Winter Solstice

In the past, December 21 has marked hurricanes, pilgrims landing at Plymouth Rock, the first basketball game, the discovery of radium, and YouTube’s first video with a billion views, to name very few.  This December 21 however, will mark the Winter Solstice and a celebration of the life of Miki Heyne.  She would love the idea of being remembered on the solstice.

A quick refresher…the Winter Solstice is the day of the year when the Earth’s axis is such that the northern hemisphere has its longest night and the Earth is tilted the maximum distance away from the sun.  The solstice is and has been celebrated around the world in many cultures for a reeeeaaally long time.

A friend of Miki’s wrote me today and looked at it this way…”In some ways this time holds feelings of bleakness and emptiness, much like the gap that Miki has left. And yet, this day heralds hope. Slowly, steadily, in the days, weeks, and months following the solstice the days become lighter. We may not feel it or sense it for a long time, but behind this springtime will eventually emerge.  Let us hold on to this knowledge as we make our way through these times.”  Thank you Isabel, for your interpretation on the timing of Miki’s Celebration, I like it a lot.

The Rule Of Three is a writing principle that suggests that things that come in threes are inherently funnier, more satisfying, or more effective than other numbers of things.  Maybe in writing, but in general, I beg to differ.  The converse of that rule happened to me.  You hear bad things happen in threes…see what you think…

#1.  I need to get my hair trimmed up, so I headed to a barbershop in town that was recommended by a couple of friends.  I haven’t paid for a haircut since I’ve known Miki and before that, my oldest sister would cut it.  My last memory of leaving my house to get a hair cut was ninth grade, for basketball tryouts.  I settled into the barber’s chair…facing away from the mirror…and expectations were discussed.  I told him I needed it a little shorter than it was.  He suggested not a “military” cut, but maybe a medium cut.  Sounds good, right?  He doesn’t waste any time and before the plastic sheet protector that protects me from my own hair, billows down around me, a razor with the “medium” attachment is doing laps around my scalp and hair is raining down around me.  The top of my head was left to scissors, a comb, and his lightning dexterity.  He made short work on top and then I felt something lathery on my sideburns and back of my neck…yep, a straight razor cut through the foam and started to define the borders of where hair is still growing.  I got the final brush off.  I did miss the brush off for all those years, I usually just had to hope it was a windy day and stand outside or jump in the shower, so as to not itch the rest of the day.  But my first professional cut in this century was in the books.  He spun me around to see his work in the mirror and with anticipation I saw me with not what I envisioned as a “medium” cut.  I would describe it as the no mans land between a “military” cut and a so-called “medium” cut.  It was very well done and I don’t hate it.  It’s just that I must have had wildly long hair to justify this as medium!

#2.  Seeing how it was in the 60’s today and it is December, you could hear motorcycles out taking advantage of this warm air that seems to be misplaced.  I felt the calling and I joined them, since the bottom of the thermometer will be challenged soon.  My chaps and a few layers on top did the trick to keep me insulated, because on a good day, 60 is my low temperature limit I choose to not ride below.  Wind chills are a powerful intimidator.  I had been riding for about 20 minutes on side roads and decided to hit the highway to Oak Grove and catch a few more home.  As I exit off the highway, my left foot feels for the shift lever, while my left hand works the clutch.  My left foot comes back empty…the shifter has an odd, loose feel to it.  Besides my vocabulary exploding in my head, I keep it together long enough to get my bike and me to a safe location to see what the problem was.  Upon closer inspection, a nut had come off of the shifter that holds it to the linkage that changes the gear in the motor.  Nothing was broken or lying on the side of the road…I can deal with this.  I had to do something to hold the linkage together, so I could get back to the dealership and let them know that the “new” (used) bike I just purchased 5 days ago, was falling apart underneath me, at 70 mph.  Nothing gets a smile faster than a cool statement like that, surrounded by guys with arms the size of my thighs, covered in tats…and I lived to tell about it.  I MacGyvered it back together with a drawstring from my sunglasses bag.  It held and it drew some studly attention to this guy back at the dealership.  At least that is the way I am going to interpret the laughs and looks, while it was being fixed.

3.  Today actually started like any other.  After the dogs eat, they charge out to the backyard at breakneck speed to see whom they can puff out their chests to.  The sprint to the back fence was cut short by the yelps of a dog that sounded like it had been hit by a car.  I turned to see Tooga sitting on the ground, making pain noises like I had never heard him do before.  I headed out to calm him and saw that his back legs were not working.  I scooped him up and carried him in, while trying to remember when the vet opened.  Thank goodness they had already been open 30 minutes, so I placed Tooga in the back of the car and off we went.  They would do x-rays and call me later in the morning.  But on the way home, I entertained all the possible outcomes, with the worst being both rear legs paralyzed.  If that were the case, I would feel the need to put him down.  The vet called later and was talking possible pinched nerve, slipped disc, or who knows what.  I asked him if movement didn’t come back to his hindquarters, would putting Tooga down be an over reaction?  He distracted me back to “lets see what happens first.”  I’ll go in tomorrow at 9 to see how Tooga did over night and what if anything has improved.  Being around those that have had pinched nerves, has not bode well for them lately.

Bad hair, bad ride, bad disc?  If the last 6 months has taught me anything, its patience.  My hair will grow back…most of it!  I kept the rubber side down on my motorcycle.  Anything other than that on a motorcycle other than the opposite is doable.  But Tooga?

My Zen from Home:  Two weeks and counting.  After this posting, I won’t be that guy that brings attention to and wallows in the days, weeks, or other periods of time since the biggest event in his life transpired.  Oh I’ll wallow in it and I’ll count whatever I want to since Miki passed, but it will be private, personal, and as often as needed.  And when I stop doing that, I anticipate whatever happens after this life, will include us both again.  I can dream, can’t I?