrew, Patrick, Grover, Charlie, Noah, Julia, Katelyn, Kailani, Julianna and Ava for a long, long time.
And, in 30 years or so, I hope Aidan or Erin get the same type of Christmas morning message that I got. From a friend. A lifelong friend. And I hope that message is like mine was — that it was a good time, for both of us. But, more importantly, that we are still friends, to this day.
For those of you that were at a wedding 18 years ago today, you probably remember the groom sobbed continuously — like a baby.
For those of you that weren’t at that wedding, here’s something you should know.
That groom was me.
I was crying for one simple reason. Tears of joy, if you will, that there was someone in the world who picked me as the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
That someone, of course, is Renee.
So here it is, our anniversary. Our 18th anniversary. And she’s not here. She and the kids are still in Florida, finishing up a visit with her family. Not sure what to give her for a present then. I’ve always got words and thoughts inside me. Always.
So, why not give those.
In some of our most challenging moments, I told Renee that I needed to work harder to make sure that she didn’t learn new things about me on this blog. In my darkest times, this was the place where I could come and just say anything. It still is. But you get my point. I hope.
This time, however, because Renee isn’t here on our actual anniversary, she will be learning something about me on this blog. The biggest thing she’ll be learning?
This is her present! :)
Well, not really. She’ll get that when she comes home.
No, what I hope she learns today is that there’s a simple reason why I was crying 18 years ago.
It’s mostly because I couldn’t believe I was in that situation. That someone would really ‘pick’ me.
I still have a hard time with it. Why?
Because she’s better than me. Always has been. Probably always will be.
You might find this hard to believe, but I’m not an easy person to live with. For a lot of reasons. I’m stubborn beyond all measure. I’m set in my ways (same thing?). I’m crazy opinionated. I believe my way is the right way. And, my biggest challenge, I’m not always open.
That’s why Renee did learn things here. Because I had a hard time opening up as much as I should. I don’t know why. But it’s true.
A few years ago, I went through the darkest part of my life — dealing with the loss of my brother and finally — truly — dealing with the loss of my father. This has been well documented here. But the person who dealt with this the most? Yeah, Renee.
She dealt with me pulling back. She dealt with my doubts. About a lot of things. And, all the while, she kept doing everything that she does that makes us better. And, by that, I mean makes me better.
And during that time, I didn’t make it easy on her. I didn’t make it easy on anyone. But especially her.
The best thing she did? She let me figure it out. And I did.
It took awhile. But I did.
And I’m better for it now. She’s better for it now. We’re better for it now.
That’s because the two of us figured out some things, too. And, more importantly, we figured them out together.
You might think I’m the most open person in the world. Sometimes I am. And sometimes I pull back — or hold back. I’m trying to change that.
But there has been change. Change for the better. I was in a dark place. And I’m not there anymore.
And that’s a good thing.
Because there’s someone here that let me figure that all out.
So that’s why I was crying 18 years ago.
Because I wasn’t sure I could live up to my end of the deal, like I knew she would live up to hers.
She deserves so much. Probably more than I can ever give her.
So I’m going to try harder.
Because she picked me.
Things happen in threes, right?
Well, here’s an interesting one for you. The story of how three men — gone from this world, at least physically — continue to make their presence known to those they’ve left behind.
What’s the connection here, you ask? You know, the part of how I mentioned things happen in threes. So, here goes.
As I write this, it’s the fifth anniversary of my brother Tim’s passing. Still so hard in some regard — yet getting better. If that makes sense.
Regular readers know how much this threw me. Absolutely threw me — to the point, really, of needing to talk to someone about it. A professional someone. That really helped.
How do I make sense of it? Well, I stopped doing that. And that’s the key. I don’t understand. I never will. But I’ve stopped trying to understand — because that’s part of what was killing me. Point is, I try to keep his memory alive through my daily life whenever I can — and with the kids through prayers and stories and pictures.
It’s always hard around Erin’s birthday because of the closeness to it all — but it just goes to remind me how incredibly blessed we were to have her at that time — when the world was so dark, there was one little light shining. And, well, she still does.
And so does he.
So that’s one. But that’s the one you’ve know about from before.
A friend of mine lost his brother earlier this week. The good news is the suffering is over. This man battled cancer until it took every bit of his fight. My friend is haivng a hard time — who doesn’t when you lose a big brother?
I tried to share with him the ‘expertise’ I have — but I’m not sure it helped. What has helped, no doubt, is the outpouring of emotion my friend has seen as people have responded to his brother’s death.
I guess you could say he’s somewhat of a local celebrity. He was known by many — respected by them all. So my friend has that going for him — seeing how much his brother has impacted not just him, but — literally — thousands of others.
I tried to tell my friend to enjoy that part of it. To see what an impact his brother had on people. And he certainly did.
I remember when Tim died, how I was completely blown away in learning about his work life — and hearing directly from those people about how he influenced them.
That’s what I hope for my friend. That he continues to see how much his brother influenced so many. And that through that influence, his brother lives on, not just in their lives, but in his.
So, between my brother and my friend’s brother, that’s two death anniversaries within the same week — one ‘fresh’ and one five years.
Here’s the third — also with a death anniversary within just a few days of the other two — yet this person has been dead for 25 years — which is damn near impossible to comprehend.
I didn’t know my friend’s brother that just died, but I certainly knew of him.
This person, who died 25 years ago, I did know. He was a friend. Our familes were close — and always will be, to some extent. That’s what growing up in a small town does.
I remember being at their house plenty of times, playing all sorts of things. And I remember my friend and his sister and brother being at our house and swimming in our pool.
I remember going to high school and being one year behind my friend. I remember how good of a musician he was. And I swear if I think hard enough, I can still remember the sound of his voice. The smile on his face is a given.
He died just before his high school graduation. A sad, sad situation for all involved.
So where, possibly, could be the good in this?
It’s simple, really.
Twenty five years later, he still lives on in the hearts of people who knew him. Who were his friends.
No. Who ARE his friends. Death doesn’t break a friendship.
The younger brother of my friend posted something about the 25th anniversary on facebook. The comments were incredible. Because that’s what happens.
People don’t forget. I’m sorry, but they don’t.
They might not always talk about someone, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t thinking about them. And when they do, the stories that are shared are so precious — and always remembered so vividly.
So here we’ve talked about three men who are dead — less than a week, five years ago and 25 years ago.
And, yet, they are alive — and are being kept alive.
And that’s what’s so important in life.
That people who have influenced, continue to influence. Those around them. And those who loved them.
The way to do that? The way to help me and my friends who have lost their brothers?
To share stories, if you have them. To understand that we want to know what you remember — no matter what it is.
We want our brothers to continue influencing those who they were close to. And in these three situations, that’s totally the case.
And that’s a beautiful thing.
I’m headed back to Disney World this summer for the first time in, well, a long time. More than 35 years, in fact.
Summer of ’76 — Bob and Jackie packed the four of us up in the station wagon and we headed due south. Next stop, the Magic Kingdom. Since that trip, I’ve done Epcot and Universal, but I’ve never been back to the Magic Kingdom.
I don’t have many memories from that trip. And, those that I do have are more centered on the actual trip itself — the stories that a family travelling in a station wagon are destined to have forever.
One of the few memories I have of the actual Magic Kingdom revolve around the “It’s a Small World” ride. I don’t remember it for a great ride. Rather, I remember it for the annoying song that I can still hear in my head — as if I was six-year-old on the ride today.
The point, in case you’re trying to figure this out, is that Walt Disney was right.
It really is a small world.
And, the thing that’s happening now is this — as I get older, the world gets smaller.
At first, I wasn’t a big fan of this notion. Well, both notions, actually – that I’m getting older and that the world is getting smaller.
I can’t fight the age thing, obviously. Though if I could, I certainly would.
But the getting smaller part? I’m a lot more open to this than I would have been just a couple of years ago. Those that know me best, know that I’m actually more shy than social. Hard to believe for some, but 100 percent true.
When I’m in a new situation and/or environment, there are typically two things that help me ‘loosen’ up and become more of my self.
The first usually take the longest. It’s simply a matter of me feeling comfortable in the situation/environment. That could be just becoming more comfortable in the physical space or, more likely, taking my time to get to know new people before letting them know more about me. Before really letting them ‘in.’ Once in, it’s a different story. But it takes a while for me to let someone in. Always has.
The second part of this can get me to my comfort level faster. That’s finding out that, in this new situation/environment, that I actually have a connection with someone there. Usually, you don’t know that connection exists. Maybe it gets discovered in a meeting. Maybe it gets discovered in casual small talk. Either way, when it does, it makes, at least me, anyway, much more comfortable.
Sometimes, that connection is short-term, but it still has a huge impact. One of my previous posts addresses just that situation when I made a deep connection with someone who knew my Dad. I didn’t expect the connection to happen at all — and it came about only through small talk. And thankfully it did, because I still remember that moment fondly. And I know I always will.
Other times, it’s more long-term. And that’s more likely with friends and co-workers. With friends, it’s that no matter how long it’s been since you’ve communicated, you’ve always got some connection. It doesn’t matter how your life has changed, there’s always something there to bring you back — if you wish. For me, there are two situations here that I don’t want to be brought back. I’ve been hurt enough to want that. However, I can acknowledge that if that ever changed, there’s enough in the background (enough of a connection) to at least have a starting point.
With co-workers, it’s a little more challenging — at least for me. But the beauty of this is when you find the connection, the relationship often times goes from colleague to friend. And that’s what’s cool. My workplace employs nearly 3,000 people. I figured it wouldn’t take too long to make some of these connections. And, well, I was right. Start the conversations strictly about work. Get more comfortable. Learn more and discover a connection — whatever it is. It’s a great feeling when it happens. Because it just means you’ve not only gained the trust of a colleague, you’ve gained the trust of a friend.
And, in the grand scheme of things, there aren’t many things that trump the trust of a friend. That’s always been part of my thing, too. While I don’t necessarily hang in big circles, I do hang in tight circles.
The point of this mess is simple. What’s not simple is how I’ve gone on trying to explain it.
As I get older, the world is becoming smaller. There are more connections. And that’s a good thing. Particularly for someone like me, who doesn’t have any easy time otherwise — believe it or not.
Sometimes, those connections are more — and this isn’t the right word — emotional. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to make a connection with someone because you know some of the same people. You can make a connection because of a shared experience, for example. Does that make sense? I hope so.
In that sense, the world becomes smaller because you discover you, believe it or not, aren’t the only one going through something.
The other side of it, though, is making a connection because you do know certain people that someone else knows. You find common ground. In other words, the world gets smaller. There are more connections. There are more shared experiences. It makes sense when you think about it. Person A knows 100 people. Person B knows 100 people. Person A doesn’t necessarily know Person B. However, when they do have a chance to meet, they discover common connections — and that gets the ball rolling.
Usually, at least for me, if the ball gets rolling, good things happen. And, when good things happen, it all ties back to what Walt Disney said years go.
It’s a small world, after all.