RIP - Aretha Franklin 03/25/1942 - 08/16/2018

My story about Aretha Franklin. In 1996 I had moved to San Diego and I was feeling lost. I had just picked up my roots, my family's roots, and left in a move that physically took place within one day of planning. Shortly after arriving I started writing. I had no computer at that time so I would write in journals all night while listening to music. I was addicted to the peacefulness of knowing my family was sleeping safe, I was rebuilding a new life for me and them, and I wasn't running around the streets like a mad man as I was in Kansas City.

One night I was listening to my music and Aretha Franklin's song, "You Make Me Feel" came on. A song I had hear 100 or 1000 times before. But for some reason these lyrics below hit me hard that night. They were the most beautiful set of words that I had ever heard grouped together. I started crying. I hadn't cried a tear in years because I had become hard and immune to my emotions because of the life I lived for so many years. Mean, ugly, and with complete disregard for anyone if they weren't what I considered "mine".

"When my soul was in the lost and found
You came along to claim it
I didn't just know what was wrong with me
Till your kiss helped me name it
Now I'm no longer doubtful, of what I'm living for
And if I make you happy, I don't need to do more"

I always wondered what triggered that break down. I went over that night, those words, my relationships, my marriage but the words weren't relating to anything I could think of. They were spiritual in meaning to me. Growing up in Catholic school for the majority of my younger years I was taught and believe that God loves me and all of us. I often say, "God loves me and he's so good to me," a statement that I've had to question more than a few times, but it's a true statement. I feel uncomfortable talking about religion but I believe in God, everything is at his will, and he is so good to us if you have your eyes, mind, and heart open you too will see.

I've had horrible heartbreak and loss beyond measure but I'm a strong person, emotionally and physically. This is because God has packed me with the power of strength. He allows me to stick up for myself with great effectiveness and for others who can't. He also loaned me a sweet heart that is filled with compassion, forgiveness, and deep love.

Aretha Franklin's words that night were words to a song that related to my relationship with God. No matter how many times I've lost my way, my emotions, or my soul he never lets it stray away. God always comes along and claims it, his child. Because no matter what I do, good or bad, his love is great and constant. It's the one thing I know, if I ever should find myself alone in a dark place or space, that I'm never alone, because he's always right next to me, giving me, the strength to face it.
Ms. Franklin, your words, your voice were a blessing to me, through them both, God spoke to me...
RIP 03/25/1942 - 08/16/2018
https://youtu.be/dEWuAcMWDLY 
         

My Favorite Couple...Us!

WORD!

I started going to church a couple of months ago. I grew up Catholic and was nervous to try anything else. I have been so use to saying "I'm Catholic" since I was a child and well into my adult life. If anyone ever invited me to try their church I never took their offer in fear that they might talk in tongues or do a guitar solo while preaching the word and staring me in the eye. I was convinced I would break out into laughter or be so embarrassed that I'd have to excuse myself. But with all that said you would never find me inside a Catholic Church on Sunday because I was just too busy or nursing a hangover. But regardless of the excuse, I was content on going with my story - "I'm Catholic".

About three months ago I met a lady and we exchanged stories. She had just left hospice saying her final goodbyes to a friend who was on her last hours of life. I could tell she was upset and I offered her a few words of something. I say something because I wasn't sure what it was I was saying or trying to offer. This woman, who is at least twenty years or so older than me, needed an ear and I was there. I felt it was only polite that I extend a few words of something to make her feel better. The only thing I could muster up was my similar story of saying goodbye to a loved one. She returned the favor by extending her ear.

After all was said and done she said, "do you mind if I have a man call you?" I was confused but then she continued by explaining that there was a program at her church. "Oh no" I thought, here comes the religious rub. But it never went there, but out of common courtesy and since we had a moment of sorts, I gave her my telephone number. Hoping that the call wouldn't come!

Two days later the call came. It was from a man who asked if I'd like to meet for coffee. Before the call came I had time to think about my encounter with this woman and several others - all centered around faith, belief, and God. It occurred to me that something or someone was trying get my attention or get me help. So I agreed to the cup of coffee.

When you lose someone in your life you find yourself looking for signs. You find yourself asking for the signs when you're alone. A flickering light, a sudden sound, or anything to give you validation that your love one is nearby. My signs usually come through music. My son will throw a song my way occasionally. It might just be the local DJ, but I always give the credit to Landen. The Cure, The Counting Crows, The Smith's - Landen. This call that came from the man - Landen. He wanted something for me, something to ease the pain - music only goes so far. 

A good cup of coffee and the company of a stranger might do me good I thought. Plus, if someone was willing to take an hour out of their schedule then who was I to pass up the offer. So we scheduled our meeting. I was worried that it was going to be all about religion but I came to the conclusion that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

The man who called that day was Jim. We met as scheduled and he said he was there because he had heard I had went through a tough patch and if I wanted to talk he was a good listener. I took him up on the offer and spilled my guts. At some point I asked about the church. He told me he was part of a program that helps individuals in the community who might need an outlet to discuss things or just a person talk to. He never once went into religion. He did at one point tell me that he wasn't sure about anything, including God, but he was sure that his beliefs work for him and his life.

I must admit that I was impressed with this man. He's a successful business man who fit me into his busy schedule. Most impressive to me was that he fit me in during the work week. It was as if his program at church was just as important as his company. I was a meeting, a part of the program, that was comparible to his next big contract. He had a job to do for the church and he was going to do it regardless of the time or day.

I was happy I went to the meeting. I made a friend and I felt like I had someone on my side. It was just a talk but it made me curious about the church. I thought this place, this church, might be for me if everyone else was like Jim. It was less than a week before the lady I had the original talk with called and invited me to that weekend's church service with her and her husband. I accepted the offer. It all came together.

The day after my brother-in-law passed away I had a place to go and pray. I had a place. The church is amazing and everyone I have met through the church is wonderful. I get so much out of it considering I only spend an hour out of my week there on Sunday. I feel stupid that I didn't attend sooner. I guess it's sort of like a gas station. You fill-up and you can go a greater distance. To date I have not heard anyone speak in tongue nor has there been a strumming guitar player making eye contact with me. I feel better having a place to call my own. WORD!

Why am I here?

What is my purpose here? A question I assume a lot of us have asked at one time or another. Some might ponder this question more than others. I know I do. I believe I am here for something more than what I am doing.

I think it's a question asked more often as you grow older. I feel I could be doing more than I am. I always thought life would be more comfortable at this period in my life. I would have never imagined that my family and I would be struggling as we are. I recognize that we have had many setbacks the past few years but that excuse only soothes the soul for a second.

I have always had a way of helping people in the past. Connections, encouragement, or cash. Today I can't seem to help myself. I have so many dreams and things I want to do but can't find that deep down surge to make them happen. In the past I always had others willing to join me in making changes but today I am alone. I take it that people have lost faith in me. The faith has faded. 

I have faith in me and maybe that's all I need. I will be back on top someday. I also believe that this stripping of me, the breaking down, is part of a bigger picture and necessary for me to grow. I see it all, but it is so damn hard to deal with when you feel you're losing your dignity, pride, and identity. Surrendering all you have and all you know is a painful thing.

Have faith in yourself, be your biggest fan, and if you find yourself being broken down and stripped of all that you know or have, just remember that the end result may expose what your true purpose is and what your calling might be. Have faith.

Colds, carrots, and Orajel

In life, nothing ever goes as planned. Sometimes we have to make adjustments to our plan to deal with matters that come up unexpectedly. There is no hidden meaning in that, it's a fact. Certain events or scenerios call for you to take certain actions.

An unexpected cold or cough, you make a trip to the doctor. For a sore tooth, a quick stop for some Orajel or an appointment to the dreaded dentist. Or it may be a simple stop at the grocery store for a bag of carrots to go with that slowly cooking pot roast. These events, although minor, put us on a detour from our regular course.

Unfortunately, today we have obligations to be at a funeral home so we can lay to rest a family member. There's a time we have to be there, last minute details to go over, and a schedule to follow. A place we have to be. Unexpectedly.

I say "family member" but that title doesn't cut it. He was a son, a brother, a husband - a father. He was my brother-in-law Steve Kreighbaum. Titles that are so important to us, the people he left behind.

I have had my fair share of loss this year. Eleven months ago my son, Landen, was taken away from us in a hit and run accident. I have had time to think about it hourly for those eleven months. 7,964 hours of thinking to be exact.

What I have come up with is that we all play a part in so many lives. Our family's, our friend's, our co-worker's, our neighbor's, our pet's, down to the guy selling you coffee every morning. So many connections on a daily basis.

It breaks my heart when I think how, sometimes, we can easily forget how important we are. Each one of us plays a part in this life. We have people who love us, who would fist fight for us, who would actually die for us if needed and we don't always see it. We are the spoke in so many lives.

I can't ease the pain of my loved ones at this moment. It's an unexpected detour that we have to take right now and it is what is. But I want everyone to know that sometimes we get stuck in a fog and we can't always see things in front of us. If that fog should creep up on you, I want you to remember that you're not alone. Nothing goes as planned for any of us. For some of us, we count hours and painfully take another breathe, struggling to find good in what we've been dealt. But at the end of the day take stock of your life, count your blessings and always remember that the fog will always lift. But most importantly, recognize and understand that a  wheel can't roll if it doesn't have a spoke!

Steven Dale Kreighbaum Jr.

My brother-in-law, Steve, passed away this morning at the age of 45. He was a father, husband, son, brother, and friend. We had grown up together since I was 15 yrs. old. and we've been in the same family for over 23 years.

I was alerted to the devasting news, while I was getting ready for work, through the painful screams coming from his sister, my wife, Tammie. I instantly knew that something tragic had happened because of that scream. A scream you never forget.

Steve had been battling depression for some time. He had different health ailments and the fight took its toll. He gave up. In the wake of his departure we are left asking questions and wondering what we could have done differently.

I must admit that the thought of leaving this place has crossed my mind. The dark days I've had to deal with and the setbacks after setbacks have warped my thinking once or twice. But today I see what hurt and devastation does to loved ones when you're suddenly gone.

I ask everyone to get help if you feel sick. Talk to someone if you find yourself in a hole and can't get out. The swallon eyes and broken hearts I see today is such a sad sight. Put your pride away and put the ones who love you first. This sad day will pass and people will move on. But make sure that you move with them and don't make a permenant solution to a temporary problem.
- Your bro-in-law and your friend