Decorative, not Empty

        I was gifted with a beautiful frame last year.  Gorgeous!  I knew right away that I wanted to put it in my home office for inspiration.  (Never mind that my home office is cluttered with things that need to find a home so that I can work in my home office and benefit from said inspiration.  Moving on!)

        What would I put in the frame?  Many applicants came to mind.

        Perhaps a photo from the zoo many years ago?  Our friends' children changed from these little boys who crawled everywhere to stumbling about dressed like mini men.  The two boys with crooked smiles posed next to a gorilla statue- stuck between baby and boyhood, a beautiful reminder of our growing circle of friends.  

        Or, maybe, since I planned to do "my writing" in the office, something related to the craft should be in the frame.  I already had my favorite quote from a journal cover on display.  My favorite children's book is on the desk.  (Pollyanna is in my bedroom- a great attitude reminder for each morning.)  My desk is surrounded by floor to ceiling bookshelves containing some of my favorite friends, memories, and dreams.  I considered an autographed and zombified trading card of one of my favorite authors but then worried that seeing his rotting face everyday would be too much pressure.

        I poured through photos, narrowed them down to a few, and set the frame aside for a few days.  A few days turned into seven months.  There it sat.  Decorative but empty.  I woke up in the middle of the night and just knew The One!  I raced downstairs, leapt over cats, and pulled out the photo box.

        Once upon a time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was in college.  One weekend, a group of us from the dorm went to a quarry.  People were repelling from cliff to basin and others were jumping in.  So many great pictures that day!  The six of us posing in bathing suits and flannels; a friend conducting a symphony of ducks; my cast-wearing buddy swimming with me in the quarry after our long trek around to the "wimpy side" where we could safely slide in and worry about climbing out later; a fantastic shot taken by yours truly from the wimpy side of the most daring group member jumping some 40-ish feet into the quarry.  Great photos, great memories, but not the finalist.

        Wandering around a nearby park later that day, I took random photos WITH a camera (not a phone) WITHOUT a display screen (Forrest Gump should have said, "Life's like a non-display screen camera, you never know what you're gonna get.").  I stumbled upon an elderly couple on a bench.  I could only see them from behind.  I wondered about them.  Who were they?  Were they happy?  Were they in love?  What's their secret?  Something about them silently gazing at the canal called to me, so...I snapped a photo and ran.

        Looking at the photograph all those years ago for the first time, I knew I was looking at my future.  Even then, I could have given you a list of material things I wanted but I knew what I wanted most of all- someone to sit on a bench with when I was older.  Looking at the photograph again as it sits in the frame in my office, I'm reminded that it is more important to have a life filled with love and friendship than a life that is decorative and empty.

        Maybe I'll go back to that park near a canal by a quarry one day and sit on that same bench.  I won't be wearing a bathing suit with a flannel and my bench mate won't be jumping 40-ish feet into the quarry this time if he knows what's good for him.  Maybe, just maybe, someone will snap our picture from behind and wonder.  If asked, I would tell them the secret.

        It's simply this...

"Bend in the Road"

Huge disclaimer- huge.  I no longer sing.  Haven't since high school.  Out of tune birthday songs drive me batty.  Rocking out in the car when I'm alone and misquoting lyrics is my thing.

I was in district chorus in elementary school.  Chorus was on my schedule every year thereafter.  I was in: chorus, select vocal ensemble in junior high (not sure how that happened), women's ensemble ("I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair!"), and Chorale in high school.

Under the direction of Pius Kaltreider, the Chorale sang Broadway, Jazz, Christmas Carols and more (I remember a number in Latin...).  Acapella songs were awesome!  Never had a solo, never wanted a solo, or tried out for one.  I was petrified just running my scales in front of others.  I could not read music and never picked it up.  After hearing a tune once, I could figure it out.  I did not have the vibrato quality to my voice (used to annoy me) and I would tear up every time we sang the National Anthem.

Mr. Kaltreider had us sing at nursing homes, not to get in extra practice but because it was the right thing.  He organized road trips for us and instilled responsibility to the group.  When my grades were slipping, well- I don't remember what he said.  But, I knew he was on my team.

He wrote a song called "Bend in the Road."  We sang it in concerts and on tour.  When he retired, we flash mobbed him at his church and sang his song to him.

"When we feel we have nothing left to give, and are sure that shadows will fall, it is just a pause in our life, my friend, just like a bend in the road."

I've carried these lyrics with me in my heart all these years.  I subconsciously hum them during challenging times.  I was at a crossroads early on in my high school career and it was my involvement in the music program that helped me stay the course and make it around the bend.  That opportunity would have never been there for me without Mr. Kaltreider.  I don't know what he saw in me to allow me into the program but I will always be grateful.  The music program saved my life.

During his last year, Mr. Kaltreider prepared a tape (yes, a tape!) of our greatest hits.  At the end, he added his own little ditty and sang, "God loves you and so do I.  Gotcha!"

Yes, he did.

(N.Finn)