Final Gravity

This morning if I could flip a switch and go back to a little over a year ago, I would go without hesitation. When I arrived I would be typing an email to a very nice lady at the Tulsa World. This time instead of turning down a very nice job offer from the very nice lady, I would be accepting it.

I can remember that decision as being a very tough one. On one side, I had a solid job offer with a reputable company, the Tulsa World. The pay was more than what I was getting in my previous job and the people seemed very nice. The downside to this decision was the feeling of stagnation that I had been living with in Tulsa for the previous year or so. I felt like I needed a change… a big change. That was the main part of the motivation to accept a job offering in Dallas instead. The money was much more in Dallas, and there was something very exciting about going to work in a Dallas advertising agency. It was the promise of adventure that guided my decision. Knowing what I know now, I wish that I could have a “do-over.”

Here I am a year later and the exciting job in Dallas, 1.) wasn’t that exciting to begin with, and 2.) basically disappeared after 6 months. I didn’t know this when I was brought on board, but they hadn’t sold but one web site when they brought me on. It turned out that they didn’t sell anymore after that, at least until very recently.

Now the situation I find myself in is less than appealing. We live in a house that is twice as expensive as the one we left, and I do not have a stable source of income to support this new expense. Also, we cannot seem to find a community where we really fit in. We’ve been to three different churches over the last year, and none of them have been a match. It’s just been very rough, and this is not what I expected.

I suppose this is the allure of the adventure. There is risk involved. That’s the Siren’s Song. That is the thing that will cause a person like me to be drawn out of a place of comfort into a tempest that seems to have no end.

Since there is no “do-over” button, what can be found here? I cannot just go back to Tulsa. We are planted firmly enough as to take that option off of the table for awhile, even though we still own our old house in Tulsa. At the end of the day I need to find some upside in this situation. I think there is some to be found.

OK… upside… even though this a rough period, I do feel invigorated by the challenge. The stagnation that I was battling in Tulsa is definitely gone. It has been replaced by a storm that requires my full attention. Even when I am weary I still feel that challenge urging me forth. These times of challenge are the times when we grow. I hope that I am growing though this experience. I hope that this experience is raising my game to the next level.

Upside two… I do like the house and the neighborhood where we now live. Andy, Grace and Jonah can play outside without us worrying about a car doing 50 will speed through and kill everyone. The cul-de-sac is quiet and it seems like a great place for us. The house is cozy, and I have a fireplace. These are good things… although, sometime I wish that this house was in Tulsa.

Upside three… professionally I am gaining valuable experience. This past month I’ve been working with Frito-Lay on programming their corporate blog. This is a pretty big client, and I think that this experience will lead to good places, especially when we find ourselves heading back to Tulsa eventually.

That’s probably the silver lining on this situation. I have adopted the attitude that I am away at school. It may take a few years, but I feel confident that we’ll end up back in Tulsa one day, and this time here in DFW will prove to have been indispensable. This time here has already led me to appreciate the tiny life that we had in Tulsa. The fact that everything was small in Tulsa once bugged me, but now I see the beauty of a simple life there. Not much going on, but that’s alright.

The bottom line is that I need to learn what I need to learn while I’m here, and not waste this opportunity. If I keep this attitude then I think I’ll be alright.

So, having said all of this, would I still flip the swtich? Yes, I think that I would. Then I’d be back to feeling restless again, and I’d probably make another decision to “shake things up.” I would not have learned a thing. I guess we’re all fortunate that we can’t have a “do-over” that easily, or we’d never really learn anything.

Today I wandered around Wal-Mart for way too long. I needed to get a tire patched on our car, and my wife needed to get some things for the kids to make Christmas decorations. We could get everything taken care of at the same time at Wal-Mart, so we stopped in. The line was a little longer than we anticipated for the tire repair, but we decided to go for it anyway. This left us walking around the store with our two youngest kids for a much longer time than we wanted to.

On our final lap around the store I noticed an older lady slowing her cart down and looking at me. At first I thought she was going to ask for directions, but then I noticed something familiar in her face. As I walked toward her she smiled and said, “You’re one of the kid’s, aren’t you?” I knew instantly what she was talking about. Her name was Pat Taylor. She and my mother were good friends when I was a little boy. My parents made regular trips to the Taylor’s house to play board games when I was about six or seven years old. Those trips were always so much fun.

Seeing Mrs. Taylor around Christmas was especially poignant because of my mother’s love for the holidays. She loved Christmas, and each year she made the entire season special. Along with writing and directing the annual Christmas play at our small rural church, one thing that my mother made a Christmas tradition was the baking of pumpkin bread. Each year at Christmastime she would load me, my brother and my sister into the car along with a dozen loaves of pumpkin bread that she baked in saved up coffee cans. She would deliver a loaf of pumpkin bread wrapped in red and green ribbons and tin foil to all of our close family friends. The Taylor’s were on that list for years.

Today when I saw Mrs. Taylor I introduced my wife and my two little ones. She placed her hand on my hand and choked back tears as she said, “I always think about your family at Christmas.” Out of respect, she didn’t immediately mention my mother by name, but I knew what she was talking about. Since my mother passed away almost seven years ago she has left a huge hole in many families around North Texas. Much more than her annual Christmas gift, my mother brought to many people her enthusiasm for life and her cheerful disposition. When I was growing up I would watch people light up when she entered a room. There was a feeling of excitement when she was around. Quite simply, people loved my mother and people miss my mother.

I guess I write all of this to say that I love my mother and I miss my mother. Merry Christmas, Mom.