Tuesday, January 21, 2014
The little things: good things, bad things; things that mean everything
The Balloon: I went to my favorite restaurant on Friday night with my husband and we enjoyed some great food and music. It must have been someone’s birthday because a woman had a bunch of latex balloons in tow. Near the end of the musician’s set, one of the balloons had been set free from its leash and it had also lost its perkiness due to stale helium. Once the balloon had been set free, it began to happily bounce through the crowd of merry people, hitting everyone’s volleyball spike with joy. I watched as the balloon traveled through the half drunken crowd and I thought, “Wow. It’s amazing how helium – filled latex can connect such a joyous crowd on a Friday night. That’s awesome.” The Purple Chair: I watched a rented movie late one night over the weekend about two families who went through great lengths together to find their kidnapped daughters. The fathers of both daughters had captured the kidnapper and tortured him in order to get information out of him, since he was an accomplice to the lead criminal. Near the end, the case had been blown open by a lead provided by a supermarket clerk. Once the lead had been investigated, they held a man in custody who had been a prime suspect in the kidnapping. They captured him at a house whose walls had been covered in drawings of a maze; another clue. The house also contained large, black toolboxes that contained numbers of different kinds of snakes in addition to bloody children’s clothing. The clothing had been photographed piece by piece by investigators, which were then shown to each family in a private office. The first family stormed out of the office, emotionally destroyed by the assumed fact that their daughter was killed. The second family only consisted of the father since the mother was too emotionally distraught to leave her bed. The father entered the office, which was full of office furniture; a long meeting table and numerous, cushioned, mobile, purple chairs. The father sat in one of the chairs and examined the photos. One photo struck him when he noticed that the piece of clothing in the photo belonged to his daughter, which was covered in blood. A bullet of emotions struck his body while that purple chair supported everything; his physical weight, weight of emotions, everything. That’s the purple chair’s job. It supports many emotions each time it has an occupant. It’s the occupant’s world in the moment; the only support, comfort, and unforgettable piece in an occupant’s mind during a brief moment of heartbreak. Purple chair = a world in itself. Walking to the mailbox: I live in an RV and commute to school every day via a free commuter bus. Over the weekend, I was sitting at a makeshift table/bed, looking out the window and I spotted a man wearing a red coat and forest green pants off in the distance. He was walking a long walk down the lane (I live on a ranch…gravel and dirt only) and he crossed a highway to reach his mailbox. Looking up from my work very now and then, I watched him make the trek back down the lane with his mail clenched in his gloved hand. It made me think how hard he works to keep his ranch up and running all while volunteering at Church, being the head of the Church board, Search and Rescue, the Main Street Cowboy organization, visiting people in need, taking care of his family, and so much more. The walk he took out to the mailbox, reminded me of how relaxing and mind - clearing a simple walk can be, especially in the midst of such a hectic and focused schedule. Sometimes taking a break to enjoy some fresh air and nature’s beauty is all it takes to get back up and at it. I mean, at 74, with diabetes, naively keeping up his reputation as my hero, he is one hard – working grandpa.