Lorie To jeff To Lorie & Back

jeff noel’s original email reply to Lorie…

Perfect timing with your note.

Been writing most of the day.

Am trying something radical, instead of waking up with no clue what the five blogs will be about…just wake up, think, go, write.

In two weekends, the goal is to crank out 155 posts.

Is that not crazy? Wonder what I’d think of me if I was on the outside looking in. Some sort of compulsive, freakish person who ought to get a life… 🙂

Or maybe a man driven by the ticking clock, racing to catch up, or make up, for squandered years….the 1st 40 were all about me.

Lorie Sheffer’s reply to jeff noel:

“Squandered years”.  Oh how I envy you!  I think we should all have some squandered years, when it’s all about us. What a luxury. Imagine if you had Chapin a month after you turned 20.  Imagine being 25 and having 2 kids and two marriages.
But you know what? If we changed even one single detail about our past it could alter what our lives are right now, and in ways that we may find unbearable.  Leave out even one minor detail, and it could change life as we know it.
When I was 17, all I wanted was to get the Hell out of York. I had this dream of living in a large city and going to discos (Hey! It was the 70s!) and having quite the life.  I had no clue what I was going to be doing to support that life, but I knew I would be single for years and years. I was not going to get married till I was at LEAST 40, and I didn’t like kids, so they were totally not even a consideration. Three years later I was living in a tiny town on the Pennsylvania Maryland line, with a cheating, drug using husband and a baby. So much for big dreams! Every one of my friends except for one went about their lives as if they had never known me. They were busy with college parties and newfound freedom.
I thought that since I had my kids when I was so young that I would hit 40 and finally it would be ME time. But then Gary had his stroke and then my grandson came along and then my brother got cancer and then our cousin/friend died and then Dad got sick……. I’m still waiting.  You think about the years that were all about you and I think of the years that were never about me. The road not travelled.
But like I said, if we think about what would have been or could have been, it’s just a waste. It is what it is. Not to say that I don’t appreciate my life, because I do. My family means the world to me. My family means the world to me. By family, I mean not only those who are related by blood but also those who always have a room at my house.

Anyway, Jeff, I will bet that clock began to tick really loud for you when your dad got sick. I know how Gary began to kind of worry about his own health when his mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. He has brain damage from his stroke, which is a known risk factor, and genetics going against him. Those factors can’t be controlled, but he takes such good care of himself he is probably not at any more risk than the average person. Still, if he can’t remember a name I can tell it hits an internal panic button that wasn’t there a few years ago. You and he will both probably live to be 100.
You are who you are because of what you have been, and you are a wonderful person. If you were on the outside looking in, you would like what you saw.  I had no contact with you since 1977. I missed the “squandered years”. What I am seeing through your writing is that you are not that different from the kid I knew in 4th grade, the one who spoke with wonder and awe about the little newts he had found in the woods behind his house. That little boy didn’t have to say that he treated them gently; it went without saying.

Roy Noel (and Jack Noel), told by Jennifer Noel

Your grandfather, my father, died in July of 1974. I was 29. Just returned from a three week trip to Europe with the Pennsylvania Ambassadors, a group of about 200 kids in three musical groups…..a chorus, band and jazz band. We toured England, France, Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. A fun trip. I saw the queen of England riding side-saddle in a parade on her birthday. You mentioned that your grandfather didn’t talk to you. He wasn’t into spending time talking. He was a “doer”.

He worked two jobs for most of his life and knew how to fix almost ANYTHING around the house. He did so many things for your dad when he bought the house you grew up in…….and he would have done anything for him. He thought you were an absolutely beautiful child. I remember when my mother baby sat you for about two weeks when your mother had her appendix removed. He took loads of pictures of you…..having your bath in the kitchen sink and lying on the kitchen table on a blanket, playing peek-a-boo with you.

I have NO childhood memories of him holding me, hugging me, or doing anything with me. He was always working….providing for his family. He nearly built the inside of the house on north Main St. in Spring Grove. Before we moved in, it had no electricity. He wired the entire house. It had no sewer. He had one of his co-workers from Reads Standard, in York, helped him install the sewer pipes. I remember it because they melted five pound pieces of lead to pour around the joints to seal the pipes together. It had no furnace. It had ONE running faucet in it. He put the toilet, bath tub and shower in. Built a bathroom. There was none. My room was split into two room so the house could have a bathroom. He put wall board on all the walls because the walls were nearly rotten. Later, he cemented the cellar.

Installed the washer and dryer. His way of showing love to me was to “be there” for me. It is probably the single most influential reason that I have never married…….because I never learned how to relate to available men. The one relationship that I did have with Charlie Reed (he was a real darling)….graduated from Millersville with a BS in Secondary Ed. English major. He broke up our relationship because he got tired of hearing me say that I didn’t think I was good enough for him. Actually I was………I just didn’t feel worthy….because my father never gave me any attention.

That’s how it works, you know. So, the point being, it wasn’t that he didn’t love you……..he just didn’t talk about it. I hope this brings some light on the subject.

Mid Life Creativity

Do you ever have moments, seasons, or even longer stages of life where you question many things? Or maybe you find yourself lost and confused. Or, overwhelmed.

Mid Life creativity is critical in moving from a mid life crisis to a mid life celebration.  Several times yesterday, I thought about it being Monday. Monday is “Twistee Treat Day”.  And so is Friday.

Seemingly insignificant, or trivial, at first glance, isn’t it?

You see, as a mid-life father of a nine-year old, in many ways, I was a “fish out of water” when our son was born.

What to do, right?  Well, it seemed like a good idea to find small ways to create lasting memories (traditions).

Perhaps the main reason this is challenging for me is because, when I tried to recall these things with my Dad and my Grandfather, I was coming up empty.  Both men loved me and I loved them.

I just simply don’t remember any special things that we did together.

Tomorrow I’ll share a creative mid-life list of some of the things that are so simple, and yet so significant, that they will last  life time.  Who wouldn’t want that?

Busy Midlife Slacker?

Being busy at midlife can have a profoundly different meaning, if you are willing to be thankful, and open-minded.  Many things can, and do, overwhelm us. Right?

Laughing can be good medicine in managing (not eliminating) stress. And just the other day, a friend and I were reminiscing about some funny moments in our lives that illustrate how we’ve dealt with stress.

Perhaps seven years ago, when our son was two, while Family was staying with us for the year-end holidays, I was on the floor with our son.  We weren’t doing anything important.  Just hanging out really.

The phone rings and I don’t flinch a muscle.  One of the visiting family members was in their 70’s.  They were taught, when the phone rings, you answer it – it’s the lifeline to the world.

They said, “Aren’t you going to answer the phone?”

“No, I’m busy”, I replied sincerely.

“But you aren’t doing anything”, they challenged.

“That’s right.  I’m busy doing nothing”, I said, smiling, staring at my son.

Sometimes, being a midlife slacker can be the most important part of your day.

Workaholics Hate Leisure Time

“Because it is less structured than work, leisure time leaves workaholics at a loss for what to do.  Workaholics practically climb the wall when they can’t work”.   — Marilyn Machlowitz

This is “painful” to read.  Why?  Because I felt particularly guilty this weekend.

While I did do a decent job of carving out time with our son, work occupied a better portion of the weekend.  It was predictable.

It isn’t leisure that leaves a loss for what to do.  It’s quite enjoyable, almost nirvana, doing nothing.  But the work starts to pile up.  So much to do.  So little time.

Yes indeed, so little time.  Our nine-year old will be driving before you know it.  And then it will be too late.