Spiritual Stuff.

I think I had a spiritual moment whilst standing on the Golden Gate Bridge this past week. It was a glowing happiness that washed over me as I stood there, enjoying the sun and the breezes and the water below. Perhaps it was relatives that have passed on stopping by to enjoy the view with me. Maybe it was the gentle smile from the clergy-like attired man that was there to speak with those that thought about having their last spiritual moment on the bridge. Whatever it was, I felt calm, at peace, recharged and ready to take on the future head-on after a few moments of standing there.

When I returned to the observation area, the man that knows me better than any other person on this world sensed that “something” had happened on the bridge for me. I couldn’t put it in words for him so I didn’t try. I know I felt more relaxed than I have in a couple of years. The feeling carries on.

This weekend a friend asked if I am a spiritual person. The emphasis of the question was on the word ‘spiritual’ versus ‘religious’. I’m definitely not a religious person; I think the vast majority of organized religions have taken the a beautiful intent and perverted into a diatribe of hate, a conversation of a fear and an intent of pure profit. But spirituality is something completely different for me. Spirituality is found when the heart connects with everything that surrounds it. I seek beauty everywhere I look. I fully believe that this life, right now, is just one chapter of a multi-faceted journey and I fully believe that we have kindred spirits that we have known before, we know now and we will know again. I have met people where there was just a resounding ‘click’. When I meet someone for the first time and I feel that ‘click’, I attribute it to some sort of connection and start talking with them like I’ve known them before. I figure we had a conversation in a previous life or something, so we might as well just continue on together. I know, it sounds very Shirley MacLaine. I’m okay with that (though I wasn’t completely okay with her portrayal of Endora).

I know a lot of gay men that are atheists. I know many that have found a path similar to mine; finding spirituality via the Universe instead of relying on the writings of man. Each of us have our own path and I’m fine with that. I’m not going to try to change your mind and I thank you for not trying to change mine. We have our beliefs and I don’t think that it all comes down a binary answer.

I believe that we can do wondrous things for the world if we just open our hearts and minds. Standing on the Golden Gate Bridge opened up my heart and mind a little more. My goal is to maintain that openness and do what I can to make the world a better place. So yes, I am a very spiritual person and I am happy that I have found that again.

I had written a reminder to myself almost a year ago. I thought it would be a great Father’s Day present. The plan was simple: the new plane would be ready for passengers. I’d get up at the crack of dawn and drive the hour to get to the airport, which is really just a mowed, grassy-strip flanked by trees and a gravel bed and marked with “16” and “34” laid in the ground in cinder blocks. We’d push the plane out of it’s hanger. He would make a thorough inspection to make sure everything was perfectly ready for the flight and then we’d take-off. Hopefully we’d take off towards the north so we wouldn’t have to take off over the power lines at the south end of the runway. We’d head to a fly-in breakfast for Father’s Day, just like we had done so many times in the 1940 Piper J5-A back when I was teenager. The destination would be at Weedsport, Canastota, Marcellus or maybe even Penn Yan. We’d land and put the plane in just the right spot. He would order eggs because pancakes scared him to death (due to his allergy to buckwheat); I’d eat the pancakes because I don’t eat eggs. We’d both eat bacon or sausage. After breakfast we’d chat with the other pilots that had made the journey. I’m sure many would have looked over the new Wittman Tailwind.

Much has changed in a year. I miss you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day. Thinking of you today has generated a couple of tears but many, many smiles.

I consider myself very lucky in that I inherited a magnificent (albeit, convenient) memory from my father. When a customer came into the family store, my father could tell that customer what they bought the last time, even if the last visit had been a decade ago. There was no need for a computer or a contacts tracking database, my father kept it all in his head. I found this amazing. I remember key details of people when I meet them, but unfortunately their name isn’t one of those details. But other things remain. My sister is always amazed when I can relay an event from when I was preschool age. She says she never remembers these things.

I spent the evening with my sister and my mom looking over old photos, some of which included photos from my mom and dad’s wedding day and from their “pre-kids” era. One photo of mom and dad locked in a playful embrace was particularly enjoyable. They were both 18 or 19 and looked very happy. Jennifer remarked that she doesn’t remember any other photos of mom and dad embracing. Despite my memory skills, I don’t remember one either. It’s not something that was commonly photographed. They hugged, we just didn’t film it.

Even though my mom and dad separated and later divorced, I still vividly remember the last time I saw my dad lovingly gaze at my mother. It’s a memory that brings a smile to my face and it makes me feel like a happy kid again.

There are little random things here and there that stir up a memory or two from my childhood and it’s a good feeling. I was a pretty happy-go-lucky kid and I think, like my dad, that when I tried I could find happiness in just about any situation. I need to remember how to do that more often. That’s a memory I need to hold onto. The ability to be happy.

I like looking through old family photos and coaxing more memories to life. It keeps me grounded and helps me remember my roots. I am who and where I am today because of all the influences that built those memories and that’s an awesome thing.

Jamie and I are just back from our spa and massage experience at the Saratoga Springs Spa. Margi has hands of wonder. It has been much too long since I have given my body the honor it deserves and at the end of the massage and subsequent steam room visit, my body said, “Thank you. Thank you very much.” It didn’t sound like Elvis.

Tomorrow I go back to the exercise routine I have started. It is certainly helping with clearing my mind and giving me the centering and balance I have been missing for quite a while. I need to remember to be kinder to my body. I feel much better when I do so. It only makes sense.

The spirit of the holiday season is the most important element of this time of year for me. I like to think that I have moved beyond accumulating large-ticket items under the tree; tokens of love are much more appropriate for me. When asked what I want for Christmas, my response this year has been “nothing, I have all that I want.”

With the passing of both my father and my father-in-law this month, I have to admit that it’s been rather difficult for me to find the holiday spirit. I have found the mingling of sympathy cards with Christmas cards in the mail to be rather solemn, though the sentiments of all were very much appreciated. It was a struggle to find the time to put up the Christmas tree this year; when I looked at it this morning, I marveled in it’s beauty (though the new tree topper we bought a year or two ago seems to be shorting out and blinking erratically).

I have struggled to find that Christmas spirit, but it has slowly been coming around and I have found ways to pass it along and bring the smile back to my face. After all, it’s the little things that count, like shaking the hand of and wishing a co-worker a Merry Christmas before they leave for the day, just after having a rather intense meeting with them. Or giving the fine folks at Dunkin’ Donuts a generous tip to thank them for having an iced tea ready whenever my Jeep is rumored to be in the area. Perhaps it’s sending a text message to someone that needs an electronic hug or leaving a voicemail wishing happy holiday sentiments to someone that you’ve only exchanged email with. It’s these little things that make the difference to me and it’s these little things that are showing me that the holiday spirit is very much alive and well.

Life is good. Happy Solstice. Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Earl and I are back home after a weekend with his family celebrating the life of his father. Tomorrow our regular programming resumes already in progress.

I am looking forward to getting back on track, all with new and cherished memories loaded and ready to go. As Earl said during his father’s eulogy yesterday afternoon, we have decided to not be sad anymore. It’s time cherish the memories and continue along our paths.

So yesterday I wrote that I was looking for some normalcy to return to our life after the death of my father. It seems that this is not quite ready to come to fruition, as this morning when I arrived at work I received a phone call that my father-in-law had passed on this morning. He has been I’ll for a while; doctors had found spots on his lungs and my father-in-law opted to keep them undiagnosed.

Dad passed in his sleep this morning shortly before 8 a.m.

Earl and I are in Earl’s hometown near Philadelphia for the weekend. We had already planned on visiting this weekend to visit Dad. Now we are here to spend time with his family, reflect and share memories.

Surprisingly, I told Earl this morning that I feel more spiritually centered and grounded than I have in a long time. This feeling did not change after receiving the news about my father-in-law. I’m okay, I think we are both okay, but life does feel a little odd right now.