It’s been a long rough week. Things just haven’t gone the way I would like them to. I suppose they never really do. I mean, if life went the way we all wanted them to, I’m not sure anyone would end up happy. However, this week, for me has been especially troublesome.

As I made mention, Melissa returned from Europe on Sunday eve. She seemed to really enjoy the time and the culture. She’s really having a tough time adjusting to the time difference though, or so I’ve noticed. Upon her arrival back stateside, we discovered she can’t walk on water, as she slipped on some water in our kitchen floor and tore several ligiments in her left knee. The doctor informed her to stay off of it for several days, and he’d re-evaluate her then to see if there will be a need for operation. God willing there won’t.

It was also on Monday that I discovered my school once again dropped the ball in changing my major, thus resulting in some serious paperwork backlogging, that included my financial aid paperwork. No financial aid means no school for me this quarter. I guess that’s okay though. It really lets me enjoy the crisp autumn eves that we’ve began to experience here in Central Ohio.

Men, there is nothing more chilling than to walk into your home, especially after getting the news about school, and hear your wife crying in agony from the kitchen. There is nothing quite like walking into the room, and seeing her lying there begging for healing to make you completely forget anything else. The only thing you possibly want to do is help her up off of the ground and rush her to the hospital. It doesn’t matter any longer that your bank account is in flux, that your education is in flux, that your cats are hissing and the dog is growling, all that matters is that beautiful woman that God created lying there. Lying there, needing you.

For those brothers of mine who have not quite experienced something like this, i pray you never do. However, I pray that you do realize the love that comes rushing out during that moment.

It’s starting to get crisp in Columbus. We’ve officially shut down the air conditioner for the open windows and ceiling fans for a while. As I write this, I can gaze out my window and see the dew on the freshly trimmed grass, hear the crickets singing their tunes and that beautiful orange glowing harvest moon shining down.  It’s something I haven’t experienced much since living in the city.  It reminds me, for the first time in a long time really, of being home.

I can recall many a nights sitting on the back porch of my parents home with friends and family, just enjoying company – and experiencing the cool mountain air, the croaking frogs and my mothers laughter.  Those are memories I can only look back upon, I can never quite get back. Maybe if I did go back they would all be slightly different. Maybe. Maybe they’re just perfect the way they are, in my mind.

I can recall nights at my grandparents farm, watching fireflies dance in the night sky. I can remember seeing my grandfather smile. Oh how I miss him. I can see my brother and my cousin, we were all so young. We were all so careless. Not a worry in the world, except who would win at R.B.I. Baseball.

Then there is those nights I would much rather care to forget, than to remember.  Like the night I never should have went out. The night when I was 16 years old and we had received several inches of snow. My dad told me I needed to stay at home, that the roads were getting slick. Instead my friend Justin and I drove to Pancake House and then to Wal-Mart, and then into the rear end of 1984 Ford Mustang. I will never forget the look on my dads face whenever he showed up.

I want to forget the night my aunt died. I wish I could. I can’t. I had just graduated high school and had gone and opened my first checking account. My mom tried to call my aunt, but she didn’t answer. Several minutes later my uncle called and told mom that “Julie’s gone”. As I drove home from mom’s office, I felt the shiver down my spine as my mom called and said “Julie… Julie’s gone. It’s over.” She then went on to tell me how they found my aunt in her car in a park outside Raleigh, NC, where she had died of a self-inflicted gun shot. That night I stayed home by myself.  Mom and dad had gone to my grandmother’s to tell her the news. I just wept. I wept uncontrolably. I was angry.  I was confused.

The night represents so much. So much life, so much death, so much heartache. It also represents that special moment that my wife and I get to share together. When the phones aren’t ringing. When the cats aren’t hissing and the dog isn’t howling. When the moon isn’t shining down on the dew soaked grass, and the crickets and fireflies have all been closed out. When it’s just me. and her. When we can let our guard down and laugh. When we can cry together. When the noise and stuff of earth can’t get in.  Those are those new memories that I will look back on some day – or maybe I should say, some night.