It happens to all of us. The best laid plans have a tendency to cause themselves to fall through. Today, it started to happen, and then it miraculously became a much, much better day.
But let's rewind for a minute. Let me first just apologize that it's taken 454 days to post again. It's one of my goals this year to do at least one a month, and while I failed in January, you're getting a double feature today. I could blame that on a lot of things, like an increasingly heavy work and school load, or my fatal procrastination, or having a son for seven of those months (as of this Sunday), or what have you. What I cannot blame it on is a lack of source material. In addition to the many, many, many, many wonderful friends that I have had for the years before I ever began blogging about them, I have made a bevy of incredible friends this year. Friends that are the kinds of friends that it's hard to imagine life before they were my friends. Maybe we were friends in Heaven before this life, too. Who knows.
That said, let me get to my friend today.
You know how in school or work or church or your yoga class there are a couple of people that you know, and that you've talked to before, but you never really think to call them? I mean, they don't "LIKE" all of your facebook posts, and they may not be following you on Instagram, and they're not one of the three people you call regularly, so you're like, "Oh yeah, so-and-so? Such a nice person. Don't know 'em very well, but totally nice." Then after you see them you move on and think about other things until they're really not present in your mind anymore? Maybe I (and this blog) are that person for you.
That person for me is someone we'll just call Maybe. Maybe was in my Chinese class over the summer. I knew her because in our weekly dialogues we would make up skits about what a heart-breaker Maybe was. It was especially funny because she was in on them, and because she's a nice person and very quiet. Not the kind of person you see breaking hearts every day. Not that she's not a pretty person -- she is. Just that she's the person that, at least for me, I'd pass in the hall and think "What a nice person!" and move on with my day, you know?
Well, back to this morning. I overbooked myself, as sometimes I do, and it's my anniversary, and I have a son who needs watching while my wife's at work and I run to my job that's about half an hour away at a school up the Canyon. I was caught in a pickle. My parents were busy all day. My siblings were in school. I'd just asked my in-laws to watch jack two of the last five days. My usual baby sitter had a study group (another wonderful person you should hear all about.) So I did what any desperate person does.
"Scott Savage updated his status: 'I'm in a bit of a pickle. Could anyone watch Jack today from about 12:30 to 2:30?"
I hop in the shower hoping someone will hear my pleas.
I get out to see a notification on my phone from Maybe. It takes me a minute to process who Maybe is, and she says, "If you still need help, I'd love to watch Jack, here's my number!"
To you parents, if someone posts within 5 minutes of you begging for help over the internet and says, "If you still need help..." how hard are you laughing at the thought that you've suddenly been swamped with irrefutable offers? So I say, "Maybe, you're an all-star. I'd LOVE the help." And we arrange for me to pick her up between my morning job and my afternoon job. Awesome.
So I pick up Maybe at the appointed hour, and she and I begin to catch up a little bit. I learn that Maybe is hoping to travel to China to study more this year because Maybe is conversationally fluent in both Cantonese and Mandarin. Maybe studies linguistcs and her final senior project is to make up a language based on Tolkien. So, she decides to be true to the books, and she's making up the language of the wives of the Ents. Which is among the coolest and semi-geekiest things I've heard in a while. She also is doing research with a professor that she asked me to help with and offered to get me paid for. So, I mean, cool right?
Then I take her and baby Jack and drop them off and race off to my job. I come home to find a happy, smiling baby who has been changed and fed, and Maybe offers to just walk home since my son is content and she lives close. She also informs me that she'd love to be asked if we need help in the future. I appreciated that, but I also appreciated that when I walked into my kitchen for lunch, she'd done my dishes. I mean, really. It was kind of just too much, you know?
Some might read this and go, "What a mysoginist, promoting a woman because she cleans and watches children." On the one hand, that's totally true. On the other hand, I think it's more of a reflection of a truly humble person. A person who is looking to do more than is asked. A person who is genuinely kind and concerned. A person who, in spite of her very obviously pressing duties and responsiblities, which far outweigh cleaning poopy babies and dishes, took the time to do something she offered to do very well.
I've been blessed with many good babysitters for my son. The village that it's taking to raise him is huge. He's been very fortunate to have such a big group of people who love and care for him. This isn't about that though. This is just about someone who sometimes passes you in the hallways with a very genuine smile, and takes two hours out of her life to make yours better.
I mean, who doesn't want that in their lives, you know?
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Tim
This has been a blog post long over due. It's over due because I've only written once since May. It's over due because this is a friend I've been thinking about for a long time. It's overdue, because my hope is that I can share happy reminders of what a good person my friend Tim is with his family. It's also overdue because, in mortality, he won't hear these words.
I'm also using his real name here, because that's just who Tim is. Tim's just a good guy. I only met Tim a few times, but each time we got to talk I learned something a little more about him. Here are five things that I know about Tim. They may be small, but they're what he shared with me.
Tim LOVES trains. As best as I can recollect, Tim has one of the most extensive and complete train sets of anyone I'd ever met. I know he had boxes full of trains and loved to collect them. He talked at length about how he'd collected them from the time he was small and how much his trains meant to him. I think it's really neat to have a hobby and something to collect like that. I think of my own life and I've had a couple of hobbies and collections of small things growing up, but his was truly impressive.
Tim taught me a couple of important things. One of them was really impactful to me in terms of how I respond to what I believe. When I met Tim I was a 19 year old LDS missionary and so most of our conversations centered around all things religious. When talking to us about what we believed about life after death, a subject that he was more interested in than some of the things we talked about, he related a story to myself and my missionary compañero. He told us that every once in a while a set of Jehovah's Witness missionaries would come out to his farm to talk to him. As they told him about what they believed, he pulled out his shotgun, pointed it at them and asked, "Do you fellas believe in Life after death?" He told us that they quickly scampered away. Tim maintained that a person of faith should be willing to die for it. Some people may view him as a little (or a lot) extreme, but that always stuck with me. I don't think Tim would have put them to the test had they stood their ground, but I do think that he held himself to that standard as well.
Tim drove long-haul truck for a long time, and he told us about some of the stories he had from the road. It was him who taught me that semi-trucks will tap their brake lights to other trucks to thank them for letting them pass. The same goes for flashing lights to trucks showing them they have room to pass. Tim also told me that when he would pass those crosses on the sides of highways showing people who had died there, he would offer a prayer for those involved. He would also pray for ambulances, police and firetrucks on their way because they put their lives in danger to help others. Those are things that I've adapted to myself.
Tim offered to make us Squirrel and Dumplings when I lived near them. He said squirrel wasn't in season but he liked it. Tim hunted a lot, but he used all of what he killed and wasn't wasteful. He would probably have been able to make anything be pretty good. Some people are morally opposed to hunting. That's fine. I think that Tim exemplifies what makes hunters good; he has respect for what he killed and he used all of it. Tim wouldn't break the law or abuse his weapons for the thrill of the kill.
Tim was one of those hard core crazy conservatives who was industrious and did things his own way. He probably scared people who didn't share his views, and that's alright with me. He made his own ammo. He owned guns. He was a God fearing man. He raised a good family. It's a family in the ways we all know family to be. Complicated, passionate, but ultimately full of people who can take care of themselves. My mom always told me that her goal in life was for me to turn into a civilized human being. I think Tim and his wonderful wife did a pretty good job of that. He spoke openly about the things he felt, but never felt the need to be needlessly rude. He'd defend what he believed without being vicious. He's the kind of person that I love and who I think makes the world a better place.
I know that compared to others, my feeling here is limited, but I miss Tim. I didn't know him really well. The man lived more than double what I'm at right now, and I only have a couple paragraphs worth of memory about the man, and some of my information may not even be recalled perfectly. I just wanted to take today to remember him. I hope those who remember him every day can take a little comfort in knowing that he impacted others in a great way.
I'm also using his real name here, because that's just who Tim is. Tim's just a good guy. I only met Tim a few times, but each time we got to talk I learned something a little more about him. Here are five things that I know about Tim. They may be small, but they're what he shared with me.
Tim LOVES trains. As best as I can recollect, Tim has one of the most extensive and complete train sets of anyone I'd ever met. I know he had boxes full of trains and loved to collect them. He talked at length about how he'd collected them from the time he was small and how much his trains meant to him. I think it's really neat to have a hobby and something to collect like that. I think of my own life and I've had a couple of hobbies and collections of small things growing up, but his was truly impressive.
Tim taught me a couple of important things. One of them was really impactful to me in terms of how I respond to what I believe. When I met Tim I was a 19 year old LDS missionary and so most of our conversations centered around all things religious. When talking to us about what we believed about life after death, a subject that he was more interested in than some of the things we talked about, he related a story to myself and my missionary compañero. He told us that every once in a while a set of Jehovah's Witness missionaries would come out to his farm to talk to him. As they told him about what they believed, he pulled out his shotgun, pointed it at them and asked, "Do you fellas believe in Life after death?" He told us that they quickly scampered away. Tim maintained that a person of faith should be willing to die for it. Some people may view him as a little (or a lot) extreme, but that always stuck with me. I don't think Tim would have put them to the test had they stood their ground, but I do think that he held himself to that standard as well.
Tim drove long-haul truck for a long time, and he told us about some of the stories he had from the road. It was him who taught me that semi-trucks will tap their brake lights to other trucks to thank them for letting them pass. The same goes for flashing lights to trucks showing them they have room to pass. Tim also told me that when he would pass those crosses on the sides of highways showing people who had died there, he would offer a prayer for those involved. He would also pray for ambulances, police and firetrucks on their way because they put their lives in danger to help others. Those are things that I've adapted to myself.
Tim offered to make us Squirrel and Dumplings when I lived near them. He said squirrel wasn't in season but he liked it. Tim hunted a lot, but he used all of what he killed and wasn't wasteful. He would probably have been able to make anything be pretty good. Some people are morally opposed to hunting. That's fine. I think that Tim exemplifies what makes hunters good; he has respect for what he killed and he used all of it. Tim wouldn't break the law or abuse his weapons for the thrill of the kill.
Tim was one of those hard core crazy conservatives who was industrious and did things his own way. He probably scared people who didn't share his views, and that's alright with me. He made his own ammo. He owned guns. He was a God fearing man. He raised a good family. It's a family in the ways we all know family to be. Complicated, passionate, but ultimately full of people who can take care of themselves. My mom always told me that her goal in life was for me to turn into a civilized human being. I think Tim and his wonderful wife did a pretty good job of that. He spoke openly about the things he felt, but never felt the need to be needlessly rude. He'd defend what he believed without being vicious. He's the kind of person that I love and who I think makes the world a better place.
I know that compared to others, my feeling here is limited, but I miss Tim. I didn't know him really well. The man lived more than double what I'm at right now, and I only have a couple paragraphs worth of memory about the man, and some of my information may not even be recalled perfectly. I just wanted to take today to remember him. I hope those who remember him every day can take a little comfort in knowing that he impacted others in a great way.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
A Gem and a Jewel
A little background about myself sometimes seeps through these posts. In some ways, it's because this is really a journal for me. I love dearly the people I write about, and I don't want to lose them. I also think that, while the mutual respect I have for many of these people lives, it's nice to spend time thinking about certain people and what has made them so great in my life.
Today I had an experience that really compelled me to write about my friend today. But first, a flashback.
When I was in third grade, my parents noticed that I often came home with papers that said, "Scott forgot his homework today!" My parents called me into their room and told me if I could go a week without getting a slip like that, they'd reward me. I didn't last a single day. That was a habit, or a choice in many ways, that never stopped plaguing me. I was one of those weird kids that wasn't dumb, just lazy. I would ace my tests and get C's in my classes because I didn't do the homework. I graduated high school with a 2.9 GPA (Not stellar, especially compared to my friends, family and future wife) but I got a 30 on the ACT that exceeded many of my peers. Even my 2.9 was a gift of having TONS of Fine Arts classes I got A's in and a great History teacher who gave me C's when I deserved F's (because otherwise I'd have failed to graduate at all).
Today (Thursday) I was in class, and my teacher (a PhD who I think the world of) asked if any of us had started on our homework for Monday. I was the only one in a class of about 14 to raise my hand. The teacher and several students made comments like, "Oh, well duh! No surprise there!" It's amazing, when you view yourself as one thing to have a public perception that you're not that thing, and to have it be relatively earned. It was nice.
The friend I'm writing about today always saw within me the capacity to create that reaction, and she treated me that way when I least deserved it.
This friend is someone who in school would have been my polar opposite academically. She graduated early as a 17 year old, worked her tail off, and was on her own teaching English when she was 21 years old. She is an aspiring writer, and has great talent at what she does. She always shoots for the moon and has great goals. One of my favorite quotes from this friend is, "My life might be normal, but that doesn't mean my thoughts are average." This friend was my journalism teacher in 11th grade, and let a knucklehead like me be the editor of her paper. She dreamed bigger though. She wanted to run an underground newspaper that talked about the things that students cared about, with pen names, and all sorts of code. She wanted to have my friend and I write and then pass it on to younger students as time went on, so it would always remain a 2-4 person job that was part of a select group of thinkers and writers. Cool, right?
This friend was my teacher only one half of one year, but became a friend who I could talk to about anything. She's only six years my senior, and relates well. She would talk about how she viewed people if they were characters in another time and another place. I think the observations she had about people were the kind of thing that inspired me to write this blog. People are absolutely fascinating. We read biographies, blogs, and articles about people. We watch plays and movies that tackle topics of interest. At the end of the day, all the most important things we ever do in society are about people. Sometimes that gets lost in numbers, causes, or other trivial outliers, but everything starts with people. This friend, who I'll call Jewels, understood how priceless and fascinating people are.
Jewels is also a person who has a good grasp on life. She has a really adorable little girl, and is a great mom. Being a mom has always been one of her passions, and she has a good husband she's devoted to. She's handled personal tragedy well, and really weathers tough storms. She has remarkable balance in her life. She's a good teacher because she not only teaches her subject well, she teaches about life through her subject. She's excited about getting kids reading. She loves helping kids write and really exploring things they've never been able to communicate before. She helps kids like me become men like I'm trying to become. It's teachers like her that made me want to be a good teacher. I have other teachers I owe a lot to, but this one is not only an inspiration; I also have the fortune of counting her as a friend.
Today I had an experience that really compelled me to write about my friend today. But first, a flashback.
When I was in third grade, my parents noticed that I often came home with papers that said, "Scott forgot his homework today!" My parents called me into their room and told me if I could go a week without getting a slip like that, they'd reward me. I didn't last a single day. That was a habit, or a choice in many ways, that never stopped plaguing me. I was one of those weird kids that wasn't dumb, just lazy. I would ace my tests and get C's in my classes because I didn't do the homework. I graduated high school with a 2.9 GPA (Not stellar, especially compared to my friends, family and future wife) but I got a 30 on the ACT that exceeded many of my peers. Even my 2.9 was a gift of having TONS of Fine Arts classes I got A's in and a great History teacher who gave me C's when I deserved F's (because otherwise I'd have failed to graduate at all).
Today (Thursday) I was in class, and my teacher (a PhD who I think the world of) asked if any of us had started on our homework for Monday. I was the only one in a class of about 14 to raise my hand. The teacher and several students made comments like, "Oh, well duh! No surprise there!" It's amazing, when you view yourself as one thing to have a public perception that you're not that thing, and to have it be relatively earned. It was nice.
The friend I'm writing about today always saw within me the capacity to create that reaction, and she treated me that way when I least deserved it.
This friend is someone who in school would have been my polar opposite academically. She graduated early as a 17 year old, worked her tail off, and was on her own teaching English when she was 21 years old. She is an aspiring writer, and has great talent at what she does. She always shoots for the moon and has great goals. One of my favorite quotes from this friend is, "My life might be normal, but that doesn't mean my thoughts are average." This friend was my journalism teacher in 11th grade, and let a knucklehead like me be the editor of her paper. She dreamed bigger though. She wanted to run an underground newspaper that talked about the things that students cared about, with pen names, and all sorts of code. She wanted to have my friend and I write and then pass it on to younger students as time went on, so it would always remain a 2-4 person job that was part of a select group of thinkers and writers. Cool, right?
This friend was my teacher only one half of one year, but became a friend who I could talk to about anything. She's only six years my senior, and relates well. She would talk about how she viewed people if they were characters in another time and another place. I think the observations she had about people were the kind of thing that inspired me to write this blog. People are absolutely fascinating. We read biographies, blogs, and articles about people. We watch plays and movies that tackle topics of interest. At the end of the day, all the most important things we ever do in society are about people. Sometimes that gets lost in numbers, causes, or other trivial outliers, but everything starts with people. This friend, who I'll call Jewels, understood how priceless and fascinating people are.
Jewels is also a person who has a good grasp on life. She has a really adorable little girl, and is a great mom. Being a mom has always been one of her passions, and she has a good husband she's devoted to. She's handled personal tragedy well, and really weathers tough storms. She has remarkable balance in her life. She's a good teacher because she not only teaches her subject well, she teaches about life through her subject. She's excited about getting kids reading. She loves helping kids write and really exploring things they've never been able to communicate before. She helps kids like me become men like I'm trying to become. It's teachers like her that made me want to be a good teacher. I have other teachers I owe a lot to, but this one is not only an inspiration; I also have the fortune of counting her as a friend.
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