Reflections on music, memory, and the power of gratitude – a BIG ole thank you Old Dominion, Eric Church, and Kenny Chesney

 

There have been so many moments in my life when music is more than just a gentle backdrop of white noise, that's pretty much all my moments if I am being honest.  It has often become the lens through which I look at myself, my past, and the intricate dance of connections that have shaped who I am.  Lately, I have found myself in such a moment. Three songs that scrolled by one after the other in a playlist, one from Old Dominion, one from Eric Church, and the last from Kenny Chesney, did more than act as background noise.  They illuminated my life’s journey, casting both shadows and light on the faces and memories that define my story.

It began with Old Dominion’s “I Miss Ya Man,” a song that opened the door to memories I carry, loved ones lost along my six decades long journey. Each verse was a quiet invitation to revisit those Brothers and Sisters from other Mothers who are no longer with us.  The childhood laughter with Alison Bodey, and later, the years we dated, we rode along for 44 years. The steadfast friendship of Lyndon Boyer, one of the best human beings I have ever known, we shared the road for 45 years.  I realized, as the melody played, that certain stories now live only in my heart. The laughter, the exaggerations, the moments that once belonged to “us,” now rest in my memory alone. There was sorrow in that realization, and unexpected gratitude, too, for having shared such precious chapters with each of them.

The song reminded me, grief is a companion on the ride of life.  It’s there in the missed goodbyes to friends like Debbie, whose recent passing I’m still processing.  It lingers in the memories of those, like Eric, Grady, and Cary, who found the world too heavy to bear.  In recalling them, I’m reminded not only of loss, but also of the enduring bonds that even death cannot sever. Their stories and love continue to shape who I am and who I am becoming.

Eric Church’s “Those I’ve Loved” followed, and with it, a wave of gratitude. The song’s quiet truths, lessons from a grandfather, the strength of those who’ve walked beside us echoed my own life.  Some important people in my young life helped me like a grandfather would’ve if I’d had one.  Alva, Don, and Rodney were instrumental in shaping who I am today and it was a reminder that none of us arrives at our present alone.  We’re molded by the kindness, patience, and generosity of countless souls along the way.  Some of whom remain and others who’ve moved on.  In being reminded of what I already knew, I feel compelled to offer thanks to all who’ve walked with me. Life is too fleeting for appreciation to go unsaid.

Kenny Chesney’s “When I See This Bar” completed the musical trilogy, painting a portrait of memory and belonging. The bar became a symbol, not just of time spent with friends but of those suspended moments when we stand between who we were and who we’re becoming.  Faces change, stories evolve, but the longing to connect remains constant, a universal chord that reverberates through every one of our lives.

The cumulative impact of these songs was profound. They’ve offered me a renewed sense of purpose, to cherish those beside me, literally and figuratively, honor those who are no longer with us, and savor the transient beauty of every gathering, every conversation, every shared silence. They remind me the ride is unpredictable and finite but made immeasurably better by the company that travel along with us and the love we share with them.

With each loop of the playlist, the meaning deepened for me.  I see my own journey with greater clarity, not just for myself, but for everyone who’s traveled alongside me, even those who were there for a short stretch.  Music, in this way, is both salve and guide, helping me embrace the fullness of my story and a reminder to always lead with gratitude into whatever chapters I have remaining.  

So, to those I’ve loved along the way, thank you for your presence, laughter, and your light. Thank you for helping me become, in ways small and profound, a better human.  May we all find the courage to say “I love you” freely, honor our memories, our stories and make the most of the time we share on this wild, beautiful ride of life.

Beginning a new chapter in a place we’ve never been is equal parts exhilarating and disorienting at the same time.  I often find myself longing for the closeness and physical presence of friends who know the rhythm of my life, my past, the shorthand conversations, the inside jokes, and quiet companionship that only years together can forge. As Dolly and Kenny sang, “You Can’t Make New Old Friends.”

Feelings of isolation don’t knock loudly, sometimes they hum faintly in the background like the white noise of life.  In those moments, I will remember these three songs. “I Miss Ya Man” reminds me that love and grief share space. “Those I’ve Loved” nudges me toward gratitude and the roots of who I am.  And “When I See This Bar” reminds me that memory can turn any place into sacred ground, wherever I am and whenever I reflect.

So yes, I feel isolated at times. But I also know these feelings are transient and are part of the reshaping that comes with writing a spanking new chapter.  I carry y’all with me in the details, in the music, in how I greet strangers with warmth, wondering if a micro-relationship might blossom into something more.  And I know this season, like all others, will eventually bloom.  The ache of loss of the familiar will soften, the streets will start to feel like mine own, and I’ll find my new tribes - and I know they’ll add to the amazing tapestry that is my life.

Thanks for being my friend and joining me on this journey.

I cherish what I call micro relationships

So to start with that term is one I created and defined, if you google that, it has other meanings that are FAR from what I am talking about when I use that term.  When I use that term I am speaking of those relationships that start out super topical and grow at the pace of a great redwood tree.  They mostly get started through some transactional interaction, for example the teller at the bank that you prefer or the checker at the grocery store or maybe someone you meet while watching a sunrise from a amazing spot.

While these relationships are often taken for granted, they are so important – at least to me.  They fill in the gaps between our close friends and strangers we have yet to be acquainted with.  They bring a certainty to our lives, a comfort in knowing a bit about the Dude or Dudette selling ya a car battery or cutting your hair or selling ya a lotto ticket.

I make a deliberate effort to cultivate micro-relationships whenever possible. They often times start with a few words to a person, saying thank you Randy to the man who checks you out at the Safeway grocery store, and you know his name is Randy initially because his name tag says Randy.  That eventually leads you to going to his line to get checked out, even if that line is longer than the other lines.  This can happen anywhere, even at the car wash or the landfill.

I have seen so many service folks like Randy abused by “Karens” (sorry Karen B and Karen F as you are not Karens in the way I am using that word here).  I have seen folks like Randy completely ignored while some Kevin (male version of a Karen I just learned from Google).

Everyone of us is just trying to do our thing and every single one of us should be given every bit as much respect as everyone else in the world!  NO ONE should look down on, ignore or be an asshat to someone just doing the gig they have to support their lives.  ESPECIALLY when it is so easy to share a smile, a kind word or just an simple acknowledgement of their existence.

While I have many friends who mean the absolute world to me, I have an equal amount of relationships that fall into the micro relationship category.  Funny thing is that for me, they both hold equal value in my heart, absolutely different but absolutely equal.  Equal because they fill a gap, we don’t always get to see our friends every day, and yet we do see and interact with all sorts of folks all the time, and each is an opportunity to spool a bit of positive out into the inverse.

I am absolutely convinced that most of the positive fortune I have had in my life came back to me because I have been deliberate about spooling positive out.  Basically many of the eastern religions call that Karma, not being religious in any way I prefer spooling positive out, I learned today that there’s some science backing that up.   At least on the good Karma side, which is very different than the Karma the Karens and Kevins of the world spool out.

SO… you might be wondering why I am even typing about this??  Well, with our recent move, in addition to missing my Brothers and Sisters from other Mothers, I also acutely feel the loss of the myriad micro-relationships I had formed in the 10 and half years I spent in Oregon.  I know that I will rebuild those here in Lincoln, but I feel the loss and look forward to getting those back in my life, and I have started.

These are long game relationships that build slowly over time, as you only have minutes at time with these folks.  It also starts for me with a simple smile and asking how they are doing and then some little joke or smart aleck answer to how I am doing.  For those who know me you have hundreds of them.  They range from “living the dream” to “if I were any better I’d be twins of you” to “it’s too early to tell”. 

As you can imagine those get any range of responses, but it also indicates to me if a micro-relationship is worth pursuing.  I only recall a couple of times that I thought, nope, nope and NOPE.  I have found after a couple of interactions they start to recognize me and initiate the conversation, ya know with how ya doing today?

Over time, a few tiny nuggets at a time, you learn about who they are, what they are about, what pets they have or what their kids are doing and other little mundane factoids, and they learn those things about you as well.  Over time you start to look forward to the check in with them at the check out line and if ya haven’t seen them for a while you wonder and hope they are ok.

This can happen with many folks, like Samantha, who went by Sam, who cut my hair for a number of years before she had a kiddo and became a stay-at-home Mom.  Or Smitty who was the guru over at Advanced Auto Parts, who eventually learned each vehicle I owned, and he had a kick ass 32 Ford.   That relationship was easy to get started, as we were both Smitty. 

It was also Chuck, who delivered firewood to Smithlandia, who was a super interesting dude who spent a few years building his own house, and it was amazing – yes he took me over to check it out.  Or Bobby, the first dude we had in Oregon taking care of our yard.  He was in previous life a pot farmer and eventually helped me grow a bumper crop one year, just to see if I could do it.  I remember him being pissed that my harvest came out better then his, hahaha, all I did was exactly what he told me to.

It could be Roy, who I met on the beach watching the sunrise in Jacksonville and became very close friends.  I took him to both his cataract surgeries and eventually he came to our home every year for Thanksgiving.  He also took me to his country club for lunch, which he really enjoyed doing.  A lasting and meaningful relationship that started with us at sunrise one morning at the beach.  Here is a story I wrote about him when he passed.  Mr. Oatmeal's Oratories

I am sure I am not alone in having these kinds of micro-relationships and I am probably not alone in how important they are in my life.  Anyway, I wanted to tell you about and encourage you to slow down long enough to make a difference in someone’s life, no matter how small. 

Which leads to me Ariel, my first micro-relationship here in Nebraska.  Well, I feel it is the beginning of one anyway.  Bride and I went out to breakfast a couple of weekends ago and I noticed one waitress doting over an elderly gentleman at a table near us.  To the point of sitting with him for a few minutes two or three times. 

The bits of the conversation that I overheard were just the day to day of life events but there was a connection between them for sure.  I recall thinking how awesome is that that she took a few minutes out of her day to brighten his day, spooling the positive into the universe.

So we were there a few days later and she ended up being our server on this visit.  I told her that I had noticed her spending time chatting with an older gentleman the last time we were in.  Her face lit up and she said yeah, that was Glenn, he is 97, a veteran, and drives here every day for breakfast.  She went on to tell us more about him and it was just beautiful. 

I told her how much I appreciated her spending those minutes with him and that I enjoyed watching her spool positive into the universe, and that it was clear that she meant a great deal to Glenn.  She touched her heart, holding back a tear and said “you have just filled my heart up, thank you”.   That interaction touched my soul and led me to reflecting on the power and importance of micro relationships.

Go spool some positive into the universe Y’all – it will come back multiplied!!