Disney Leadership Keynote Speaker
Five daily blogs about life's 5 big choices on five interconnected sites.
The dinner conversation with close friends last night drifted into why I write five daily, differently-themed blogs.
(… a run of four-plus years and 8k+ posts)
Won’t go on and on about it (because I did that last night), but will say three things:
Ever catch yourself in an unintentional accident that became a miracle?
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Hometown. Paper Mill. Three generations worked there.
Dad, what was Pap-paw like?
Jack Noel, jeff noel’s Dad, died April 10, 2001. The annual Summer trip home was planned for June. Our son never met his Grandfather.
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Yesterday’s answer: Yes, anyone can. History is full of game-changing stories.
You know the type. They talk about the past. About things younger people can’t even comprehend:
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.
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.