Holiday Highlights

The holidays are officially over.  As always, too soon.

I'm sitting in Honest Coffee Roasters, have a cup of coffee, about to head over the office to start pushing the boulder up the mountain yet again.

It was a different holiday season, for sure, for reasons I've mentioned in earlier posts.  My first Christmas and New Year's without my mom was different, difficult, and maybe even a little depressing.  Next year will be better and easier, or so I tell myself.

Still, there were memorable moments the holiday season.

• J.P. and Joe, my muses and my inspirations.  It's hard not to love the holidays when they're so excited to be out of school, for Christmas, to watch football games on television, to go to Belmont games, to play on their iPads in the morning, etc.  They make me laugh and smile.
• Glow Nashville.  I was skeptical, at first, when Jude suggested we check it out at the Sounds' stadium downtown.  Turns out it was pretty cool.  We went just after it opened, well before Christmas, on a beautiful night without much of a crowd.  The boys ice skated while we watched.  They rode inter tubes down a hills of fake snow.  Not for me but they loved it.  Lots ob beautiful lights.  And, they saw Santa Claus.

• Christmas tree hide and seek at Santa's Trees.  Always a highlight, for me, of the holiday season.  We bought our Christmas tree the Saturday after Thanksgiving, then spent at 45 minutes taking turns hiding from each other amongst the trees.  I also ran into Miranda Pontes and reminded her of the Easter Sunday a decade ago when she served Jude and me day old pastries even thought Frothy Monkey was closed, as we sat on the front porch with our infant (J.P.) in the City Elite stroller.  That story made her happy and, somehow, I think she needed that day, she needed that.  I miss seeing Miranda around and I haven't seen her on Instagram as much, so I was happy to visit with her for a moment or two.
• Bardstown bourbon at the office with Lee, Chas, and Deb R.  I've never paid $129 for a bottle of bourbon and I probably never will again, but damn it's good stuff.  One night after work, Lee, Chas and I sat up front in our office, looking out at the Christmas lights on Fourth Ave. and on our office Christmas tree, while we sampled Bardstown bourbon.  I saw Deb leaving the courthouse late, waved her down, and she joined us.  Good conversation, good people, and good bourbon.
• Jude's brother and sister-in-law, Megan, and their young kids, Caroline and James, stayed with us over Christmas.  It was so much fun to have little ones in the house again at Christmas time. It also reminded us of how much work it takes to care for kids that young.  Full time, on call, 24-7, for sure.  James and Megan are great parents and their kids are treasures.  J.P. and Joe love Caroline and James and play so well with them.  I think Joe enjoys not being the youngest kid around for a change.  A developing tradition when we get together is the "cousin sandwich," pictured below.

• Christmas morning with Jude's parents, James and Megan, Jude and all of the kids.  Controlled chaos but filled with happiness and Christmas cheer.  
• Running a lot and running well and in good health.  For me, that's a small thing but it's everything.
• A few hours a my sister, Tracy's, house on December 26, with Gary, Tracy, Kaitlyn, Alice, Jerry, Will, Stacy, Hope, and Will.  It was different without my mom and without my mom's presence, but we got through it together.
• Church at St. Patrick on the afternoon of Christmas Eve.  Always special and more special with Joe carrying baby Jesus down the aisle to be placed in the manger, accompanied by J.P. and Caroline.  

I'm not really sure where we are with J.P. and Santa Claus.  At 11, almost 12, I'm fairly certain he has doubts.  Maybe he doesn't believe anymore but doesn't want to spoil it for Joe (or us).  My best guess is this was the last year of Santa Claus for him.  Joe, somehow, appears to still be all on Santa Claus.  He's determined that there's no Tooth Fairy - courtesy of a friend at school who apparently found a couple of his teeth in a drawer in his dad's bedside table - but he hadn't made any connection between the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.  Go figure.  

Somehow, Joe's a little more worldly than J.P., so I suspect he will figure things out as it relates to Santa Claus at an earlier age than J.P.  

In the end, a different kind of holiday season for me.  More subdued, more contemplative and, frankly, a little sad.  I think (and hope) next year will be different and more . . . normal, for me.

Remember the Titans

Derrick Henry and the Titans have been on a historic run the last few weeks, particularly in the first two rounds of the playoffs.  Henry has been unstoppable in the Titans' upset wins over the Patriots and, last weekend, the Ravens.

Derrick Henry is the only player with two playoff games with over 175 yards rushing in the same season.  He's the only player with three consecutive games of over 180 yards rushing.  He's the only player over an eight game stretch in NFL history to have at least 1,250 yards rushing and 10 touchdowns.

And now, the Titans are in the AFC Championship game this weekend against a heavily favored Kansas City Chiefs' team.  The city of Nashville and, really, the entire state of Tennessee, are buzzing with excitement over this run by the Titans.  It reminds me of 1999, when the Titans played the Rams in their lone Super Bowl appearance, in the sense that everyone is talking about them.

I must say, thought, that it's been bittersweet for me not to be able to share the Titans' unexpected success this season with my mom.  She absolutely loved the Titans.  She watched every game, then listened to Mark Howard and crew on the postgame show.  During the week, she listened to George Plaster and Willie Daunic on Plaster's radio show.  All Titans' talk during the fall and early winter and she loved every minute of it.

After every Titans' game, especially the last few years before her memory failed her, I called her.  We had a routine that made us both laugh.

If the Titans won, when she answered my call, I'd say "how 'bout my Titans?!?"

If the Titans lost, I'd say "how 'bout your Titans?!?"

In recent years, there were more Titans' losses than wins, or so it seemed.  After losses, my mom would laugh that infectious laugh of her and ask "how come they're your Titans when they win and my Titans when they lose."  We would laugh together, then break down he game, big play by big play.

As a gift to my mom, I framed the front pages of the Tennessean after the "Music City Miracle" win over the Buffalo Bills and the AFC Championship win over the Jacksonville Jaguars during the 1999 season, which she hung on the wall in the playroom of her house.  She also hung on the wall an autographed painting of Eddie George and replicas of the Titans' logo and football helmet.  She even had a ticket - still in a lanyard - from a Titans' game I took her to long, long ago.  All of those hung on her walls in the playroom for more than 20 years, happy memories from days gone by for a Titans' fan like her.

Last Sunday, J.P. and I removed all of my mom's Titans' paraphernalia from the playroom wall (along with other sports memorabilia), in preparation for the upcoming estate sale at her house.  It was cruel irony, I guess, to be taking down and sorting through those things in the midst of the Titans' unexpected run of success in the 2020 NFL playoffs.  I was more than a little sad because I knew how much fun she would have had the past two weekends.

The word that comes to mind that best describes how I feel about the Titans' success is bittersweet.

It's been great to watch the games - and talk about the games and the team - with J.P. and Joe.  Part of growing up as a sports' fan is watching your team, on pins and needles, living and dying with every play.  In their lifetimes, they've never seen a Titans' team that went on a run like this, so it's been fun to share it with them.

However, with each win, I can't help but think about how my mom would've enjoyed this Titans' season.  I feel cheated, in a way, that I didn't get to share it with her.

One last time.

How 'bout your Titans, mom!?!

Joe Ovechkin

Early last week, Joe was eating breakfast before school.  Suddenly, he yelped and said, "Daddy, I lost my tooth!"

"Where is it?" I replied.

"In my eggs!"  he said.

Yep, there it was in his eggs - the first front tooth he's lost.

As you can see, Joe was very proud.  He looks like a hockey player.

The Birthday That Wasn't

Today was my mom's birthday.

For once, I had a bit of a lull at work, so I took the day off.  After Jude left with the boys to drop them off at school, I had a cup of coffee at Portland Brew in my neighborhood then drove an hour to Dickson Union Cemetery in Dickson, Tennessee.  There, my mom is buried in her family's plot, beside her two sisters, Sue and Ann, and just below her parents, Robert and Mary Alice Ussery.

At heart and in many ways, my mom was a small town girl.  It's appropriate, I guess, that she's buried in a cemetery in a small town.

Near the beginning of our week long vigil at St. Thomas Hospital last January - waiting for my mom's inevitable death after she suffered a stroke and brain bleed - I realized I had no idea where she was going to be buried.  It was the one thing that had never crossed my mind and something that Tracy and I had never discussed.  As I sat in the waiting room, my head spinning, I was lost until I ran into one of my mom's old friend's from Dickson.  It was nothing more than serendipity.

Dan told me to call Tommy Marvin at Taylor Funeral Home in Dickson, Tennessee.  "Tommy's a friend of the family," Dan said.  "He'll know what to do."  So, I called Tommy Marvin and true to form, he knew exactly what to do.

Tommy knew my mom and had handled the arrangements for my grandmother, Mary Alice Ussery, and later, for my grandmother's sister, Sara Dickson, when they died.  I had met him a time or two, although I didn't remember him.  I quickly realized he was a man my mom had talked about and liked, and had stayed in touch with after my grandmother died.  I think she and my Aunt Sara took him to lunch a time or two.  The point being, of course, is that he knew my family and, more importantly, my mom.

Tommy told me that he thought we had a family plot, or two, at Dickson Union Cemetery.  He looked into it and, as it turned out, there was one spot left next to my mom's sisters in the Ussery family plot.  I felt such sense of relief to know that my mom would be buried next to her sisters, whom she loved so much, and with her parents, too.

It's been a mild winter but it was a little cold and windy when I got out of my truck this morning began walking through the cemetery, looking for my mom's headstone.  It was hard, at first, to get my bearings, and I zipped up my vest against the wind and continued walking.  I was an odd sensation, walking alone through the cemetery, reading dates of death and birth on so many headstones in so many family plots.  I thought about the fact that each one of the people buried there had been a cherished and loved family member - a mom, dad, grandmother, grandfather, brother, sister, son, daughter.  So many lives lived.

Slowly, I got my bearings, and within 10 minutes or so, I saw the large, gray "Ussery" marker.  I walked up and there I was, staring down at my mom's headstone.  I sat down for a few minutes, lost in thought and alone with my memories.

As I sat there in the wind, I told my mom that the boys were doing fine and that Joe had been so very excited when he lost his first front tooth earlier this week.  I told her the boys had fun playing basketball this fall.  I told her I missed her.  I told her I loved her.  Then, I said a prayer.

I stood up and took one last, long look at my mom's headstone.  Then, I walked back to my truck.

Happy Birthday, Meemaw.  I miss you and the boys miss you.

Photographs and Memories

With an estate sale at my mom's house approaching, Tracy, Alice, and I have been doing our best to sift through 50 + years of photographs, mementos, papers, and keepsakes.  It's an arduous, painstaking, and, for me, emotional task.

It's sad when you really think about it.  Someone spends a lifetime accumulating, well, stuff.  Sure, some of it is utilitarian but the majority of it is useful or has value only to the owner.  Furniture my mom sat on every day and photographs of us, as children, she walked by and maybe looked at every day - if we don't take those items, they will inevitably end up in a landfill.  That's hard to take, especially for someone as nostalgic as I am.

Do I save old family photographs lying loose in a shoebox?  My report cards from elementary school at David Lipscomb?  Notes and cards I wrote to my mom as a teenager?  Christmas cards my mom's best friends sent to her 25 years ago that she saved?  Lists and notes in my mom's handwriting that literally have no use to me now other than to possess something she touched and wrote?  Old stuffed animals that belonged to one of us that she kept for reasons known only to her?

What about all of my dad's stuff that my mom saved?  His flight manual? (he was an avid pilot) His undergraduate and medical school degrees?  Photographs of him, alone, and him with us?  Plaques given to him?  

If I keep some of this stuff, what will I do with it?  Maybe, and I mean maybe, I'll open a box sometime in the next decade, look at an old photograph or read an old note, then close the box and put it away.  After the sudden, visceral feeling of, what . . . nostalgia, sadness, longing . . . I'll return to the reality.  Boys to raise, bills to pay, and a life to live.  Is it worth it to keep those things?

Am I just leaving a mess for my boys to clean up, someday, when I die?  A ton of stuff to go through, like we're doing now and like my mom did when my grandmother died years ago.

In the past couple of weeks, I've found things I had no idea my mom had kept or I had completely forgotten about.  Some were mine or about me (report cards, playbills, scrapbooks) and some were not (cards and notes from her friends).  It's like an archeological dig through my family's history.  I could spend hours - days, really - at my mom's house just sifting through, I guess, her life.  

Not that I ever doubted it, but when I see all that my mom saved, I'm reminded - more than ever - of how much she loved  us.  And, also, of how important her family and friends were to her.  Family and friends were the most important things in her life.

Her birthday is next week, January 9.  She would have been 80.