When all hell breaks loose, like a crazy school cafeteria with no one in control (before the one teacher who instills fear arrives), or a hallway of writhing, wiggling, whacking, sweaty and jostling adolescent torrent of terror after recess, or when water is flowing freely through your kitchen light fixtures because someone decided to use 24lbs of toilet paper for a tiny turd that refused to go easily down the toilet and it overflowed for 2 hours because no one thought anything was wrong, it is always helpful to have a strong shoulder to lean on.  Or a plunger.  Or both.  But when things are at peak chaos, and you are desperately clinging to the frozen railing on the slippery stairways of life, it is imperative to have someone behind you.

Sometimes when you are in the darkest days of trudging through the frightening forest of life, you need that guiding hand behind you to either push you forward or gently nudge you to change direction because the path you are on may lead to greater dangers.  Or worse.  Like stepping on those concealed land mines of dog doo under leaves.  I mean walking Wally after dark in autumn is probably as dangerous as a chasing a ball into traffic, or balancing your full cup of coffee weaving through a crowded (Pre-Covid) high school hallway teeming with teens.  But either way- you get the point.  And reason #346 that I am filled with gratitude is that I have had a guiding hand.

When the guiding hand has landed on my shoulder over the years I have had different responses.  Sometimes it is overwhelming relief.  Sometimes it is overwhelming fear.  Sometimes it is just reassurance.  But what I realize now is that for me to continue to live the dream, I am thankful that hand has been there.  While it scares me sometimes, and maybe that’s a good thing- I know I should be grateful for that hand.

Ironically, the guiding hand was at one time the last line of defense to my relentless pursuit of his daughter.  I thought I had him eating out of the palm of my hand until I suggested (probably too cockily) that it was going to be a great idea and would he be so honored to grant me the privilege of marrying his daughter …at which point he deadpanned that would require giving him a list of my long-term and short-term goals in writing before he could answer such a question.  What was supposed to be a simple let’s have a beer and ask a question about the weather and maybe future plans had turned into a moment of diarrhea inducing, cotton mouth, dry teeth, cold sweat moment of agony.  And that probably doesn’t really describe the sheer terror of it.

When the grin gradually appears on his face, and the laugh begins- you know you are going to be all right.  You know that despite the fecal matter clinging to your underclothes, and despite the tremor in your hands, that all will be well.    And so it goes for my father in law.  He has a guiding hand that has kept me from falling off the cliffs of life, and a wit to shake my bowels loose if I think he is serious.  And I am pretty lucky to have him around.  So if you see him getting his coffee or playing cards or just relaxing with his grandkids let him know that I am glad that he accepted my long term goals and short term goals (or am I?) and think of the guiding hands that we all have to keep us from falling off the curbs of life.

In short…Thanks, Ed.

Thanks for Coming!