This morning, I read an early movie review that needed to establish when it was written, because the review was on an unfinished rough cut of the final film. The author chose to establish his time frame in a somewhat novel fashion by using a “where were you when you heard about” time reference. In this case, the occasion was Michael Jackson’s death on June 25, 2009. That got me thinking about last summer and just where I was and what I was doing at that time, because I remember it being somewhat of a blur. I do remember I learned of MJ’s death on twitter first (thanks, iPhone!), then listened to the car radio on the way home from work that afternoon. Then, I remembered some other things, and I had to look back at my calendar to figure it all out.
Wow. Simply put: June 2009 was a crazy month. No wonder I remember it as nothing but a blur.
My relationship with the cute hockey fan girl was just a month old, and we had gone from zero to serious in no time flat. I was spending a lot of time in Nashville already, and for the most part was loving every bit of it—even if I was still a little conflicted about being away from the farm so much right as the chore season started ramping up.
Early in the month, I flew to Houston for my brothers “graduation” from his fellowship. I ended up driving one of his cars back home for him, the next day, which was a LONG day trip to make in the Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi sun. I remember hitting Birmingham and feeling drowsy around 11pm, so some caffeine was in order. When I got to Nashville, I stopped for the night—and then couldn’t sleep until after 2am. Thanks, caffeine.
I think I did father’s day with Dad at the lake. I know I skipped ARRL Field Day Weekend in favor of hanging in Nashville with the girl. In fact, I figured out I skipped a lot of things last year, which I kind of regret now. That’s not a dig at our relationship. It’s a dig at myself for sacrificing things when I really didn’t need to. I understand why I did: New girl, honeymoon phase…totally understandable, but my advice to self for next time is: Enjoy the things you love, especially those things that only happen once a year. Know the difference between compromise and sacrifice. One is good, the other not so much, if done to excess.
Ok, sorry. I know this rehashing the past makes for boring blog reading—and frankly, it makes for boring blog writing, too. I guess the whole point of this post was to describe how my thought process went from “Where was I when MJ died?” to a little life lesson and reminder that it’s good to love, but not OK to lose yourself in the process.