But, I’m not sad either.

Even with that Charlie Brown quote in the headline to emphasize my thoughts on the impending Christmas, I still find myself somewhere in the neutral zone. Sure, I’m a positive thinking and focus-driven person, but why-oh-why do I find myself more of a loner when the inclusiveness of the holiday season taps my shoulder? 

“I’m glad you’re here right now.”

Standing in line at the Old Europe coffee shop in downtown Asheville, I said that to my old friend, Jerica. It was a rainy Sunday evening and we’d just gotten out of a documentary screening (about Tim Leary and Ram Dass) at the Grail Moviehouse. While I was mulling over the cosmic nature and theme of the film and what our place is in the universe (as per usual), I looked over at Jerica and smiled.

Why don’t you go get your crazy pills?

I remember that being said to me by other students when I was in elementary and middle school. They were referring to the Ritalin that I was prescribed to take, and were directing that sentiment towards me when I acted perhaps a little too hyper or antsy in the classroom.

Why do you write?

I write because I was told at a very young age, at some point in elementary school, that “there was something wrong” with me, and that I lacked the skills to not only concentrate but also contribute to society.

I awoke with a bit of a chill in the air.

There are only a handful of life experiences that result in a definitive before and after. I now know that losing a parent is one of those. 

My mom passed away on Sunday, Aug. 14, after a three-year battle with cancer. While she had been sick a long time, her death was unexpected and sudden. The week before she passed, she took my two little boys to the North Carolina Zoo. We knew she was getting worse, but she was fighting and still responding to some of her treatments. We thought she had much more time left in her. 

The instant the guitar chords echoed from the Mexican restaurant speakers, a slight grin emerged on my face. Immediately, the Asheville traffic disappeared from my urban patio view, where all I could see was that old farm town — far away physically, but oh so close emotionally.

It took me a couple seconds to realize where I was.

What are you afraid of?

I could see it in their faces.

It was something I felt before, and also had seen in pictures taken long ago of myself. It was that feeling of a sincere and honest connection to another human being, where you find yourself standing at the exact spot of your euphoric destiny, hand-in-hand with your significant other — it was (and is) love.