Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 144

Hoop dreams

When I was about 15 years-old, I played in my town’s youth basketball league. I averaged about 8 points per game and was the third or fourth leading scorer on our team. The coach positioned me in the post for most plays, theoretically putting me in a position to post up my defender, though a pass rarely made it in my direction.

Instead, I did a lot of boxing out, using my strength and leverage to force opponents under and away from the basket, allowing me to grab a lot of rebounds and occasionally putting one through the hoop.

Halfway through the season, our coach missed a game, and the assistant coach, a quiet man, took over. Just before tipoff, he took me aside and said, “Find your shot today. If’ you’re open, don’t be afraid shoot. Use your legs. Be aggressive.”

I scored 26 points that day. I led my team in scoring and rebounding. I called for the ball when I had position on my opponent. I was looking for the ball on the fast break. I was cutting through the lane with authority. I was fouling hard.

We won the game by double digits – one of the few victories we would enjoy that year. It was the best game of organized basketball I had ever played.

A few days later, my coach returned. “How the hell did you score 22 points?” he asked. “And why did you save it for the one game I missed?”

Then he promptly returned me to the post and rarely fed me the ball. I promptly returned to form.

It was the first time in my life that I understood how a person can make you better simply by making you think differently about yourself. The assistant coach didn’t teach me how to shoot or dribble or pass better. He didn’t offer me an ounce of actual instruction. He simply expressed confidence in me and made me feel like I had the freedom to play the game well.

It was one of those life lessons you never forget. It’s a life lesson I bring to my classroom everyday. It’s sounds ridiculous, but if you tell a kid that they write well, their writing (and their effort) will dramatically improve. If you tell a kid that they are a skilled mathematician, they will be more willing to tackle complex problems, experiment with different ways of solving problems, and be more willing to make mistakes. If you tell a kid that they are a role model for their classmates, they will often begin acting as a role model for others.

I’m not lying to any of these kids. I’m simply expressing confidence in their ability to be great. Oftentimes, that’s all a kid needs to pursue greatness.

I remember the name of the coach of that basketball team, but I don’t remember the assistant coach’s name, which is a damn shame. He’ll never know how one game of basketball changed my life – and perhaps the lives of countless students – for decades.

The Walk of Life Project

Last week it was miniature crochet.

Today I offer another bit of remarkable, inventive, never-before-seen artistry:

The Walk of Life Project 

Based upon the hypothesis that “Walk of Life” by Dire Straits is the perfect song to end any movie.

I had my doubts before diving in, but creator Peter Salamone is doing a damn good job convincing me that his hypothesis is true. He’s re-cut the endings of more than 50 film so far, including his recently released Edgar Wright series, and hasn’t failed to deliver.

I love the project. I love the idea, the ambition behind the idea, and the execution id the idea.

But what I love most of all is its originality. Once again a maker of things has found a creative lane entirely of his own and made something new and previously unimaginable.

It makes a novelist, storyteller, and comedian like me seem almost pedestrian.

The Walk of Life Project.

I’m obsessed.

I hope you enjoy.

 

Squid Game is not Kid Game

This paragraph was a part of the weekly newsletter sent home from our son’s elementary school last week:

Squid Games: We were recently informed that some students were replicating games in the popular Netflix series Squid Games. While the games themselves in their purest form are harmless and were played by many of us as youngsters, the area of concern is the discussion and replication of the elimination of players. Students are reportedly pretending to shoot others when they have been eliminated. Please discuss with your student and inform them the latter is unacceptable.
______________________________

The students in my son’s school range in age from kindergarten through fourth grade, which led me to ask, with all sincerity:

What the hell is wrong with people?

Why are children watching Squid Game?

Are parents incapable of saying no to their children?

Last week, while sitting at home, recovering from surgery, I decided to watch an episode of Squid Game to see what this hype was all about.  When I was finished watching the episode, I knew two things:

This show is incredibly, gratuitously, and indiscriminately violent.No child should ever watch this show.

When I say “I knew two things,” I mean I know these two things as absolute, undeniable facts.

The show is indisputably violent. This isn’t to say that the violence is inappropriate or negative on face value. I’m not opposed to the depiction of violence in film and television. It’s just a fact that this particular show depicts violence in an incredibly gruesome way.

Also, it’s indisputable that children should not watch this show. There is no way in hell that any child in my son’s elementary school should watch this show.

If a parent has allowed their child to watch this show, I can only assume that one of these things happened:

The parent in question lacks sound judgment of any kind.The parent in question possesses sound parental judgement but are incapable of saying no to their children for one of a multitude of tragic reasons.The parent in question has not established adequate safeguards to ensure that their children can’t watch this show unsupervised.

It’s disturbing beyond measure that children in my son’s school may have watched this show. I really can’t believe it. I’m hoping that this message from my son’s school is addressing the behavior of an infinitesimally small group of children who somehow managed to watch the show without their parent’s knowledge.

Or maybe the children didn’t watch the show at all but picked up on the plot by overhearing conversation from people much older than themselves.

It would still be a disastrous outcome, but it’s the best one I can envision.

For the record, I don’t think I’ll be finishing Squid Game. While I am admittedly curious about how the show plays out, I also found the indiscriminate, gratuitous violence of the first episode slightly disturbing.

Perhaps I’ll read the Wikipedia summary of the show to satisfy my curiosity.

 

New Yorkers, it’s not funny and it’s stupid

Dearest New Yorkers,

I love your city dearly. I spend as much time in your boroughs as possible. I’m a rabid fan of the New York Yankees despite having grown up near Boston. I couldn’t imagine living more than a couple of hours from your great metropolis.

I love New York.

But also this:

Every joke about tourists blocking your sidewalks, staring at your buildings, stopping for photos, and slowing traffic is lazy, stupid, and disingenuous.

Every single one.

New York City profits enormously from tourism.

$19.3 billion in tax revenues alone.

The city would be economically hobbled without it.

So shut up, New Yorkers. Every permutation of that stupid tourist joke and whiny tourist complaint has already been made.

It’s not funny. It’s never been funny.

Worst of all, it’s already been said at least 19.3 billion times.

He came back.

I was consulting with a client on Thursday afternoon. This is quite the feat given how difficult my recovery from surgery has been. Just settling down into my desk chair has been a chore filled with pain, aching, and a multitude of tiny adjustments in order to get comfortable.

I was 15 minutes into the meeting when Charlie banged on my office door and told me that there was a man at the front door. I couldn’t believe it. Getting up and back down again was not going to be easy.

I excused myself, rose from the chair, and made my way over to the front door. Standing on my front stoop was a man with a clipboard.

I was already annoyed.

I pushed open the door with some effort, leaned out, and said, “Can I help you?”

He was a salesperson. H wanted to talk to me about installing solar panels on the roof of my house.

“I can’t talk,” I said. “I’m in a meeting. I’m recovering from surgery. I’m not interested.”

“Is there a better time for me to come back?” he asked.

“”No,” I said. “I’m not interested.”

“There’s really no better time for us to talk?”

I couldn’t believe it. Did I just hear what I thought I heard? Wrapped in an abdominal brace that he could clearly see, wincing in pain, pulled away from a client, I told this guy that I wasn’t interested in his solar panels, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“No,” I shot back. “There is no better time. There won’t ever be a better time. Get off my stoop and off my property. I may put solar panels on my roof someday, but it is now my mission in life to make sure that the last thing I do is put your company’s solar panels on my roof. Now get lost!”

Charlie heard most of the conversation, so as I gleefully fired back at this man, I was also taking note that I might need to clean this up with my son later on. Somehow correct the terrible example I had just set.

But here’s the crazy thing:

He came back. I was sitting on the couch yesterday, reading a book, when the doorbell rang. I was expecting an appliance repair person and a home inspector to stop by over the course of the day, so I assumed that it was one of these two people, but no.

It was him. Same guy. Smiling at me like nothing had happened the day before.

Once again, I had been forced to lift myself from of a semi-comfortable position and hobble over to the door, so my anger was off the charts when I saw him standing there with his clipboard and smile.

I opened the door and said, “I told you yesterday that there would never be a better time.”

“I just wanted to be sure,” he said. “People sometimes change their minds.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I have changed my mind. I thought you were just a pushy salesperson yesterday. Now I know that you’re a horrible, clueless human being.”

“Have a nice day,” he said and walked away.

This is the kind of person who gives salespeople a bad name. I despise that man.

Also, if I owned a company in need of a salesperson, I would hire that man in a heartbeat.

Crochet but so much more than crochet

Look at this. It’s crochet. Miniature crochet, except that miniature is too large a word to describe this.

It’s astounding.

The artist is Lucia Dolgopolova. Work available on Etsy.

I like to think of myself as a creative person, but my creativity occupies a traditional, pedestrian, rather ordinary lane.

This is something so much more.

Absolutely astounding.

RIP Uncle Larry

Elysha’s great uncle Larry passed away on Tuesday.

I’ve known Larry for more than 15 years. Whenever I had the opportunity to spend time with him, he asked lots of questions and listened carefully, which are the indisputable signs of a decent, intelligent, caring human being.

Larry was a teacher. An artist. A husband and father.

Larry always said the same thing to me when we met:

Someday you and I are going to sit down and talk about storytelling. Books. Writing. Teaching. All the things we both love so dearly.

We never did.

We enjoyed snippets of conversation about these things. Occasional outbursts of thought and inquiry at holidays and family gatherings. Not nearly enough.

The world is short one teacher and one artist today. It’s short a beloved husband and father.

The world is short one decent, intelligent, caring human being.

There’s never enough time.

We never make enough time.

How very stupid of me.

Rest in peace, Uncle Larry.

Worst pain ever

Since my hernia surgery, I’ve heard from some readers that the pain they experienced post-hernia-surgery was the worst they’d ever experienced.

I appreciate their expressions of empathy.

I’ll admit, the pain is not good. Not the worst ever, but certainly memorable. I thankfully turned a bit of a corner yesterday in terms of the suffering. I still can’t cough or even clear my throat without considerable pain, but I can sit fairly still and feel comfortable.

I can’t feel parts of my left leg, which is odd, slightly inexplicable, confusing to the doctors, and therefore disconcerting, but at least it’s not painful,

Sort of the opposite of pain, really. Numbness and an utter lack of sensation of any kind.

Hopefully it goes away soon.

But all of this led me to wonder what is the worst pain I’d ever experienced.

I went head first through a windshield when I was 17 years-old, for example, tearing open my knees to the bone, breaking ribs, and dislodging the entire bottom row of my teeth in the process, but shock immediately took over, removing most of the initial pain of the accident.

Wiring that chunk of teeth back into my jaw in the emergency room makes the list as one of the most painful things ever – quite high on the list, in fact – but the initial injuries from the accident were horrific but startlingly painless.

Awakening from my hernia surgery in the recovery room was admittedly very bad. It took the nurses about ten minutes to get my pain under control, so for a few minutes, I couldn’t believe how much it hurt. A nurse asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10, and I answered with a 9 but only because I wanted to leave room for a 10 if things continued to get worse.

I honestly couldn’t imagine more pain.

I also sneezed one day after my surgery. Thankfully my family was across the street at a pre-Halloween birthday party, so they didn’t see me weep after the sneeze. The pain was indescribable. That sneeze, and the subsequent pain, definitely makes the list.

When I was in my late teens, hot oil from a McDonald’s fryer was accidentally poured on my hand, which resulted in incredible pain initially and ongoing pain for about 48 hours. I finished my shift at McDonald’s with my right hand in a bucket of ice water, and it took more than a day before I could tolerate the pain without any ice. I’ve got scars on my hand from the first few drops of oil that hit my skin.

That incident makes the list, too.

But the worst pain I’ve ever felt happened in the fall of 1996 while working at a McDonald’s restaurant in Hartford, Connecticut. I was closing the safe – a large, incredibly heavy door – and got distracted, resulting in my slamming of the safe door on my right thumb.

Nothing in my life has hurt as much as that pain. I screamed like I have never screamed before.

My friend and coworker, George, rushed me to the hospital, but I remember thinking along the way that if George could end my life right now, I might allow it. I ran into the emergency room, still screaming, clutching my hand, staring at a thumb that had grown three or four times its original size.

Without even speaking a word to me, a doctor approached with a scalpel, grabbed hold of my wrist, told me to freeze, and made a small incision down the center of my thumb, release blood and pressure and reducing the pain exponentially.

“Sweet relief” was precisely what I felt as blood oozed down my hand and wrist.

When it comes to the list of most painful experiences in my life, the slamming of a safe door on my thumb was worst. Nothing in my life has hurt as much.

That sneeze the other day came close, but it was fleeting compared with my thumb. Excruciating but short lived.

Hopefully everything moving forward pales in comparison.

 

Resolution update: October 2021

Every month I report the progress of my yearly goals in order to monitor progress (or the lack thereof) and hold myself accountable.  The following are the result from October 2021.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Hernia surgery complete.

I was later told about several people who died during this same surgery, but thankfully, I was only informed about their demise after my own surgery was complete. It’s going to be a while before I can resume normal activities, and I am frankly shocked by the number and size of the incisions on my chest and belly, but I am alive and well.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I had lost three more pounds in October – 15 pounds in total for 2021 – then I had surgery. Now I weigh 11 pounds more than pre-surgery.

11 pounds!

I was weighed just prior to surgery, and then I was weighed again the next day, and I weighed 11 pounds more!

Apparently this is normal following abdominal surgery.

The most common cause of weight gain after surgery is fluid retention, also known as postoperative edema. Edema occurs when extra fluid builds up in your body to respond to inflammation and promote healing. It may also be caused by intravenous fluids given during surgery.

But 11 pounds? Nearly a dozen pounds of fluid just sloshing around inside of me?

What the hell am I supposed to do with this goal now?

I’ve decided to ignore this goal completely in October. Forget the three pounds lost before the surgery and just assume (and hope) that I am still down just 12 pounds in 2021.

Hopefully things are back to normal at the end of November.

3. Do at least 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 3 one-minute planks for five days a week.

All of these exercises have stopped before and after my hernia surgery. I can’t do a single push up, sit up, or plank until January 1, 2022.

It’s killing me.

I may need my friend and personal trainer, Erica Newfang, to help me get back on track once I’m healed. I’m going to be a damn weakling by the time this is over.

4. Cycle for at least 5 days every week.

Zero rides in October in preparation for hernia surgery. Once I am pain free, though, I can resume riding the stationary bike (no regular bike until January) so hopefully 2-3 weeks from now, I’ll be pedaling again.

5. Set a new personal best in golf.

Done! I shot a 44 for 9 holes at Rockledge Golf Course.

I also managed to shoot a 5-over-par 36 on a par 31 executive course. By far a personal best for that course, too.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel before the end of 2021.

Progress continues on this novel, but there is a twist:

I wrote a memoir years ago about a summer spent playing golf, and this may be the next book we try to launch into the world, so I am getting my memoir into shape first.

Nevertheless, writing continues.

7. Complete Someday is Today before the end of 2021. 

DONE!

8. Complete Storyworthy 2 before the end of 2021.

DONE! I sent the first draft of this book (it might be two books) to my agent for her review. Given that I finished another book on storytelling before the book I have under contract, I may need to wait a bit before we sell Storyworthy 2, but it looks promising.

9. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist, and one protagonist who is not neurotypical.

I’ve begun writing my first and second picture books of 2021, plus I have an idea for a third.

One is nearly finished.

The other is outlined. Excited about both.

But I’ll need to get my ass in gear if I hope to finish any of them this year.

10. Write 40,000 words of a memoir.

Progress! More than 19,000 words written!

11. Write a new screenplay.

Progress! I have a writing partner who is working on the first pass of The Other Mother, then I will parachute in and do a pass of my own.

12. Write a solo show.

Work continues in earnest. I haven’t met with my collaborators since March, but it’s simply because I was consumed with finishing Someday is Today. 

But I have been making solid progress.

13. Write a musical.

My partner, Kaia, made great progress thanks to The Moth’s change in schedule for a StorySLAM and their failure to notify me. The first half of the show is outlined, and writing has begun.

14. Submit at least five Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

Two pieces submitted and rejected by the New York Times in 2021. Again, I need to get my ass in gear if I hope to make this happen.

15. Submit one or more short stories to at least three publishing outlets.

No progress.

16. Select two behaviors that I am opposed to and adopt them for one week, then write about my experiences on the blog.

No progress.

I still need to write about my experiences with ASMR and my reading of 50 Shades of Grey from last year.

This has been a big, fat failure.

If you have suggestions on something I should try or adopt, please let me know. I’m struggling to find new things to try.

17. Increase my newsletter subscriber base to 6,000 (from 4,497).

I added another 47 subscribers in October for a total of 5,043.

If you’d like to sign up for my newsletter, you can do so here:

18. Send a newsletter to readers at least 25 times (every other week). 

Two newsletters sent in October.

A total of 17 newsletters sent so far in 2021. I’ll need to increase my output in these final two months in order to reach my goal.

19. Write at least six letters to my father.

Two letters in total sent in 2021.

20. Write 100 letters in 2021.

A total of 20 letters written and sent in October. Mostly to former students. Two prank letters. One written to a business in thanks for their service.

A total of 88 letters written and mailed so far in 2021.

21. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

I’ve passed this task onto my assistant, Kaia. Given that I have no eye for design, she will ultimately do a better job than I ever could.

22. Complete and release my limited episode podcast on “Twenty-One Truths About Love.”

DONE. Completed and published. You can listen to the five episode series in the Speak Up Storytelling feed.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

23. Produce a total of 6 Speak Up storytelling events.

DONE!

Elysha and I produced a Voices of Hope show featuring the children and grandchildren of Holocaust survivors, plus the child of a Bosnian genocide survivor and an actual Rwandan genocide survivor.

Six shows so far in 2021.

We’ve also scheduled shows (depending on the pandemic) with the Copper Beech Institute and the Connecticut Historical Society for the fall.

24. Pitch myself to at least 3 upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.

DONE! I pitched talks to TEDx events in New Haven, Boston University, and Salem University.

I await word.

I also delivered a talk at TEDx Berkshires on July 24. It went well. You can watch it here.

25. Pitch myself to Master Class at least three times in 2021. 

One pitch made so far in 2021.

Anyone know anyone? Anyone have a thought about how I might get their attention? Anyone want to organize a Matthew Dicks rally outside of Master Class headquarters?

26. Attend at least 5 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

DONE! I’ve performed in a total of six Moth events in 2021 – three live StorySLAMs, one virtual StorySLAM, and two virtual GrandSLAMs.

I was supposed to attend a StorySLAM in October in Boston, but The Moth’s scheduling snafu screwed that up,

Including events where I didn’t perform, this brings my total to 11 events in 2021.

27. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

DONE! I won my 53rd Moth StorySLAM in September in Boston. My second Moth StorySLAM victory of 2021.

I also won the story slam at the International Festival for Arts and Ideas in New Haven, Connecticut in June.

28. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

DONE!

I won my seventh Moth GrandSLAM in May.

I9. Produce at least 25 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

No episodes recorded in October. My assistant, Kaia, is now editing the podcast, which will make things a little easier for us, but we still failed to record.

A total of 14 episodes so far in 2021.

30. Perform stand-up at least 3 times in 2021.

No progress, but my friend, David, has a solid 5-10 minutes of material and is ready to give standup a shot. As soon as open mics are running again, we’ll be there, ready to perform.

31. Pitch at least three stories to This American Life.

No progress.

32. Pitch myself to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast at least three times.

One pitch made so far in 2021.

33. Produce at least 12 new videos for my YouTube channel in 2021. 

No videos produced in October. One video so far in 2021. But I will be recording content for a new business that I am launching with a partner, so this may need to wait.

Also, my production assistant will be digitizing content on DVDs that can be uploaded soon.

34. Explore a means of producing my storytelling instruction asynchronously for an online platform.

DONE! Partners found. Contracts signed. We are on our way!

HOME

35. Print, hang, and/or display at least 25 prints, photos, or portraits in our home.

Work has commenced! Elysha has hung three pieces of art in the living room. Much more to do, but it’s a start.

Someone was scheduled to come last month to assist Elysha. That didn’t happen, so I’m hoping it will happen soon.

36. Assemble an emergency preparedness kit.

DONE! I purchased a pre-packaged survival kit and have since been added needed items, including a seed kit, survival straws, emergency blankets, N-95 masks, duct tape, and some personal items.

37. Clear the basement.

Several items removed every week in October along with trash pickup.

Incrementalism at work, though a full day commitment would be ideal. Sadly, my hernia recovery will prevent me from lifting anything heavy for eight weeks.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

38. Call brother or sister once per week. 

My sister and I spoke on the phone once in October.

No calls to my brother.

39. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

Done!

40. Take at least one photo with Elysha and myself each week.

No photos taken of Elysha and me in October. Big fail.

41. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress, but an online reunion feels quite doable now.

42. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about physical appearance of any person save my wife and children, in 2021 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done.

43. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2021.

DONE!

Ten surprises so far.

In January, I surprised Elysha by sending flowers to her while at work on her birthday. They were reportedly some of the best flowers she has ever received.

In February, I surprised Elysha with a Pusheen knit hat. It was actually a replacement hat after the one I purchased for her birthday did not fit.

In May, I sent Elysha some especially awesome flowers that caused her colleagues to comment repeatedly about the quality of the arrangement.

In May, I surprised Elysha with weekend plans on Martha’s Vineyard for our anniversary.

In June, I surprised Elysha with Springsteen on Broadway tickets.

Also in June, I sent a cleverly designed card to her school, timed to arrive during the last week of classes.

Also in June, I cleaned the litter boxes for her during her last week of school when things got busy. Having cleaned the litter boxes for out last two cats, she’s agreed that this chore is hers for these cats.

In July, I surprised Elysha with a pile of anniversary presents after we agreed that our trip to Martha’s Vineyard would be our gift to each other.

In August, I surprised Elysha by signing her up for the Pusheen Fan Club. Every three months she will receive a box filled with Pusheen paraphernalia. In August it was beach-themed.

In September, I sent a vase of flowers on the first day of school to Elysha and a second vase of flower for her students.

44. Play poker at least six times in 2021.

Two games so far in 2021.

Three scheduled but cancelled games because of poor attendance.

45. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

Bengi and I DJ’d a wedding in May.

One day spent in 2021 so far. But I’m trying.

NEW PROJECTS

46. Play music in class.

Done.

Sam Cooke, Stevie Wonder, Tom Petty, ELO, CCR, Aretha Franklin, and Dolly Parton played in October.

47. Learn to play the piano by practicing at least three times a week. 

Done.

I averaged a little more than 3 days of practice per week in October.

48. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

I’m passing this assignment off to Kaia. I’ve also been offered some suggestions from a friend.  Between the two…

49. Memorize 5 new poems.

I’ve memorized “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. Admittedly I knew more than half of it before I began, and I will continue to need to reinforce it before I am sure that it’s committed to memory for good, but it’s essentially done.

I also memorized “Dust of Snow.”

I’m still working on “In Flanders Field” by John McCrae. For the sixth month. I thought I had it, but I don’t.

I’m also working on “Harlem,” “This Is Just to Say,” and “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.”

Closing in on all three.

50. Write to at least 3 colleges about why they should hire me.

No progress.

51. Understand Instagram better.

No progress.

52. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

No progress.

53. Post my progress in terms of these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Done. One day late but I had surgery so too bad.

Unexpectedly, fleeting, teary-eyed gratitude

Sunday afternoon.

I’m sitting on my couch, watching the football game. The window to my right is open. I can hear the neighborhood children playing in my backyard. A cool, fall breeze is sweeping across the room.

One of my cats is sitting on the windowsill, watching the birds. The other is sleeping between my legs.

Elysha is folding laundry to my left, telling me about the neighbor’s birthday party scheduled for later today.

My son, Charlie, worried about my post-surgery pain, gently hugs me.

Somewhere upstairs, Clara is undoubtedly reading a book.

Despite my pain and immobility, it’s pretty spectacular.

It’s one of these unexpected, fleeting moments of overwhelming, all-consuming gratitude that I experience from time to time… singular moments in time when I can’t quite believe the life I have today.

It sometimes, oftentimes feels like yesterday when I was homeless, jobless, and worst of all, hopeless, facing a possible prison sentence, absolutely certain that I would never live a normal life again. Never own a home. Never have a family. Never know the joy and ease of a lazy Sunday afternoon.

It feels like yesterday that I was contemplating a move to Florida so at least I’d be warm while homeless.

It was 30 years ago – three full decades – but it still insanely feels like last week.

It know it sounds silly and ridiculous, but something as simple as a windowsill – my windowsill, affixed to a window that I own – can suddenly flood me with eyes-welling-with-tears gratitude.

A couch.

A television.

A room with a roof.

An honest-to-goodness family.

A tiny, overwhelming moment that I can’t quite believe.