Movement

As I lay in bed, with your Mom's uncles playing to a captive audience just on the other side of the wall, I find it hard to sleep. I also find myself thinking a bit about how different I am from this group. This is fine, and possibly preferable to having and extended Sheldon family that was more like me.

Everyone here, in this rather large group, surfs a lot. Once and sometimes twice a day they go surfing. Yesterday I listened to a story of one of the younger nieces taking the dog out on the board. Rasta is the dog's name, and apparently he stayed up for about 2 minutes. Which is longer than I think I could manage incidentally. Though I don't think I will be trying anytime soon. Everyone comes up to you Owen (as we are here for your Great Grandmother's funeral service and 'everyone' really does mean everyone) and says; "aww....looks like you got yourself a little surfer here." I don't think it will be long before you are out there, paddling out to catch a couple of waves. Not long at all. From the dual-master degree college students to the professional model, everyone surfs here.

As I am up with you early, I see you playing with the paraphernalia of the performance of last night. The used gear is neatly stacked in hard cases, with one left provocatively open. Right now you are fascinated with one of the 20 harmonicas that have been left out....apparently for your enjoyment and education. All of Coral's uncles, and there are 4 of them, play guitars, pianos, harmonicas, and sing with a respectable proficiency. All of them seem to have their own specialization. All of them love to perform. In fact, that is how I met your Grandfather Sheldon, for the first time. He was playing a guitar and singing at a local Olympian restaurant.

And talking. So much talking. Granted there are a lot of people, here in Coos Bay, gathered at the old Sheldon house. With that said, your mother and her father's wife talked for the entire trip here, just the two of them.....for six hours straight....non-stop. This is something your mother occasionally mentions to me as one of her dislikes. The fact that I don't talk that much on car trips drives her crazy, and i think she thinks it means we aren't "living". I see now, what I am being compared to. This place was like a bee's hive the other night. You and I retired early for the evening, as we fell asleep to hum of the jabber. This is a fine thing, it is just not my cup of tea.


I am struck by how different I am from this group. I prefer quiet evenings, quiet mornings and dry land. I am not nearly as theatrical or entertaining. I have tried to be these things and had mild successI was in popular boy choirs, at an early age. I sang in an opera, competed on the state level in High School with my voice and sang in a rock band, for a brief time. But these days, I would rather listen to the wind blow or talk radio. I understand the value of such people in your life, Owen. It is a good example to express yourself freely and without shame. Though I sing to you, quite a bit, I don't suppose that I will be whipping out any instruments any time soon.

I plan on teaching you some things, most of which I have no idea what they will be, but I think my offerings to you will be much different than what I am seeing here.
The piece of paper stuck on the late Great Grandma Dixie's refrigerator admonishes to "Never...stop moving." This seems to be the conventional, and widely acclaimed wisdom of the day. Perhaps even the mantra for most of civilization, for the last several generations. One could argue though, that it is this quest for constant movement and growth that has gotten us into predicaments we find ourselves. I guess I will be the family member to urge you to find the silence, the stillness, the emptiness in your mind and cherish it. I can attest to you that peace and happiness can be found there. It is not as flashy, it is not as much fun, perhaps, but it is another, valid path to contentment. The only one that really worked for me. With that said, learn an instrument if you desire. Almost all of my friends, it seems, play an instrument or two. Be theatrical if you wish, many great stories can be passed on this way. Be whatever you want to be, but know it's ok to be different than what is prevalent.

Wememberence Two

I am going to talk to you Owen, about your Grandma Macy; Penelope (Peni) Jean Gillespie. July 14th 1949 (i think) was when she was born, and she died at the age of 56. She died very young, in this day and age of science and medical miracles, and she died before she got to meet you. I know for a fact she would have absolutely melted at seeing you. I know for a fact she loves you, and is caring for you. To not get to see you, her grandchild, is probably one thing she has determined to change next time around.

Peni was born in Winnipeg Canada and traveled with her family down to California. I hope her other son, my brother Tim will correct me if I am wrong in any of this. In West Covina she went to high school and worked full time eating large quantities of 'Kraft Macaroni and Cheese' late in the evening, before going to be for school the next morning. Kraft Mac and Cheese would go on to be a staple in the Macy household, for two more generations...perhaps longer. Mom had 3 brothers and 3 sisters, a mother and an alcoholic/abusive father. The bit about the father is based on stories from her, but also seems entirely possible. Mom was born after World War Two and everyone was just starting to deal with the psychosis that war leaves behind as it's fruitand seed. Peni met Marshall sometime in California, she was 18 or nineteen, I believe. Dad was serving in the Coast Guard and they would meet during his leaves. They fell in love, and bore two children.

My first memory of Mom is that of being loaded on the back of a bicycle, mom and I pedaling into the warm air. I can remember the smell of the new bicycle tires, I can vaguely remember the sights. I remember the feeling though, so strongly, and I think these feelings are responsible for my life long appreciation for the bicycle.


I remember mom cooking mac and cheese for me in Texas, and sending me into the living room with a big dill pickle to suck on, while I watched Electric Co. I remember Mom looking down on me from a window of our apartments in Florida, as I negotiated a fight in parking lot. Emboldened by her 'presence' I declared, "My mother will kick your Ass." Looking back for confirmation, all I saw was her silhouette shaking it's head from side to side. I remember Mom breaking down and buying Tim and I a 'Slip and Slide'. I remember her throwing my first and only birthday party. It was awesome.
I remember Mom holding me in her lap as she drove me to the hospital after falling out of an U.S.Army truck whose tailgate was Not latched closed.


After the divorce from Dad, Mom went to school full time, worked full time and provided for Tim and I in a way that was truly remarkable, providing us with not only food and shelter, but with an Apple IIc, and relatively fashionable clothes. Against a lot of momentum, Mom fought her way back to upper middle-class, buying a house, starting her own business and eventually helping me to buy a restaurant.


Grandma Macy was the best mother a kid like me could have asked for. So many of my life skills I learned from her, because she thought it important that I do my own cooking, laundry and cleaning. She taught me to stand up for myself, and she also stood up for me. Like the time when we moved from Tallahassee to Durham, N.C. and the my new teacher would paddle me in front of the class everyday for asking her to repeat herself, as I did not understand a single word of 'southern drawl'. A letter sent to her by that teacher, explaining the reasoning behind my public humiliation was spellchecked, misspelled words circled and graded with a big, fat, red ink "F".

For my childhood and much of my adult life, my mother has been a hero to me. A fighter with such raw courage as to make anything seem feasible. The world seemed comfortable and safe to me, largely due to her. I love her very much, and know she would have LOVED to meet you.


In the latter years, her and I had some rough times. The relationship of Son/Mother fractured a bit and a real rift formed between us. If you want, someday we can talk about the last part of her life. For now know she was Irish and without a doubt, one of the best cooks I have ever had the privilege to be served by. And, she was a fantastic Mother!!! Those three things should be enough for you to begin with. Maybe we'll talk some more over some King Taco Salad.

Ma

A long time a ago, I owned and ran a restaurant in downtown Olympia. It was a quaint vegetarian/seafood place, with a focus on locally grown and organic foods. With the help of my mother, my girlfriend and several other friends I was able to own and operate my own business for 3 years. Then we had to close shop, due to a lack of income, ...well technically that is.



The failure of the Pleasant Peasant Restaurant and even the opening of it were driven largely by fear. I was fearful that if I did not take the opportunity to buy the restaurant at that moment it was presented, that I would not have another chance to do so. I was afraid that If I did not come up with some sort of economic plan that I would end up in poverty for the rest of my life. I was afraid that my family and peers would look at me as a failure, if I did not do something with my life that 1.) changed the world. 2.) made me a little renown. Towards the end, the financial fears were cumulative and completely dispiriting.


Perhaps if I had managed to work some sort of goal relating to the monetary success of the business, I would still be working there. Actually, I lacked lots of prerequisites for operating a viable company. Mostly though, I wasn't convinced that I was where I wanted to be. In the end I ended up accomplishing both goals, though not in the way I had anticipated.


This morning your mother and I are headed to a breakfast potluck. This is the second of gatherings that aim to reunite everyone involved in what was, in the end, a respectable attempt to change the world for the better. We all had our various takes on what we were doing, and I think we affected our local world in a positive way, generally speaking. There will be ex-girlfriends, old flames and old conceptions present, I am sure. The caliber of the people attending though, ensure these to be in passing. At one time though, at least for me, some of these people evoked heady emotions and in some cases anger and confusion. It is by these kind people's grace (and mine as well I suppose) that we all meet, in what I suspect will be harmony.


I wanted to make special note of your mother, Owen. Who for the past year or so has shown a lot of trust and patience in agreeing to accompany me to the various
functions that have reunited me with so many people from my past. She has shown graciousness and true friendliness in situations that I would find VERY challenging. So, know this about your mother......she is a kind, loving soul who has sacrificed much of her comfort, to aid both you and I. It is up to us to let her know it is appreciated.

Wholeness

Dear Owen,

I would like to take a moment to talk about Spirituality. A bit of a slippery subject to tackle, but i think an essential part of being a happy human. Some folks seem to get through life just fine without a belief in an unseen, unifying force giving all of life an impetus to connect with itself. I am not one of these people. Either a genius or a fool, it matters not to me that others may judge my belief in a God. Many have no idea if what I mean when I say the word 'God'.



In my life, I have had several instances where I was utterly confused and felt alone. Perhaps you will not have this problem. I think it is possible not to need to experience this illusion, but perhaps it is a common experience we must all share. When I have found myself in these situations; lonely, sad and anguished, I have called out to the vast emptiness of the starry Universe......and it answered me back. Sometimes with a shooting star, sometimes with a call from a relative or friend. There was an unseen connective 'tissue' that was so faint I forgot it was there. Whether chemical or physical in some other way, the best way for me to describe this connection is to call it 'Whol-e Spirit.' A loving presence in my life, that has always been with me, even if I ignored it.

One book that has helped me the most, to comprehend what I felt to be true about this Oneness, is Conversations with God by Neale Donald Walsch. It is a fantastically easily read description of a cosmology that I subscribe to, almost completely. I don't know why the author's long, wavy grey hair bugs me....but it does.
If you can get past the author's cover, the philosophy within is lovely. If you ever feel bad about yourself, about what you have done, not done or are dismayed with the world, I would recommend you open this book up. There are several books in this series, and I come back to them again and again. So much hope offered.

As a plant follows the sun, so too should we have 'intention'. This is also called 'Spirituality'. A dirty word among some intellectuals. Yet, there is a truth that we are a part of, that is much bigger than us. So big it may be hard to see. That, at times, may seem as far away from us as a star. We are connected to that bright star, though. As the great scientist Carl Sagan said,

"....we are literally made from star stuff."

It seems that younger folks have a much more solid understanding of this truth of oneness. As if this is a foregone conclusion. Perhaps you will not need a book such as this. That would be an advancement for the species, I presume.

Welcome to the World Dear One

Hello Owen. I am your Father....your Pa. I became your Pa officially on January 13, 2010. I was there, for the whole thing. I saw your brave mother, Coral, usher you into this world. Her mother was there, a woman named Diksha and several other women. They were all mothers and each one cared for you as you came into the world. I hope that you feel this care and concern for you, your entire life...for I will always have it for you to draw on.

The last couple of days you have been rolling about the floor. I have cleverly named you 'RollinOwen'. You shoot your right arm up and slightly behind you like a bull rider and your massive round head follows. For the last couple of mornings, it's the first thing you do in bed.

You sleep with your mother at night and you and I sometimes take naps together. You like to lay on my chest. I have and I believe you will have a broad chest. You almost certainly will fall asleep, shortly after I place you there. I then roll you to the side and go play some video games. I check on you about every 20 minutes to make sure you are still breathing.

Your Uncle Tim, my brother, gave me the idea to start writing a blog for you. So that you may understand how you became you. I will try not to embarrass you too much. This blog will largely be about my issues and how they might relate to you. Maybe you will find it helpful.

I am 41 years old, what many consider half-way done with this life here on Earth. I am not sure I believe that, but I have been around for some time now and I know this; Life is Spectacular. There is so much to see, so much to understand, so much is at your fingertips. This is especially true for you. You are EXTREMELY fortunate to have caring parents, food shelter and clothing. You live in a day and age where information and knowledge is readily available, and practically instantaneous. It has not always been this way.

As you come into this world, beginning to perceive it's wonders, you'll notice things that seem 'not quite right'. AS we speak, humans have punctured a hole into the very body that sustains them, injuring themselves quite severely. We seem to have an insatiable appetite for everything. When you see examples of this, please remember that there is also peace and beauty here. Sometimes you just have to wait a bit for it.

We waited to have you....and now you are here. You have brought a lot of laughter and pleasure to my life. Some say that babies bring joy.....I do not agree. I had joy before you came, but now I have someone to share it with. I get moments of fear, fleeting as they are, concerning your future.....but mostly I am honored. I look forward, very much, to getting to know you. I Love you, and Welcome.