Loving Deacon - C.E. Lemieux Jr

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

Time Is A Commodity

2012

I’ve had this thought on my mind for a while now. Recent events have tweaked and twisted it, but still it remains. Time is a commodity. It is something of value. It is something with which we barter. It is something we trade, sell, or donate. In looking back at my first blog of the year, I find this is a bit of a continuation of that theme.

You know, all books and all authors have some theme or meaning lying underneath the surface of the words. Themes can deal with nearly anything – internal conflicts, external conflicts, personal value, search for happiness/contentment, etc. You follow me on this I’m sure. In my book, Loving Deacon, the theme focuses on personal value. Deacon has found happiness in his wife and his family, but what he is missing is his personal satisfaction with who he is and the purpose his life has served. In Whispers in the Wind, Abby thinks she has found happiness by following her dreams, only to find true happiness somewhere else. The Ladder Climber is yet to be published, but its theme deals with finding the right balance to life and work. The Blemished Rose, which also has not yet been published, deals with misplaced guilt.

One underlying theme in each of these novels is time. In every instance, time plays a major role because life is much about time and how we use it. Time is a commodity. We trade time to our employer for pay. We put in a certain amount of time on the job and they give us a certain amount of money for that time. Of course, when it comes to how much money we are able to get for that time other factors come into play, such as technical skills, experience, and the difficulty of the task. This particular blog article isn’t about discussing the fairness of the trade, a discussion which could go on and on, but rather the fact that time is something which is limited and valuable.

Although much of our time is necessarily devoted to work or earning a living, we chose how we use our time. We try to portion our time so we can keep at least some of it for ourselves and our families. Some people save enough time to golf, fish, read, watch movies, or whatever makes them happy. Parents save time to go watch their kids play sports or attend a Christmas concert. Families look forward to taking time for vacations. People donate time to charities.

Perhaps if we knew just how much time we had, we would prioritize it better, but the truth is we don’t. When we are young life seems almost endless and we find ourselves believing we have plenty of time. We take more risks, we live carefree, and time appears to be on our side. And yet, plenty of young people never see their eighteenth birthday; they just didn’t have much time. As we grow older and people pass from among us, the limits of our time start to become more real.

Based upon my core beliefs, I believe there is a purpose to the amount of time we are given; a purpose for life and a certain amount of time in which to accomplish it. Deacon says we are like dominoes and each of us impacts the other. Therefore, my purpose could lead you to your purpose or vice versa. The ripples of your life may flow into mine. Even a life which seems cut short may have been just long enough to help shape another life or provide the catalyst necessary for another to find their purpose. These are my thoughts and you’re welcome to your own, of course.

I must admit, much of mine is wasted on things with little importance. So much time is spent worrying about things which really don’t matter in the grand scheme of life. These things become a distraction, sucking away time which could be better served if focused upon things of value. Such squandering of time is much akin to the accumulation of things; things which will waste and wither away; things which simply aren’t needed in order to live happy and comfortably.

What about you? What’s your purpose? Are you to do something which catches worldwide attention changing the course of history? Maybe you’re doing something just as important by changing someone else’s history; nurturing children who will shape the world in which they live. Perhaps your life was meant to rub up against someone else who has a completely different purpose. Will you look back on your time and find it was used wisely or squandered on a pot full of irrelevance? We probably all have things in our lives which are well worth the time as well as things which aren’t worth a minute and though I don’t think it is healthy to question ourselves on every second of our time, I do think it is healthy to realize that life is largely about how we spend our time.

Make the most of it my friends. Hug those grand-kids. Kiss your own kids. Stop and smell the roses. Take the time to offer roses. Write a book. Read a book. Plant a tree. Give some blood. Visit with someone. Spend some time alone. Just use it for what is important to you and to those you care about.

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

More Than A Memory

2012

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us,”— Oscar Wilde

I took this quote from John Lavan. John is a poet and his work can be found at http://poemsfromreality.blogspot.com/

At the time I read John’s Tweet, I was searching for a topic for the blog. Much as Karen’s comment seemed to inspire my thoughts in the last blog, John’s quote came along at just the right moment. Memory is an amazing thing and for those who face circumstances which rob them of their memories, it must be a fearsome thing to lose.

I have a friend with whom I often sit around talking about the old times. Wes and I have been friends for over thirty years. We’ve created a lot of memories together. Sometimes he triggers my mind to remember things I have forgotten and sometimes I do the same for him. Invariably we wander down trails and remember both good times and bad. From high school parties to camping at the edge of a clear mountain lake, the images return. The smell of bacon frying mingles with the scent of pines freshly dripping from a morning rain and I can once again feel the chill in the air of that mountain morning.

When I attend a high school football game the crisp fall air takes me back to my youth and what it felt like to strap on those pads. I can hear the snap of the chinstrap and the slap of shoulder pads as we were warming up. The smell of the fresh cut grass; the scent of the leather ball; and the aroma of fresh popcorn drifting from the concession stand window all return to me through the glorious experience of memory. I spent most of my seasons standing along the sidelines, but I can still feel the excitement as the seconds tick toward opening kickoff and I remember the shrill sound of the ref’s whistle.

Memory is much easier to access than piles of pictures and stacks of photo albums. Those photos are just a sliver of time, but they can help restart the recording within my mind. There is a picture on my desk with two little boys dressed in hiking gear. They’ve got their hand-carved hiking sticks, laced boots, and broad smiles. They stand upon a rise they traversed and the pines fill in the background. Today they are grown, each with school, jobs, and girls on their minds, but when I look at the photograph they are little once again, and it never fails to bring a smile to my face as I recall those warm memories. Sometimes it causes me to wonder if I shared enough time with them; it makes me wish I could go back and do it again just to be sure. It makes me think about all the obstacles in life they will face and if they know how simple that time in their lives will seem to them one day. Sometimes I wonder if they ever look at that picture and feel the same way.

On a wall in another room there is a large photograph of a young man in a white tux. He still has hair. Beside him is a beautiful girl in a white gown. Again, memory allows me to go back in time and revisit the day that portrait was taken and the first steps we were taking into our future together. After twenty-four years we’ve both changed in ways we probably wouldn’t have imagined on that day. In other ways we haven’t changed. I still enjoy holding her hand and sleep most comfortably when she is beside me.

Memory truly does serve as a diary we can take with us wherever we go. It sometimes holds so many riches we may even find a time when we fear losing them just as easily as those photographs would be lost to a fire, flood, or other natural disaster. In my novel, Loving Deacon, Andrew Jordan (Deacon) voices thoughts which echo that sentiment.

“Seventy years. Where have they all gone? To what place does time go when it has passed from our view? Where are all of those wonderful memories stored when we are no longer around to be the vessel which holds on to them?”

Deacon finds comfort in his memories. They allow him to return to times past and they eventually lead him to a discovery which has eluded him all of his life. He is fortunate in that way, but some people aren’t so fortunate. There are those among us who are robbed of their memories. They suffer a cruel death, often living as much as forty percent of the time they are plagued with their disease in the most severe stage. There are 5.4 million Americans living with Alzheimer’s disease. While deaths from other diseases has decreased, deaths from Alzheimer’s disease increased by sixty-six percent between 2000-2008. Two-thirds of those with the disease (3.4 million) are women. Another American develops Alzheimer’s every 69 seconds. Alzheimer’s isn’t just a memory losing disease, it is debilitating and ravaging. The disease doesn’t only affect those who are diagnosed with it; their caregivers and family members are impacted as well. These facts are readily available from the Alzheimer’s Association website http://alz.org/index.asp

September is World Alzheimer’s Month and September 21st is Alzheimer’s Action Day. For the month of September I’ve made a commitment to donate all royalties from the sales of the Loving Deacon paperback purchased on Amazon to the Alzheimer’s Association. This is just one small way in which I can help. If you were considering a purchase of Loving Deacon, I urge you to do so this month from Amazon. Here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/Loving-Deacon-1-Lemieux-Jr/dp/1453609318/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1315068352&sr=8-4

So think about it, where would you be without those memories you cherish so much? How often do those memories bring you comfort in times of turmoil? Of course we are always making memories. Each second, each hour, and each day brings with it the possibility of new memories to add to our collection. Let’s not miss a second that could help others hold on to those memories. Let’s not miss a second that could allow you to hold on to your memories. You don’t have to buy the book to help. You can visit the Alzheimer’s Association Website http://alz.org/index.asp and make a donation, but if you were going to purchase the book, do so in September on the Amazon site. Either way, you’ll be making a memory worth hanging on to –the day you helped bring an end to this horrible disease.

–Thank you to Cynthia Strohschein, Director, Strategic Communications of the Alzheimer’s Association and to the Alzheimer’s Association for allowing the use of their information and links for this article.–

March 2, 2019March 2, 2019

Times Are Hard

2012

Times are hard. Folks are looking for jobs. Homes are being foreclosed upon. Prices are going up. Wild fires are roaring across the grasslands. Drought is drying and cracking the earth in parts of the country while flooding has ravaged other areas of the nation. Times are hard.

A couple of weeks ago I helped a friend of mine take a large number of his cattle to market. It was a tough decision for his family. They’d worked hard at growing their herd. Each year they moved out the older cows and were working toward improvement. But the reality is that there has been little rain across our area; grass is scarce; the price of hay is high. They can only afford to feed a certain amount of cattle.

To make matters worse, farmers in the area are finding it hard to plant winter wheat. In a normal year they’d be able to allow the cattle to graze on the young wheat. With no rain, there is no planting. Some folks are dusting their wheat into the ground with the hope that rain will come and offer moisture to the seeds after they buried beneath the surface of the soil. It’s a big risk. Seeds and fuel cost money.

We sorted the cows and calves, keeping the cows he thought he could afford to feed. We loaded as many as the trailers would hold and had to make several trips. He knew he was taking a loss to sell them early. At the sale barn, we waited in line. There were others who faced the same decisions. Horse trailers and cattle trucks lined up to alleviate the burden on heavily grazed pastures. It’s a buyer’s market. In a few months, there will be fewer cattle to take to market, and beef prices are likely to go up. That will affect the rest of us.

Times are hard, but they aren’t as hard as they’ve ever been. Our grandparents and great grandparents had it harder. They endured the crash of the market, the great depression, two world wars, and the dust bowl. They made it through. In fact, my friend’s family was one of the few who persevered, held on, and made a life in this rugged country. So many were forced to pack up and move away. Many found life in the cities almost as difficult.

How did they make it? What lessons can we learn from them?

They made it by reaching deep inside, finding discipline and determination where it hides inside. They pinched pennies. They made things last. They held tight to what matters; family, friends, neighbors. They stuck together. They helped each other out. They did what they had to do. Times were hard.

When times are hard, we have to look for what’s important. We have to make the tough decisions. We have to hold on to what matters most and make the most of what we have. Commitment, dedication, determination, self-sacrifice – those words hold more meaning when times are hard.

My wife recently had surgery four and a half hours away from home. My mom stayed with the kids. My wife is doing well, still sore, but getting around. Times are hard, but folks showed up at our house with meals every day. They stuck with us, showed us kindness, took the time to think of others even though things might not be going well for them right now.

There’s another word which has more meaning when times are hard; that word is hope. We hope for the rains which will eventually come. We hope for an improvement in the economy; for jobs to become available; for prices to stabilize. However, hope isn’t an empty pail waiting to be filled. Hope is the heart at work. It is that determination our ancestors tapped into; it is staying prepared to leap when the time is right. Hope is keeping our eyes open; our ears alert; and our souls on fire for the day which promises to bring those improvements we so desire.

The encouragement, support, and kindness of others can help fuel our hope. We can help build the hope of others by offering them our support as well, but real hope comes from inside; it comes from the determination that we are strong enough to face what comes against us. Hope comes from knowing the sun will shine through the clouds again someday and we will be ready for that day. In my book Loving Deacon, Emily and Deacon are among those who endure. They hold on to each other. They treasure what matters most. Their love and determination see them through. They are the kind of folks who add to the hope of others even when they may be struggling as well. Their spirits are carved from the stone which serves as the foundation of American values and traditions. They hold onto their hope when times are hard.