The Letters

September 8, 2024

Dear Ron,



On August 28, 2024, you turned 52 years old. Happy birthday!


To most people, 52 isn’t an important number, nor does it signify any particular rite of passage. But, for you, 52 is quite significant. At that age, and from that vantage point, you can look back and recall the path your life has taken complete with its twists and turns, ups and downs, and even a few direct and easy jaunts thrown in here and there. It hasn’t been the typical trek one might imagine a little boy from Newport, TN would take, but it’s yours. And you are making the best of it, and you are doing the best you can with the cards that you’ve been dealt. After all, isn’t that what everyone is trying to do?


So, old man, how would you like to tackle this one? And no, you are not old; it just sounds old. LOL


Anyway, shall we start from the beginning and wind our way through this life of Lessons chronologically? OH, wait, that is good! No, not the chronological part; the LOL part. Instead of Laugh out Loud, which is a bunch of bunk-no one ever laughs out loud as they respond to a text that is supposed to be funny, it should be Life of Lessons. That makes so much more sense. And if you get tired of it and need to change it up, then spin it around to make it Lessons of Life! With that, instead of a worn out, overused acronym falsely representing what none of us are doing at that point in time, you have a fresh perspective on a well-established colloquial icon that, even when feeling palindrom-atic, still holds to be true. L O L ...literally... I will give you a minute.


Good! I am glad we have that established. Now, where were we? Oh, yes, shall we chip away at this LOL “total recall” chronologically as though we were in a comfy chair, with a big bag of overly buttered popcorn heading, most assuredly and quickly, to a deep snooze? OR shall we take the Lens Approach, focusing on the LOL highlights, supported by brief, zoomed-in glimpses of the past that led to those highlights? As you contemplate this decision, I must remind you that you were never very good at learning things chronologically.


You were a good student. Hold on. Hear me out on this. You loved going to school. And you couldn’t wait to find out who your new teachers and classmates would be. And maybe, just maybe, with this new year filled with new subjects, new teachers, and new classmates, this would be the year you would finally feel part of the group, like you were keeping up with your classmates. Typically, at this time of year you had just celebrated your birthday, and you were bursting with all the excitement and energy-filled anticipation that led to the beginning of a new school year. And you couldn’t wait to show off all the new school clothes you got for your birthday.


All the other students, whether they showed it or not, were also excited as they familiarized themselves with their new home room desk and the new location of their desk in the room. This was always very important. Unless you were one of the fortunate ones who got an end-of-row desk, your new desk would have four desks surrounding it. Best-case scenario, these desks could be filled by friends from the previous year -- if you were lucky. Or they could be filled by complete strangers, or classmates from previous years that you hadn’t met yet. Not so bad because at least there was potential to make new friends. But the worst-case scenario would be that they were all filled with those classmates from previous years that you didn’t get along with. In that case, you were doomed to face this den of lions daily for the rest of the year. However, if by some miracle, an unforeseen shift in seating occurred and you were the lucky winner of an “end-of-row" seat! “Come ON DOWN!” would plays in your head as you make your way (inwardly gleefully, outwardly expressionlessly) to your new seat. At least with this new seat, even if all the other positions were filled with enemies, you’d have one safe direction to turn your head and find some peace in tough times and nap times. One could only hope.


Other than that, you were a ball of excitement for the new start!


And each beginning of the new year or new semester, the excitement was the same. And, invariably, that excitement remained, until the teacher would say, “OK, let’s open our books to chapter 1.” Suddenly, everything changed. All that excitement and all that energy was quickly melting and draining right out onto the floor under you. I know you remember. This reaction was so visceral when you were younger, a few times when this happened, you’d panic and quickly glance around to make sure no one noticed you checking yourself to see if you had peed in your pants. To your relief, you were good. But by the time you realized that nothing was wet on, around, nor under you, you were already pages behind everyone else.


Don’t worry, Ron. It doesn’t stay that way. But I think this is enough for now. We will continue soon. And we will do this at whatever pace you find comfortable.


Sleep well, my friend.


Ron