New Day L; Shot 3: Casper Come Home
When I just came out of college, I managed a few Bob Evans Restaurants. I had majored in Business Mgt and Communications at U of Dayton. My goal was to learn the business from one of the great success stories, and then open O’B’s Music Pub, with fantastic music and food, spiced by the art of conversation.
Earlier this week, a friend from those early days saw my blog and followed it to my website, saw the pics of me there to confirm it was moi, and emailed me. It was fantastic to catch up with her, and laugh at the memories and perceptions we each had. She was mighty mouse, though I called her Casper. She had verve and constant laughter, kindled by kindness. Sounds like she still does.
As we are chatting, we laugh about the journey from our humble young beginnings new to the work world and dreams completely different now. We both grew to find ourselves, and what we want to be; we have each chosen roads most likely to have a positive impact on those around us. The value ingrained in us to make our worlds better by our actions, to help others, has branched from our early roots and struggles.
She called me Superman. I may have a lot on my resume, but amidst the memories, I am retrospective, as most every writer breathes. I am then forced to wonder, what could I have done, if I wasn’t so immersed in this 30-year war? Energy, time, talent, endless waiting in waiting rooms, Dr offices, tests far too numerous to revisit or count, and the drugs … the myriad of drugs, the drugs to counter the side effects of the drugs. All the pain abandoned events, fun and impact opportunities, all that energy to fight each day … What would I have paid forward to the world if I had that at my disposal, rather than in the trash?
Or would I not have the foundation forged by that journey to be successful in career, to help others? I will never know all I could be; I’ll never know. And really, it doesn’t matter. It’s a futile exercise after the motivation type triggers autopsy is completed. Would the 1985 Bears defense beat Joe Montana and Jerry Rice? Hypothetical and fantasy leagues are more trend and trash; I am a realist that still dreams.
I shifted a while back, change what I can, accept what I cannot, and pray for the wisdom to know the difference, as they say. I learned to structure my day to leave no regrets going forward, mapquest, but leave the road traveled to the beautiful, grace filled hands of God.
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