I am in a warm, deep, reflective mood even if it’s a “brrrrr” 44 degrees outside. That inner glow has taken me back twelve years to the time I wrote a poem as a dedication to a dear friend, a neat person, Beverly Firestone, a.k.a. “Joysong,” who was then dying of cancer. I called it, “You Tell Me; You Don’t Say.” The end read: “You tell me you are a wife or husband, sister or brother; a daughter or son; a father or mother a thinker of this or doer of that; a friend or foe, an -ist or an -er. When there are no roles to describe, and there are no masks to wear, and there are no others to point to, you don’t say who you are.” So, when we cannot say what we know and what we do and what we have, when we cannot talk of titles and positions and resumes or labels, who are we?
It’s my birthday in three days. My mother always said that I should have been born on Halloween rather than All Saints’ Day. Anyway, I don’t believe I’ll be 72. The only way I feel it is because of this damn retirement. Other than that, I feel like I haven’t left my youth. I power walk three miles every other day, lift modest weights every other day, mediate every day, all of which keeps me in physical, mental, and spiritual shape. I guess that’s why I always identify myself as an “experienced teenager.” Or, as Jefferson said, “I am an old man, but a young gardener.” That is to say, the child within me is alive and kicking. If you saw how my old office was decorated, you’d understand. But, now with reluctant retirement pending in exactly one month and two days, as I listen to Jean Valjean in Les Miserable sing “Who Am I,” I thought I’d take stock of myself and share it with you. How to do that? I’ve come to the conclusion that the object of another birthday, like a new year, is not to add another year, but to have new heart. So, who am I? But, what does that mean? It means, as Shakespeare had Cassius say, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” For me, therefore, in something of a disorderly fashion that is dear to my heart, it means:
I am a liver of life, especially after having survived cancer and what should have been a death dealing cerebral hemorrhage, reveling in this precious minute
I am an unconditonal lover of love, a believer in belief, deeply respect respect, appreciate appreciation, consider consideration, faithful to faith, kind to kindliness, and trusting in trust–every day.
I don’t waste time being frustrated and annoyed–struggling with that one right now with this unexpected retirement coming on me.
I don’t waste time being afraid; “Can’t” isn’t in my vocabulary any more than is the restricting and escaping and risk averting “be careful,” “act your age,” “be real;” I am a risk taker, darer, venturer.
I don’t cut myself off from goodness by being angry–struggling to do that right now with this unwanted retirement coming on me.
I hate gossip and rumor; I don’t poor mouth others.
I am a people person; more important, I am a one person at a time person, liking and appreciating each of them, of all ages from all walks of life
I am not a generalizer or stereotyper; and if I speak otherwise, it is a convenience of conversation, not a perception of reality
I believe doing something important is more important than than being important; I don’t want or seek or need rewards and recognitions.
I struggle to be a positive and have a positive impact on another’s life.
I practice respectful honesty over harmony
I am in love with a very special woman who treats me as a very special person
I adore serendipity, dislike mindless routine; can’t stand enslaving ruts
I am a challenger, wanting to have my question of “why” answered before I commit; for myself, I revel in the purposeful “why” of things rather than just the doing “what” and “how.”
I am not a groveler, “yes man,” or an ass kisser; I am not a compromiser of values; and, I am willing to and have paid the consequent price–sometimes heavy price.
I am high energy and always on the move mentally, physically, and spiritually; I feel out of sorts when I can’t exercise and work to stay trim
I occasionally write poems, sculpt, and wok
I am my own person; I don’t care to jump on or ride on bandwagons; I am not a fan of any kind of fad, fashion, or gimmick. I am an iconoclast
I love to sing–always off key–to myself.
I am a “let’s see what happens” quester with an insatiable curiosity; I am an adventurer, loving to experiment, but not with drugs; I love to learn; I am a kind of renaissance guy who is interested in all sorts of things
I hate ties; they feel like nooses
I’m not wild about dressing up in suits,
I like stylish, colorful, and different things that suit my less than conservative taste
I struggle not to be judgmental
I love to change and grow; I love learning; and, I don’t mind making mistakes or am afraid to fail because it means I’m doing something; I don’t look back in safety, but forward to growth
I don’t see, want, or need guarantees
I am a smiler, a laugher, a punster, but not a practical joker.
I have very thick skin; I don’t let very much get to me, having survived cancer and a massive cerebral hemorrhage
I love my children, their wives, and adore my grandmunchkins
I am nothing without my Susie
I am a toucher, especially of my Susie
I am a listen to music with an eclectic taste
I treasure true happiness
I am enamored with all the new technology, but am not enslaved to it or by it; it’s only a tool.
I never give advice
I am respectfully candid
I’m a listener; I listen more with my eyes than with my ears
I live in a state of “organized chaos,” not the neatest of people; leave my clothes lying around; leave empty boxes in the pantry and refrigerator as well as leaving cabinet doors open; drives my Susie nuts
I am a problem perceiver before I am a problem solver
I am calmness
I am a handy fixer-upper; I love to work with my hands as well as my mind, and, so respect anyone who works with either
I have been remodeling the house for nearly 40 years, although I don’t always pay attention to minute details and can ignore them for 40 years
I live in my now, knowing I should be dead, I don’t worry about tomorrow
I have an eye for art that Susan and I modestly collect
I have an eye for Susan
I do love Susie’s cheesecake–and her meat loaf and goulash–culinary delights.
I live my “Word For The Day” each day; today it is “rejoiceful”
I am what I eat: I am a chocoholic, but don’t like much made with it; I hate peanut butter although I love peanuts; “fruitoholic,” a “fishoholic;” I gulp down raisins every day; I don’t like broccoli or okra or collards; to me they are proof God is not a perfect creator, but I do love my grits; I devour pecans, but not in a pie; I can’t stomach fast foods; I have no control when ice cream and fruit pies are within reach.
I very much like to travel and experience people in other cultures, but I am a horrible tourist since I want to experience places at my pace rather than have to stick to a schedule
I do relish my morning cups of coffee to start my day
I do relish my end of day “medicinal” glass of red wine and piece of Manchego cheese with Susie
I am a 4 am early riser–let’s see how long that lasts after I retire
I take deep, near-coma, refreshing, reinvigorating power naps each day
I am giddy by the fact I can see clearly, that the cataract surgery took me from “blind-as-a-batness” to 20-20 vision
I am so damn proud for my two sons and what each has achieved; I love my two neat daughter-in-laws; I revel in spoiling my three grandmunchkins rotten; but, first and last, Susie comes first and last.
I don’t smoke, never did.
I don’t drink and drive–fanatic about that.
I no longer bite my nails, having been a rabid “nailoholic” until the autumn of 1991.
I love giving Susie “just for the hell of it” gifts; don’t do the commercial holidays.
I talk to my flowers in the garden as well as to the koi fish in the something of a Zen fish pond
I light up and feel at peace and safe whenever I am with my Susie
I believe good character is essential to living the good life
I am an intensely emotional guy and make no bones of it, and I can be pragmatic when I want to play the game, both of which combined to make me a “practical romantic” with my feet on the ground and head in the clouds
I don’t hide sorrow or hurt
I really don’t like being labelled or cubby-holed in any manner shape or form because I am a unique, individual “me.” I’m the and only “Louis;” and, I don’t de-personalize others with label.
I am “awareness,” “alertness,” “attentiveness,” and “otherness,” intensely so.
I am empathy and therefore sympathy, sometimes to a fault, if there be such a thing.
I am endless second chances.
I think I’ve pretty much won the war each day against anyone who has tried to make me into the person she or he wants me to be; paid the price for being “me,” but in the scheme of things, it is less than pocket change.
To sum it all up, I am process. I am change. I am growth. I am transformation. Whoever I presently am, I am not the person I was 20 years ago, or 40 years ago, or 60 years ago. Like it or not, none of us are. I am the sum of the consequences of my 1991 epiphany. I am M68ED (Micah 6:8 Every Day). Or, at least, consciously struggle to be. I am authentic. In spite of feeling I am being “forced” into a retirement where I don’t want to go, I am happy, fulfilled, satisfied. I feel I’ve am significant. I know I’ve touched others, and thereby changed the world and altered the future. But, I am not whoever I will be in 20 years, for my after-retirement story still has a few chapters to go.
Louis