Category Archives: Freestyle Writings/Musings

I’m a Brat

“Being raised as a military brat has a way of making things blur together, simply because of how often you have to move. Friends come and go, clothing is packed and unpacked, households are continually purged of unnecessary items, and as a result, not much sticks. It’s hard at times, but it makes a kid strong in ways that most people can’t understand. Teaches them that even though people are left behind, new ones will inevitably take their place; that every place has something good – and bad – to offer. It makes a kid grow up fast.”
– Nicholas Sparks “The Lucky One”

I’m a military brat.

Most people who know me know this about me.  But some of you who have come into my life more recently may not.  (And, oh yeah, all my new blog followers who I don’t know from Adam don’t know that either – Hi Strangers! Sometimes I still forget you’re there.  Thanks for reading!)  My step-dad was in the Army from the time I was 8 years old.  We started moving when I was in the 4th grade and never stopped.  From 4th grade through 12th grade, I attended 8 different schools located in 4 different states and 2 different countries.  I graduated high school in Giessen, Germany with a grand total of 21 other graduates.  (1996, baby. Go Griffins!  Represent!)  Ok, enough of that.

Sometimes I think I forget what a profound effect my childhood had on me.  At the time, I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to a person.  Being dragged from here to there – having to say goodbye to friends and family sometimes at the drop of a hat – never feeling ‘stability’ or ‘roots.’  Yes, if you asked my teenage self, I would have told you that I had the worst parents in the world and no one could have had a worse childhood than mine.

Well, that brat grew up.  And now she knows better.

I have something that most people don’t have.  Rather than having one set of roots in one location – I have roots everywhere.  I’ve seen this comic before and it always makes me chuckle:

militarybrat2

I honestly remember when my answer to that question used to be, “I’m from nowhere.”  But I’ve amended that as I have gotten older.  I’m not from “nowhere.”  I’m from “everywhere!”  I have friends scattered all across this world.  Not just this country – this world.  I have links and ties to so many people from so many races, cultures and walks of life that I feel like a chameleon myself at times.  And that’s awesome.

But where am I now? 

Sigh. 

Now I’m stuck in a military brat’s nightmare.  I live in a tiny small town in the middle of nowhere.  Where everyone here has lived here their whole lives and everyone knows everyone and their business and their momma’s business and their second cousin twice-removed’s business.  It’s tough.  And one day I’ll make my escape.  But in the meantime, even though I may stick out like sore thumb and feel like a fish out of water at times, I am safe in the knowledge that who I am has not changed and has not molded to fit my surroundings.  I may be different, but I’m me.  And that won’t change.  And part of being ‘me’ means that I can handle a lot of crap.  People may come and go, but I remain steady.  I remain me. 

Because of my upbringing and my ability to adapt, I have become a pro at handling change.  You want to leave my life?  Go.  I’ll cry for a while, I’m not heartless.  But I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off, and realize that when one leaves, another takes their place.  I’m not saying that some don’t hold special places in your life.  They do.  Some spots are always reserved for certain special people.  But I always know that I’m not going to be alone, and that that empty spot can be smoothed over with the laughter and love from new friends, new places, new activities, etc.  When one thing leaves, another will take its place.  Always. 

It’s the military brat creed. 

Hooah.

militarybrat

 

 

1,000 Views

1000blog

My blog hit 1,000 views today.

1,000 views.  Wow.

(Granted, I could have just one fan out there who has read this stuff 1,000 times.  And if so, thank you, crazy person.)

But seriously, I do want to thank each and every one of you who have taken the time to read this mess.  Like Ernest Hemingway put it, “There is nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”  There’s more truth to that than many people may realize. 

A friend of mine recently passed away.  The last conversation I had with her – in fact the very last thing she ever said to me before she passed – was in relation to my blog.  She said, “I admire that you put yourself out there like you do.  I have trouble showing vulnerability like that.”  That has stayed in my mind and I’ve thought about that many times since she has been gone.  I’ve asked myself if this is something that I really should be doing – should I be writing this stuff?  Should I lay my heart out on my sleeve like I do and show people how flawed, sad, happy, terrified, proud, crazy, and just plain human I really am?

And all I keep coming back to is…yes.  Yes, I should. 

Because one thousand views later, I’m thinking there may be something in here that resonates with others too.  Maybe I’m not so different than other people, after all.  Maybe I’m just more willing to put myself on public display.

And I wonder why that is?  What makes me so darn willing to do that?

Maybe it all just comes down to this.  Georgia O’Keefe said it best, I think, when she said, “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life, and I’ve never let it stop me from doing a single thing that I’ve wanted to do.” 

That is me.

I’m a risk taker.  I know that I only get one go-around and I figure I might as well live while I’m here.  If you know me, you know I’m also an actress.  I’ve been regularly acting since I was a teenager.  And in all those years, there has still never been one single opening moment in a show that I haven’t had butterflies in my stomach and felt my hands shaking so bad I was afraid the audience would notice.  And hitting the “publish” button on this blog every time I write something evokes that exact same response.  It’s absolutely terrifying to lay yourself out there for the world to see.  To “bleed” as Hemingway put it.  But it’s necessary.  I can’t rest until I do.  I can’t feel like I’m me until I’ve said what I need to say and allowed this creativity inside me to come out in some form of expression – whether it be in a performance or in written word.  It has to escape.  I have no choice.

And I thank each and every one reading this now for your acceptance of that.  Because, really, without an “audience,” why perform?  Thank you for being there.

And I especially want to send a special shout-out to my biggest fan of all: my mom.  She doesn’t have a computer and has never actually seen this site.  But I print out every single one of them and mail them to her.  And she provides me with such positive feedback that it makes me feel like I can do anything I ever wanted to do.

“The whole motivation for any performer is ‘Look at me, Ma.'” – Lenny Bruce

So, thanks for looking, Ma.

Thank you all.  I look forward to watching this blog continue to grow and expand and hope each of you continue to come along for the ride.  It would be awfully lonely without you.

Waiting

(I wrote this years ago, but find it interesting that I feel exactly the same right now.  I guess it’s true that history really does repeat itself .)

waiting

WAITING

I am sitting here.

Alone in the dark with only a small lamp to my left to illuminate the blank pages before me. It is 5:00 a.m.
I like to imagine that I am the only one awake for miles. That the rest of the world is asleep while I sit here with my thoughts.

The rain falls steadily outside my window. The monotonous drip drop, drip drop on the tin roof above my porch should be soothing. Comforting.

But it is not.
For I am not safe.

Safe from physical harm – yes. Safe from the wind and the cold and Dangers that may (or may not) lie outside the locked front door beside me. Safe from all the Dangers that one might see and feel and touch. No, my Fear is something deeper. Unseen. Untouched.

My fear is of Myself.

Why am I so uneasy? Unsatisfied? Why is this seemingly harmless life around me suddenly frightening? What changed? Who is this Stranger creeping her way into my home and into my heart and mind? Who is this woman emerging from the young girl whom I had just recently – finally – come to recognize? What are these feelings I’ve discovered living inside of me? Inside of me! All this time, where have They been?

Where They sitting there laughing hysterically at this young fool pretending to be someone she is not?

Or were They just waiting patiently? Patiently.
For me to be ready.
For Acceptance.
For Realization.

And what do I do now?
What do you do when you are torn between who you are . . . and who you are meant to be?

Are the Answers inside of me?
Were They neighbors to my Feelings?
Will I soon meet Them as well?
Are They, too, waiting? For Acceptance?
For Realization?

For Change?

Just Do It

“Either you run the day or the day runs you.”
– Jim Rohn

The following is an excerpt from my personal blog – April 20, 2012:

“So it’s really been on my mind lately to start running.  I don’t know why really. It just seems that I’ve been more aware of runners lately. I see them on the street when I’m on my way to work and the thought crosses my mind, “I wish I was them.” I’m out of shape and lazy..which are probably going to be pretty big obstacles in the way of my becoming a runner. But who knows…maybe I can work on that. The thing that appeals to me most is the peace of mind that runners seem to have. I hear so many of them talk about how it clears your mind and helps you forget about the rest of the world while you’re running. Boy do I need that. Anything that can shut this brain up would be a more than welcome addition to my life…”

Wow.  And here I am beginning my second week of a ten-week training plan for a half marathon two months from today.  Crazy, man.  I’m tellin’ ya.

See?  It all starts with just a little thought. (A little thought that I was lucky enough to have written down to be able to go back and look at.) Just one little inkling of a dream.  And then you take that first step out the door, and suddenly that dream is not only coming true, but it starts snowballing and multiplying into bigger and better dreams.  Not just with running – this applies to anything.  If you really want something – you make it happen.  It’s as easy as that.  It’s not a quick fix and it doesn’t happen overnight.  But it happens – and that first step is saying that you want it.  Like I did.

Is there something you’re thinking of doing?  Something maybe that you need to do?  Some little inkling of a dream in there somewhere?  Write it down.  Do it.  Right now.  Get a pen and a piece of paper and write it down.  Then hide it somewhere.  Put it in your wallet – in the glovebox of your car – in a drawer on your bedside table.  Just do it.

And then tell yourself that you can make it happen.  Tell yourself every single day.  Start taking baby steps and make your way towards it.  Every day take one more step – make one more small change, one more small choice towards making it happen.  Even if it’s just opening that drawer and reading it again as a reminder.  Just tell yourself it’s going to happen, and it will.

And it will change you.  I promise.

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What if?

bekind

My heart is heavy this morning.

One of my facebook friends (someone who I just had a notable interaction with last week – and who inspired one of my blogs), passed away yesterday.  And from what I understand, she passed away from circumstances (possibly accidental) that resulted in her ending her own life.

(Now, let me just stop here.  I do sometimes think that I shouldn’t blog about something this serious.  But, as I said when I first started this blog and put in my “About My Junk” section that describes this page, this is going to be a “blog about life.”  This is part of life.  And that’s what this entry is going to be about. Life.)

Whether you know a person well or not, when you hear news like this it tends to stop you in your tracks. It makes you look around your own world and ‘take stock,’ so to speak.  It makes you value each and every breath your body is taking in and exhaling out.  It makes you want to grab everyone you love and tell them so.  It makes you want to grab strangers on the street and tell them that they’re loved.  It makes you want to fall down on your knees and thank your God for another day on this earth.

And if it doesn’t make you feel all those things – well, it should.

And you know what else it should make you do?  It should make you be kind to people.  All people.

How do you know that you wouldn’t be that one smiling face that someone would have needed to see – that you wouldn’t hold that one kind word that someone might have needed to hear?

Yesterday I got into an argument with a stranger in the middle of the street. Nope – not kidding.  True story.  It was over who had the right of way when we almost hit each other.  Now, granted – this  person started getting testy with me first (I’m not generally a ‘road rage’ kind of gal), but I could have easily just apologized profusely, smiled, and went on with my day.  But nope.  In typical Melissa fashion, I argued my point and both of us ‘left the scene’ in anger.  And until today, it really hadn’t crossed my mind again.

But now – here it is.

I don’t even know that person!  What if?  You know?  What if that person was just coming home from a funeral?  A chemo treatment?  Taking care of an aging parent?  A dying relative?  What if they had a drug  problem?  An alcohol problem?  What if…

What if they were on their way home to end it all?  What if I could have given the one smile – the one kind word – that would have changed that?

Dramatic?  Maybe.

Maybe not.

What if you, unknowingly, have been the last person someone interacted with before they were gone?  Let that sink in for a minute.

Now, I’m not saying that there should be guilt or that you could have changed anything.  But what if your face – your attitude – was the last display of humanity that someone ever witnessed?

Ouch.

I’m not preaching here.  By no means.  These blog entries are just as much for me as they are for anyone else.  I just know that I need to do better.  Do you?

My heart goes out to the family and friends during this loss.  I know their next few days will be filled with confusion and grief beyond anything they’ve ever known.  I happen to know a little bit about the subject myself.

In closing, I want to post a poem I wrote on another sad March day a few years ago when our family went through this kind of loss.

Poem for Mike
I sat down with pen and paper
To pour out this grief I feel
To try to find the rhyme and reason
And to make this all seem real.
But I just cannot find the words
To move this useless pen
No poem or song could ever explain
Why your life had to end.
What phrase could mend these broken hearts-
What rhyme could make sense of it all?
The pain is too large to comprehend
And my words – they are too small.
I hope you have found that peace, my friend-
That illusion you were seeking to find
While the remaining trudge through the confusion
In this world you’ve left behind.

Hold on to each other tight, folks.  Reach out.  Know what you have.  Look around you – and know it.  Feel it.  Appreciate it.

We truly are the lucky ones.

Secret Weapon

“Our running shoes are really erasers. Every step erases a memory of a past failure. Every mile brings us closer to a clean slate. Each foot strike rubs away a word, a look, or an event that led us to believe that success was beyond our grasp.”
– John Bingham 

Today is March 1. The beginning of the dreaded month of March.  *Sigh*

March and I have issues that go way back.  For some reason, it seems that notable negative things always seem to happen in my life in this particular month.  And every year I brace myself once again for what seems to inevitably be in store for me.  And even if nothing in particular ends up happening, the awful month still looms there, filled with unwanted anniversaries from the past.

But not this year.  This year is different.  This year I have a secret weapon.  Or, as John Bingham likes to call them – erasers.

This March, I’m a runner.

I started running in April of last year, so March will be the end of a full year of running.  I hate to sound like I’m patting myself on the back here, but I am so freakin’ proud of me.  As someone who has very little patience, running has taught me that the best things sometimes really do take time.  I, like most people, want what I want and I want it NOW.  That is not an option in running.   Running requires patience.  In fact, it demands it.  It’s an endless process of slow, arduous transformation.  And the more I run, the more I realize that process doesn’t just apply to my leg muscles.  It’s a transformation of your mind.  It’s a realization that you really are capable of great things, if you’ll only put forth the time and effort required.  Little by little, day by day.

“Running is about the slow and painful process of being the best you can be. That’s why the first step out the door is always so hard.  That’s when we choose between settling for average and being a superhero version of ourselves.”
– Martin Dugard

I didn’t realize it at the time, but in April of 2012, I made the choice to be a superhero version of myself.  And I continue to make that choice over and over again every time I lace up.

So, you know what?  Bring it on, silly ol’ March.  There’s nothing you can do to me anymore.  I’m a superhero now.

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“My runs always remind me of what life is; always putting one foot in front of the other, even when I’m exhausted. It’s about running up the hill, however daunting, and congratulating myself for not stopping. Life, like running, is about getting up and pushing on ahead, even if I’ve tripped on a pothole. It’s about keeping the rhythm and setting a pace. It’s about minding my injuries and allowing myself time to heal, but not letting injuries get the best of me. Running is like life; it is a glorious, albeit sometimes painful, act of always moving forward.”
– Luci L. Creery

Passion

passion

“Passion is energy. Feel the power that comes from focusing on what excites you.”
– Oprah Winfrey

Passion.

Don’t you just love that word?  Just saying it makes me happy.

(And no, I’m not getting ready to blog about romantic passion.  Blech.  If you noticed a few blogs ago, I’m checking that crap at the door for a while.)

No, this blog is about the good stuff.  Real passion.  Lasting passion.  The kind that once you truly discover it and recognize it, never ever goes away.  (Quite UN-like romantic passion, actually).  You can silence it at times, maybe even ignore it for a while, but it’s not gone.  Ever.  It’s always there waiting for you to pay attention to it, and to act on it.  And somehow you’re never truly satisfied until you do.

I’m talking about the things that move you.  The things that when you’re doing them, you’re transported away from everything else.  Other problems take a hike, and for a brief moment in time, you are fully and completely…YOU.

About a month ago, when I was going through some of the hardest, darkest times of my recent breakup and accompanying issues, I woke up one morning with an odd thought.  Rather than waking up sad like I had been for the few weeks prior (Man, I was such a big baby…), I actually woke up with a strong motivational thought.  Amid all the sadness and chaos, and seemingly out of nowhere, this thought dawned on me:  I am SO lucky to have passions.  And not even just one.  I act, I run, and I write.  And all three of those things are true passions.  They make me me.  When I’m doing any of them, I’m not worrying about anything else in my life.  I lose myself in them, and yet I find myself at the same time.  Strange how that works.

It’s so important to have those passions and to act on them.  If you’re reading this right now, I know something pops into your mind.  Maybe it’s not the same as mine.  Maybe yours is drawing. Or dancing. Or gardening. Or playing the ukulele – I don’t know.  But whatever it is – DO it!  Lose yourself!

Just do me a favor, okay?

Make sure you don’t fall into the trap that I’ve fallen into many many times in the past – don’t let another person become your passion.  That’s so so dangerous.  A quote by Joseph Addison on that topic:

“Admiration is a very short-lived passion that immediately decays upon growing familiar with its object.”

Romantic passions are temporary.  You can try with all your heart (trust me, I know), but they aren’t going to fill the void that exists in you for that true passion.  The one that is all about you.  That one that makes you feel complete, without the help of another human being.

Because, you see – the only person that will remain permanently in your life is you.

I’m not trying to be a Debbie Downer here with that statement.  Not at all.  Just trying to make you (and me) realize that if you’re going to pour your heart and soul into something…make sure it’s something concrete and stable.  Something that won’t unexpectedly disappear on you.  That can never be another human being.

And hey, I know I don’t know anything.  I’m floating around out here on this sea searching for life rafts just like the rest of you.  But I’ve noticed lately that the life rafts I start clinging to that don’t require the involvement of another person, those are the ones that seem to do the best job of keeping me afloat.  I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I’m discovering that my true refuge – my safe haven, if you will – is me.

And that’s kind of awesome when you think about it.  Because I know I am not going to let me down.

So.  Find your passions and do them.  Save yourself.

Right now.

Go!

***

Next time I’ll be braver
I’ll be my own savior
Standing on my own two feet.
– Adele, Turning Tables lyrics

Allowed to Breathe

selfish 5

Oh, if I had a dollar for everytime I’ve heard that lately…

Now, when I first started hearing it, I was worried.  I was afraid that I was letting circumstances get to me and turn me into someone I’m not.  But now that a little more time has passed, I’m starting to realize that it’s actually quite the opposite.  Yes, the circumstances are getting to me.  But they are actually turning me into someone I AM.  And, as it turns out, some people don’t really like that.  But you know what?

I do.

See, I’ve always been a people pleaser.  I think a lot of us are like that really.  It’s just easier to go with the flow…”Oh, it doesn’t matter where we eat – you choose”  “No, it’s ok if you have other plans, I didn’t really need anyone to go with me anyway – I’ll go alone.” “Oh, there’s only one [insert item here] left?  Sure, you take it, I didn’t want it anyway.”  Ya know, stuff like that.  And to an extent, that’s a great way to be (especially for us mommies – it’s ingrained in us.)  But if you’re not careful, those little things start turning into bigger things.  “Oh, you think I’m not a good person?  Well, since I’m so used to deferring to your judgment, you must be right about that.  So, I’m going to believe what you say.”

That, my friend, is not cool.

And sometimes, something happens in your life that shakes you up.  It makes you start realizing that maybe, just maybe, you have slipped over into that mindset.  And you start thinking that maybe you need to do something about that.

For me, that time is now.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I understand fully where my naysayers are coming from.  I’ve been there myself.  I’ve watched the non-people pleasers before and may have had those same thoughts – that they’re being selfish by putting themselves first.

Oooh.  Now, there’s the magic word, isn’t it?  Selfish.  (Yep – I’ve been hearing that one a lot lately too.)

And here’s one of my favorite things I’ve seen on that topic:

selfish 2

Let that sink in for a minute.

What good are you to anyone else if you’re not strong enough?  If you’re not allowed to breathe?

Are you really helping anyone by always staying in the background, by taking the crumbs that are left behind rather than jumping in there and getting a full piece of bread for yourself?  You absolutely HAVE to find out who you are, what you want, what you like – and then DO IT.  You never know who you might inspire by doing just that.  And isn’t that what we’re really here for?  To help each other?  To let our short little wisp of time here serve as an example?  How do you want to be remembered?

And on that note, to counter the naysayers, I’ve also received some compliments that have surprised me.  I’ve had people that I didn’t even think ever paid any attention to me or knew me at all, send me messages that I am inspiring them with how I’ve started writing and how I’m showing others that they’re not alone through those writings.  Those are the people that I’m choosing to listen to.  The ones who have told me that I’ve changed probably are just the ones that aren’t benefitting from the way I used to be.  And you know what?  I’m not sorry about that.  Not one little bit.

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So, who are you choosing to please today?

Or better yet  –  who are you giving your oxygen mask to?  Hmmm?

Become who you are.  No more living in others’ shadows.  Got it?

***

It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: but it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg.
We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg.
We must be hatched or go bad.
– C.S. Lewis

Loyalty

loyalty2

Man, that is a STRONG word.

I struggled over writing this blog.  I try to keep the things that I write on a general level.  I don’t call out specific names of anyone I may be speaking of, etc.   Of course, if you know me, you know who I’m referring to in my last breakup, who my children are when I refer to them, who my family is, things like that.  But for the most part, this blog is just a general compilation of stories and life lessons that I’m trying to pick up along the line.  Healing through my pen, I guess you can say.

This entry will be no different.

However, a few things in my life lately have brought up this touchy, sensitive, ever-important subject of loyalty.

Do we even know what that word means anymore?  Well, here’s how MacMillan Dictionary defines it:

Loyalty (noun):
support that you always give to
someone or something because of your
feelings of duty and love towards them.

You know what stuck out to me in that definition?  The word “always.”

Always.

How many people in your life can you think of that you always support simply because of your feelings of duty and love towards them?  If you’re like me, you probably want to shout out a list of names and defend your own loyalty to the death.  But really.  I want you to think about this.

When a friend asks a favor of you, or asks you to do something because it means something to them, have you ever tried to talk them out of it because you thought they were just being silly?  Be honest.  Have you?  Or have you refused to do it altogether because you disagreed with them, or because you may have just had your own personal reasons for just not wanting to do it?  I have.  I’ll admit it.  I’ve let my own ego get in the way at times.  We all have.  Or, have you given unwarranted advice to someone?  Told them that you think how they are behaving or what they are doing is “wrong.”  I’m guilty of this one too.  I have acted like I know better than they do and that they are just confused or being childish, and tried to ‘lead them down the right path’ and give them what I thought to be helpful advice and guidance.

But having been on the receiving end of this lately has caused me to put some serious thought into it.  Is that behavior showing loyalty?  Is it?

I think maybe it’s just being bossy.

I found this picture in doing my (limited) research for this loyalty blog:

loyalty

Wow.  Think about that.  Really think about it.  What’s more important to you?  Being “clever” and “wise” and spouting off all of your possibly unwanted knowledge to someone about how much better they can be by behaving a different way?  Or maintaining a friendship by just showing support and loyalty, and believing that they, like you, also have a brain.  They may be in troubled times, may even be a little misdirected at times, but they know better than you do about what they need for their life.  Before showing “tough love,” ask yourself where that tough love is coming from.  Is it coming from a true place of love and concern, or is it just wanting to boost your own ego and show your own cleverness by showing how much more you know than they do?

Rather than trying to impart your own principles, morals, ethics, etc., on someone else, how about just be a friend?  Ya know?  Show loyalty and support.  Just be there.  Do whatever it takes to help them – by doing what they need, not what you think you should do.  Sometimes you need to “do unto others” as they ask you to.  Not as you deem fitting.

Put ego aside.  That’s all I’m asking.  If they ask you for help, give them what they ask for.  Be loyal.  And if they don’t ask for help?  Just hold their hand and be quiet.  Sometimes that might just be all they need.

And if you can’t do that?  Then maybe, just maybe, it might be time to move along.

“Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.”
– Dalai Lama

Uphill Both Ways

“When I was your age, we had to walk to school uphill both ways…”
– Every Older Person There Ever Was

Yesterday I ran a route that I’ve been wanting to run ever since I started running.  There hasn’t been much of a reason why I haven’t done it yet.  At first, I wasn’t ready for it (physically or mentally); then I wanted to wait for a special occasion on the calendar (all of which came and went); then it was Winter, etc. etc. etc.  Not sure why I put it off as long as I did.  But yesterday, without even any true destination in mind, I put my running clothes on, hopped in the car, and just drove.  I ended up here:

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This is the house that is still standing in the Potato Creek community in Virginia, where my grandpa was born and raised.  He passed away in February of last year.

He wasn’t much of a talker when he was with us.  Very quiet – filled with secrets.  But my grandmother filled in the gaps.  Through her, I’ve heard about the house he grew up in and have learned about the hilly path he had to walk on to school and back and everyday.  I’ve driven this path many times, but ever since I became a runner, I have always wanted to run it.  It’s not that far to me now (a little more than four miles), but when I first started running, I knew I wasn’t ready for that distance.  And distance wasn’t really the issue anyway.  Holy crap, is that thing hilly!  But I kept telling myself that one day I would be ready to run it.  Turns out, yesterday was the day.

This may have been one of my favorite runs ever.  It may sound crazy, but a part of me felt like my Pa-Paw was actually running with me.  I’m not sure he cared for the Kelly Clarkson, Pink, and Cee Lo Green that was busting out of my headphones, but nonetheless, I think he kept up.  In fact, I think he probably passed me a few times.  Especially on those dang hills!  Did I mention there were hills?  (From now on, when an older person tells me they walked uphill to school both ways, I’m not questioning that statement. I just found out for myself!)

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But man, were those hills beautiful.  The whole route was beautiful.  For a little less than an hour, I stopped thinking, stopped feeling, stopped obsessing, and just ran with my grandpa.

The old school that he went to is no longer standing.  From what I understand, it burned down years ago (long after it was no longer used as a school and was just being used as a barn for local farmland).  After the run, I went and looked at the area a little and this was the only remnants of the school that I found:

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Here’s a view of the whole area where the school stood:

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And still standing (and still in operation on occasion) just beside the old school land is the church that he attended – Potato Creek Church.  Such a beautiful old place that holds many many memories, I’m sure.

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And since I’m sharing pictures, I have to share one last one.  Now, I can’t remember – did I mention that this run was hilly?  HOLY COW, it was hilly.  And at one point, I kid you not, I saw something painted on the road that cracked me up.  I’m convinced that someone else before me tried to run this thing and happened to be carrying a can of spray paint along with them on thier run:

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I feel ya, fellow runner.  That’s exactly how I felt too!

So, anyway, this blog is not going to be like most of my others.  I usually try to wrap up with some type of life lesson that I’ve learned from some experience.  But nope.  Not this time.  I just wanted to tell you about a run with my grandpa that I finally took the time to do.  A run where I cleared my mind, appreciated the scenery, traveled back in time in my mind to try to experience what it had been like for my ancestors before me.  You know – just took a break from everything else and appreciated who I was and where I came from.

Hmmm.  Maybe there’s a life lesson to be learned in this after all.

Thanks for the run, Pa-Paw.