“Is it too late for me?” – Matt Monica

Is it Too Late for me?

He walked into the luncheon long after it had begun.  His walk was slow and labored, almost tortured.  He was a long time coming to sit at a table already filled with others.

“Has he had a stroke?”  Ronnie Green asked, as he observed Matt coming directly toward him.

Moments after Ronnie’s comment, Matt arrived.  That’s when others at the table happily shifted their chairs so they could create room for the latecomer to sit on the chair that seemed to almost magically appear, as Matt bent to sit down, as he talked with Ronnie.

“Is . . . it . . . too . . . late . . . for . . . me?” Matt Monica asked immediately after accepting the offer to sit in the chair.  “I . . . haven’t . . . been . . . out . . . to . . . attend . . . anything . . . for . . . the . . . past . . . two . . . years; after . . . my . . . wife . . . passed . . . on.”

He spoke slowly; haltingly, his words coming out as if sprinkled over soil hoping for more.  Yet, his sincerity acted to quench all thirst, as tears streamed from his eyes.  He yearned for companionship.  That was clear.  So, I sat with him as the room cleared.

When everyone else had left the room, we still sat.  He ate until the food on his plate was gone.

“Is it too late for me?”  Matt asked again.

“No!”  I replied.  “It will never be too late for you.”

I could see why he asked the question again.  Workers had come into the room to clean and clear it.  They politely worked around us, without saying a word.  Finally, the room was cleared all around, so Matt and I got up and began to walk toward the exit.

“Do you need a ride home?”  I asked.

“No.  I . . . drove . . . my . . . car.”  Matt responded.

We emerged from the building and stared into the west parking lot. He looked around as if confused.

“What color is your car?”  I queried.

“Green.”  Matt said.

There was no green car in sight, so I asked him to wait a moment while I walked to the other side of the building to check an adjacent parking lot.  His car was there.  So, I returned to Matt.

He put his hand on my shoulder, to steady himself, as we walked around the corner of the large building toward his car.

“I’ll . . . be . . . your . . . friend . . . forever!” Matt promised, as he slowly put his key into this car door lock.  He stooped.  He sat.  He smiled, “I’ll . . . call. . .  you!” He started his car. 

I watched as he drove away. I remembered and pondered, as he navigated, toward his home.

Matt had walked into our “celebration of life luncheon” long after it had begun.  His walk was slow and labored, almost tortured.  He was a long time coming to sit at our table, a table already filled with others and we all made room for him to sit with us.

He spoke slowly.  Haltingly, his words coming out as if sprinkled over soil hoping for more.  Yet, his sincerity acted to quench all thirst as tears streamed from his eyes.  He was yearning for companionship.  That was clear.  So, I sat with him until long after the room was cleared by the staff.

“Is . . .it . . . too . . . late . . . for . . . me?” Matt Monica asked immediately after accepting an offer to sit in a just offered chair.  “I . . . haven’t . . . been . . . out . . . to . . . attend . . .  anything . . . for . . . the . . . past . . . two . . . years; after . . . my . . . wife . . . passed . . . on.”

“No Matt, it isn’t too late for you!” I said to the blue sky above us, as I watched his old, well-worn, green car drive slowly to the east; hoping he would, indeed call me.

It isn’t too late for anyone, as long as there is just one of us willing to simply be there to offer simple, amiable, companionship.

Open-Door Policy

I looked down at my torso wondering if there was blood showing.  I couldn’t see any.  That caused me to be even more confused than I already was.  There was nothing visibly wrong with me.  But, somehow, this man, Ron Green could see the wounds that were not seeable by others.

At the time I met him, his ability to see me, the real me, was inexplicable.  Today, forty-four years later it is still something of a personal mystery.  But I have come to be at peace with it, because of his seemingly divine dimension of great wisdom, loving kindness and appreciation for all creation. He taught me, and all those he came into contact with, to fish, to be “fishers of people.” This created a legacy that will remain in my heart, as well as in the hearts of all those he coached throughout his life.

And, coach he did.  His first coaching job was at Twin Pines Rehabilitation School for Boys in Idyllwild, CA. He head-coached all sports, taught 5 math, geometry, and science classes, and was director of counseling. His inaugural coaching year was the first time Twin Pines had ever won its football league and entered the CIF finals. The football team played the entire season without being scored on.  Later, he embarked on his own business venture, “Success Motivation Institute,” and signed on with College of the Desert where he was the first director of counseling and golf coach.  That’s where I met him.

I say met him, but I really met his whole family.  We spent a lot of time together from the moment we met.  They all intrigued me!  I didn’t know there were such people on the planet.  They were happy, giving, accepting and healing.  They made me want to become like them.  They made me want to be a part of them.  And, to my delight they invited and welcomed me into their family.

Since that time, we’ve rejoiced together and we’ve also cried together when the occasion called for it.  And is one of those times, as beloved husband, father, grandfather, great grandfather, teacher, counselor, coach and friend, Charles Ronald Green, Sr., transitioned from our lives. As was his way, he passed away while visiting family.  It was his last way of coaching us.  His door was open right up to his last moments of life.

His real talent was his ability to open a door into the hearts of others.  That’s what he did for me.  He opened the door into my heart, saw the wounds there and immediately set about to help heal them.

When I first met him, I looked down at my torso wondering if there was blood showing.  I couldn’t see any.  That caused me to be even more confused than I already was.  There was nothing visibly wrong with me.  But, somehow, this man, Ron Green could see the wounds that were not seeable by others.

At the time I met him, his ability to see me, the real me, was inexplicable.  Today, forty-four years later it is still something of a personal mystery.  But I have come to be at peace with it, because of his seemingly divine dimension of great wisdom, loving kindness and open-door policy.

A policy that opened the door into to his life as well as the door into the lives of those he came into contact with.

“Serving people in a food pantry is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had.” – Barry Smith

Filling and Fulfilling

“I donate my time every Tuesday at a local food pantry.”  Barry Smith said.  “Serving people in a food pantry is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever hand.”

Then he went on to explain.

“I didn’t even know that there were such profoundly poor people in our community.”  He continued.  “But I’ve learned a couple of things by working there.  Things that I never would have expected!”

The first thing he talked about was types of distance.  He lives in a different town, from where the pantry is, and while it’s really just a short drive for him to get there, about twenty minutes,  his own heart was much farther from the people he serves more than he imagined.

“I found that distance doesn’t matter.  The people I attend to there are just like me in most ways.  Being there with them and getting to know them has closed a gap in my understanding.  It has also closed a gap in my heart!”  He clarified.

There are different aspects to distance.  Sometimes we remain focused on a concept of separation and time exclusively.  But, Barry believes that a larger concern is a common trait that seems to be shared by almost all people.  That characteristic is one of exclusion.

“For some reason, people decide that there is an imaginary line that exists between us!  I’ve found that this line is arbitrary and something of mental fabrication.  It’s a story we tell ourselves!”  Barry said, with a warmth in his eyes.

Another kind of story people tell themselves is that everyone will be happy if they would simply be like they, themselves, are.  That hasn’t been Barry’s experience at all.

“Some of the poorest people I meet at the pantry are also the happiest people I’ve ever met.  And, they don’t want to change their economic position in any way.  They’re just happy!  They’re grateful!  They have a feeling that what they have is enough.  Maybe their stomachs are growling a little, but their demeanor is not!  Have you ever met someone who has whatever they want, that money can buy, yet they’re unhappy?

Now, don’t get me wrong.  They are millions of people who are financially healthy and happy at the same time.  And, there are millions of people who are who are financially unhealthy and unhappy as well.  Financial status isn’t the message of Barry’s story.

“I donate my time every Tuesday at a local food pantry.”  Barry Smith said.  “Serving people in a food pantry is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever hand.”

Then he went on to explain.

“I didn’t even know that there were such profoundly poor people in our community.”  He continued.  “But I’ve learned a couple of things by working there.  Things that I never would have expected!”

The look on Barry’s face told the unspoken part of his tale.  His eyes were bright as he was relating his account during lunch.  His stomach was filled.  But it is the relationships he’s developed with the people he serves, as well as the people he serves with, that have given him the too rare gift of being filled and fulfilled.

“Everyone on our team brought an important piece to complete the puzzle!” -  Matt Donaldson

Puzzled

“It has been a long three years!”  Matt said.

Matt and his partners were teetering on the edge of their years-long-work imploding.  That’s the point where he called his closest friends and asked them for help.  They responded. 

“There isn’t anything in this for me.”  One friend said, before continuing, “I’m in!”

There were six such friends who stepped in to offer their expertise and work to do everything they could to create something past just success.  Most importantly, they cemented their friendship as well.

“Everyone brought something special.  They all added their unique piece to fill in the seemingly lost pieces to the puzzle.  We could not have found success without everyone!

Matt went on to list the seven steps he’s been able to identify to help us solve our puzzle of building and maintaining friendships.

First, show yourself as friendly. Matt is convinced that it takes energy and effort on our part. He’s found that few want to take the first step and reach out first. So, if you want friends, make the first move! Reach out and introduce yourself first.

Call an old acquaintance first and ask if they’d be up for meeting at the local restaurant for breakfast. The point here is to be the first one to make the move. Not all will respond, but if you keep trying, someone will take you up on your offer and that’s when you’ll find a possibility for deeper connection.

Second, learn to find common ground. Recognize that there will be differences between two people in any relationship.  Expect this! People are designed uniquely as a result of their life experiences. Don’t emphasize your differences; rather look for similarities.

Are there things you can talk about that both of you are passionate about? Are there hobbies you both enjoy? Are there similarities in family structures? Do you share any history together? Use these similarities as a springboard for conversations that will lead to meaningful relationship.

Third, learn to be authentic. As you navigate the waters of friendship, make sure you’re keeping it real. Tell the truth about yourself and your struggles.  Listen carefully to others as they do the same. Truthfully, we all have areas of our lives in which we are stuck. It might be our marriage, parenting dilemmas, or other failures. Life presents enough room for all of us to make errors of judgment and lapses of character. Hiding and friendship are not compatible bedfellows.

Let’s be clear here. Don't hang all your dirty laundry out in one afternoon, but instead look for opportunities to reveal the truth about who you are and who you’ve become, and even who you desire to be.  This will allow authentic friendship to thrive!

Fourth, choose to be transparent and vulnerable. No one wants to develop relationships in which there is an absence of honesty. Choose to not hide. Frankly, although it might appear that we have it all together in all the complicated areas of our lives, we don't if we’re honest.

Fifth. Make friends without an agenda. I know in some form or fashion, we are all engaged in sales. We sell our products and services to family and our friends. But, when we’re looking for meaning that comes from friendships, we must be willing to look for deep connection without an agenda. If we do choose to lay aside our desire for financial gain in our meetings, it will come with the rewards of genuine authenticity.  Our agenda should be genuine concern for the other.

Sixth.  Keep confidences. If we choose to reveal a secret to someone outside the circle of friendship without permission, and our friend hears about that breach, we lose trust. When trust is lost, the possibility of a close authentic relationship is not possible. When we hear a confidence, we must hold it close to our hearts and value the trust that was given to us. Guard that information as a sacred trust.

Seventh. Place yourself in the right position for facilitating friendships. Staying home and eating potato chips on the sofa while binge watching Netflix will not get the job done.  Actively look for situations that foster the kind of friendships you’re seeking; to become the kind of person that will make change in our world.

Everyone has something special to bring.  Everyone can add their unique piece to fill in the lost pieces necessary to solve the fluid puzzles presented by our chaotic world.  We can never have the greatest success possible without everyone.

Are you willing to add your piece to the puzzle?

“He wasn’t a good father, but she’s working to build a relationship with him.” – Ed Roberts

Over Head

The first time I noticed Ed was when I was attempting to stuff my suit case in the overhead storage compartment above my seat.  He was snickering as he watched me try to fit a fifty-pound case in a spot made to fit twenty-five-pound bags.  His eyes were sparkling with glee.  I didn’t blame him!

I’ve had the same thoughts many times as I’ve watched others attempting to complete the same impossible task on an aircraft.  Yet, this time it wasn’t impossible.  I got it in there!

“We’ll see if I can get it out of there!”  I said to myself as I took my seat on the flight to Tulsa.

Of course, Ed was on the same flight.  And, he was also on the same row.  He sat next to me in the window seat.  It was that little, laughing-eye-connection a few moments earlier that had broken a common, usual barrier between strangers on an airplane.  We began to talk before the door was shut and the plane was pushed from the gate.

“Are you headed home?”  I inquired.

“No.”  He said.  “My father-in-law lives outside of Tulsa in a remote area.  He recently had a stroke and can’t take care of himself anymore so I’m on my way to begin to help him pack for his move to an assisted care facility in Salt Lake City.”

He went on to explain that this move was difficult as his father-in-law lived in a remote area, because he didn’t like people.  And, he had never been a good father to his wife.

“He wasn’t a good father, but she’s working to build a relationship with him.” He explained.

He continued his story by saying, that there was a lot of tension in the relationship between his wife and her father.  Yet, she and Ed were doing the hard thing.  The thing that was fulfilling his wife’s heart-felt desire to establish and maintain a loving relationship with her father.  Ed went on to say that his wife had learned how to have bad familial relationships from her father and that had allowed her to first, develop a strong desire to build a happy, loving family.  Second, she was determined to use this experience-based-knowledge and desire to offer pure daughterly-love to her father throughout his remaining days.

“It is a case of heart over head.”  Ed said to me with a twinkle in his eye as he lifted his gaze to the overhead compartment above us to make sure I understood his dual meaning.

The first time I noticed Ed was when I was attempting to stuff my suit case in the overhead storage compartment above my seat.  He was snickering as he watched me try to fit a fifty-pound case in a spot made to fit twenty-five-pound bags.  His eyes were sparkling with glee.  I didn’t blame him!

I’ve had the same thoughts many times as I’ve watched others attempting to complete the same, silly, impossible task.  Yet, this time it wasn’t impossible.  I got it in there.  Now the plane had landed and I got up with trepidation.

“Good luck getting that out of there!”  Ed laughed.

“Thanks!”  I responded as I wrestled my bag out of the compartment.

I got it free, after an intense battle, and began to wheel it down the aisle, feeling good that I had accomplished the impossible, and knowing that Ed and his wife would also be successful in accomplishing their seemingly impossible mission.  

Because, they had allowed their hearts to reign supreme, ignoring conventional reasoning; living heart-over-head, they too would overcome the impossible.