May 2013 – *ddileo

Room 0925

In a world where people are cold, dark and harsh; I found love. I found warmth. Most importantly, I found innocence. I found all of these things in a little girl. The bravest, most robust human being couldn’t measure up to what this gentle angel was.

She died on Christmas Eve. I remember thinking nothing could be more suitable; a gift to God would be an understatement. I had the grandest pleasure of witnessing her final days. Seeing her strength and love for her family was foreign to me. I grew up an orphan, was lucky enough to find parents. But having parents is different than having someone you called a mother and a father. They did their 18 years of duty and please don’t get me wrong, I appreciated every inch of it. But this little girl had it different. There was genuine care and love. Not from her parents, but from her. It can almost be explained as if she was conducting an orchestra, no one fighting her, just playing along in unison. But it was clear she was the conductor.

Maybe this was all due to her condition. You see, I’m a janitor in a hospital. So my visions of this little girl are only similar to vignettes of my passing by. She had no hair, she should of looked weak, and she should have looked frail and pale. She didn’t. You have never seen someone more vibrant in your life.

She had leukemia. She was in her final stages. This was evident. What wasn’t evident was that she would teach me more in a week than I would learn my entire life. It took me a couple days to figure out something special was occurring in room 0925. Day after day I did my rounds, saw Doctors in and out of the room. Balloons and gifts engulfed her surroundings. But one gift changed my life. One gift.

Before I got to my rounds on her floor on day 5, she was gone. The room was grey and ordinary. Nothing special. Nothing vibrant. Nothing innocent. It made me think how quickly things can change. It made me sad that I never met her. I went in to mop and sanitize room 0925 on day 5 sad, but working here, you get used to people leaving. This was different. The happiness on that little girl’s face sparked my life with light. It didn’t seem fair that she was gone. It didn’t seem fair that we never spoke. But sometimes that’s how life is. It just leaves you with unanswered questions. Working in a hospital for a while, I should have known better. But the energy that little girl gave off was so rich and pure. It was a breath of fresh air I couldn’t resist.

Not all was lost. While cleaning her room I found something of significance. Something I would have passed by any other day, in any other room. A business card lay peacefully behind a chair. Sure enough the address was richly printed on the front.

My decision to go the address was a simple one. Up until the moment I first saw her, my entire life was idle without being conscious of it. I had to go to this address. Call it selfish, call it what you like.

When I arrived at the address, I was shocked it was a private home. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but there was a moment that happened to me in that driveway. I like to call it a moment of clarity. I guess when something special occurs in anyone’s life, theres always a pinch me moment. You always must take a step back from it. Let your feet hit the ground. I mean that’s life. That’s reality. So here it was. Do I let life put another stop sign in front of me to obey? Or do I leave my own path in the woods? I was too tired of stop signs.

The reason I am writing you isn’t because I put my car in reverse. I walked up those steps and knocked on that door. Each knock was a sound of optimism. I waited and waited, studied the door and waited more. There was no answer. For a moment that door seemed like my life. It stood as still as static. Waiting for something to occur was all too familiar in my life.

Ironically, the door was unlocked. Letting myself in was a simple enough choice. Pictures of the little girl surrounded the house. The environment was calm, dim and peaceful. Silence echoed and soothed the air. I was wondering where everyone was, there were so many cars in the driveway?

Suddenly, a knock on the door intruded my silence. I looked back quickly. I was in shock to see the little girl standing in the doorway. She smiled at me gently and continued to slowly walk up to me. I felt a urge of rush accompanied with infinite questions. How is she OK? Is she healthy? All these obvious questions seemed so irrelevant. So fake, compared to the reality of her footsteps.

She handed me a letter, it read as follows:

“This is a private letter to you. A letter from me to you. It’s not important who I am or Where I live. I could be your grandmother. I could be your son. I could live across the street or on the other side of the world. But maybe just maybe I caught you at a time in your life where the magic has left. Maybe you needed to hear about optimism and innocence. Maybe this letter was specifically written for you. On the other hand, maybe you have already written this letter to someone and have grown weary of life. Maybe you need to be encouraged. You need to believe that the world around you doesn’t define you. Maybe you just need to hear, no matter who you are, that life is beautiful. That life has treasures. That life has miracles. And most importantly, and so vital for you to understand, life is what you make it.“

I put the letter down and looked for her. It was no coincidence she was gone. She didn’t need to stay. Her purpose was fulfilled. Whatever it was, it was complete. I took one last look at the interior of that house. So calm, so peaceful. I exited softly and drove my car pondering what I just experienced.

The next day at the hospital, I started to notice a difference in myself. I was more open to people. More open to help, more available to talk, more apt to listen. I started valuing people instead of evaluating them. I started living life with my arms open. A change had struck. A real change.

Years have gone by, but not a day passed I didn’t put that letter in my pocket. I assume it’s only suitable that you know the truth. Today I am in a hospital, but not for work. My time isn’t long here. I lived a long life. Some good, some bad. But it seemed a unison belief my time was limited.

When the nurse asked me what instructions I had regarding my death. I only requested one thing. I handed her the letter and told her softly “read it and pass it to a stranger.” She smiled and accepted.

Deep Thoughts, Life, Movies

Movies & My Childhood

When i decided that starting a blog made sense in my life, i had to configure what was worth writing about. After an almost endless internal thought process, my passions started to become clear. It’s funny how aspects of your life stay with you. Friends certainly don’t, relationships for the most part fall by the wayside. Few things have been with me my entire life. The love of movies is one of them.

Being a young boy i remember the impact of movies and how the “larger than life” feel was a powerful one. My parents got divorced when i was a weird age. Not quite old enough to drive myself to and from at my will and certainly not young enough to be oblivious to what was happening around me. To the best of my knowledge, i coped with their divorce in many ways, one of the largest being film.

There i was, a 12 year old going from house to house with my backpack full of movies. While i had many friends at this period in my life, none of them were making the to’s and fro’s to my parent’s separate worlds. The love of film entered my life because a void needed to be filled. Picture a train going its normal speed but with no stops. Just a continuous ride. Thats how i felt. For whatever reason, movies gave me my stop. My train station if you will.

The films in that backpack started to become essential to me. No matter what my ever-changing life could throw, those films always were consistent in being present. Always there, always the same and to a 12 year old who’s life was always being altered, that was a big deal.

(While the titles changed sometimes randomly) the staples were always accounted for. Rear Window, Rope. Close Encounters of the Third kind, Vertigo among others. The characters in these films became my closest friends. No matter what i was going through, no matter what changed, no matter who entered and exited; these characters remained. There is something to be said about people in your life. Your “real friends” people say, are the ones that stick close through thick and thin. By definition then, mine were people i never met. Although they obviously will never know the role they played in my life, thankfully they were there when i needed them most.

Thinking back on those days, the emotions and results alike, i honestly can’t picture that time without film. One of my favorite aspects of movies is how they can be so, so personal to someone and nothing more than a mere 2 hours wasted in another’s life. The point is they reach. In that time in my life, i needed some reaching and was eager to reach back.

Film has impacting me to the extent of making my own. The words “The Fiction” will always be very special to me. I remember writing The Fiction and just the pure act of really writing a movie felt so close to home for me. I felt comfortable and familiar. When the decision to film came about, surprisingly i was even more comfortable. I won’t prolong this post on The Fiction as i suppose future posts will call “The Fiction” home, but to not mention it in this body of words would have been a serious crime Sam Spade certainly wouldn’t have allowed.

Done right or not, movies speak. We are all so different that movies align properly with whom they choose. They do all of us justice or a disservice. They point something out in your life or simply remind you of a past memory. They make you appreciate or repress. While the final verdict of a film differs between us all, we can all agree on one thing; movies touch us in our own unique ways. I know they did for me. Much like the characters i befriended long ago, film will never know my love for it. But that doesn’t mean i’ll stop reaching. More importantly it means movies will never stop reaching back for me. And ill be there.

Deep Thoughts, Life, Technology

Tech > You?

If there was ever a time of having the most control over my life, I would say it’s now. The stars have aligned perfectly with our existence and the gadget industry to not only control our lives more efficiently, but in a whole, force them into submission. Yet why is it I personally don’t feel that way. Moreover, why does it seem reversed? Why do I pull to refresh for the next status update or tweet more often than I do things of substance? A more than worthy question in my humble opinion.

I have been dreaming up this article since I started using an iPhone in 2007. The interesting and maybe very telling thing is, I couldn’t bring myself to write it. I’m not sure if my hesitance was because of uncertainty on what I was feeling or me simply suppressing the truth. Either way, after years of ponder, only one thing could be said. The only fact I’ve learned is a simple one: My tech had altered my life. Some would argue in a good way. Sure, that makes sense to me on the surface, and there’s certainly enough productivity apps to support such an argument. Unfortunately all the dropboxes in the world couldn’t fix my problem. The only workflow that seamlessly fixed my problem was me.

One in my position would probably start this journey of “fixing” their tech ruled world by rewinding to the beginning. So I did. I figured laptops and desktops have been around for a bit, and I certainly owned them. So why all of sudden am I feeling like a slave to my tech? A humble conclusion on my part: Mobile.

Mobile is different. Mobile is with you. Mobile is an extension of you. Mobile slowly claims ownership of you, at least in my case. How could this happen? A cell phone certainly doesn’t aim to control you. What was I doing to let this happen? I simply wanted a phone to call,text and use an app here and there. A simple beginning to a complicated, self recognized middle.

Like any interested researcher, I had to look into the content of my subject. If my subject was my phone, then that content only pointed to one direction, Apps. And on a more personal level, I had to look into myself and how I use apps.

Apps are an amazing new technology that apple invented in 2008. Wait. Wait a second, no they aren’t. Apps have simply went on a diet and slimmed down their figure and look a whole lot more attractive. They used to be called Applications and their existence goes back as far as their elderly host hardware. So why now? Why is the glue stickier than ever between these “apps” and me.

The following two factors are mainly my personal belief and not fact supported, only privately applied and thought through. By no means do intend on solving these issues. Individually, I believe we all have the tools to solve these potential issue personally. My objective is to only shine a light on them.

Intrusion

There it is. In your pocket. You know, your device. All the time. Yes all the time. Isn’t it scary to think the only time you were more than 20 feet away from your current device was when you were tracking it’s shipping status on your previous? Intrusion speaks volumes to me. The attachment I felt, or connection if you will. Any where I go there it is. When does iMovie go from being a revolutionary app to an anxiety filled event because I know what it’s capable of and just don’t have the time. When does siri become more of a trust worthy companion than your long life buddy? Intrusion never allows you to rest. Simply because the security of your “safe wall” if you will, has been permanently lowered. Of course we love the technology that brings us information but something else is happening in the background. Our brains are being programmed to not search, to not inquire and most importantly, to not feel content. Laugh if you will, but don’t laugh too long to miss the writing on the wall.

Instant

It’s safe for me to say these elements were bogging me down and bogging me down in a big way. How do I fight against instant gratification? How do I control instant gratification without limiting the device I adore? We buy these phones for their features. Case in point: Push Notifications. What a great technology. Convenient, up to date, yet unknowingly training us to expect things at the very second. Push is great, it helps and it hurts, but for me personally, the hurt outweighed the help.

Instant gratification allowed my mind to become numb and possibly lazy. We all admire that information gets pushed to us almost immediately as it happens and we love the convenience of such a tool, but something should be said for receiving content in a timely, dear I say old fashioned manner. The digestion of information is something I completely lost. I used to enjoy taking time, reading a story initially, then revisiting time and time again, like a great film. Somewhere along the line, I rapidly moved from comfort reading at my own pace to falling behind in my instapaper queue. Now I’m certainly not saying instant information is a bad thing whatsoever, but its a powerful tool. To quote one of my more enjoyable films: “with great power comes great responsibility.” As I honestly look back, initially I lacked responsibility, or maybe more accurately, I didn’t know I needed it.

My solution: Don’t let those 2 I’s overcome the two on your face. Look around, see the world. Experience a great conversation once and awhile. Talk about something that you aren’t an expert on for a change. I lost that, I lost the wonder I had because I simply wikipediaed what I needed to know instead of actually experiencing it.

A more beneficial ingredient would be to listen and not google. Sure tech is great and smartphones are a great achievement in the history of man. But don’t let it define you. It was defining me to a point that I lost the things I was interested in.

Of course there are settings that I could have manipulated to simply terminate any of my issues. That’s not really the point though is it? My goal was to live with this technology, not show it the back door. The goal was to find a happy medium, there almost always is one. And seemingly, your happy medium is probably different then your friends in your contacts.app.

Although the fight is a daily battle, it’s worth it. If indeed you are a soldier in this fight, keep going. Don’t eliminate try and mediate. Take a look at your life and see what is really needed and most importantly, see what isn’t. Now, if your not in this battle and your pixels don’t hinder your life in the least bit, take this opinionated article as caution, not as confirmation. To forget or ignore something simply allows it to be born again in another form.

Stop pulling down to refresh your life. Look around. It’s liberating. I promise.

Family, Life

Boston, a good day for the soul

Exploring cities has always been interesting to me and while admittedly, i’m more the quiet type of walking and observing fame, i find my thoughts and words brimming over the top to recap such a great day. From the New England Aquarium all the way to the depths of the T, me and my family had a special day in Boston.

The history that Boston has spawned is immense, vast and simply remarkable. The minute you begin to grasp just how much content has been born there is the minute you feel overwhelmed to learn every last drop of it. As a native new englander, i’ve been to Boston many times and while my appreciation increases with each visit, it never fails to amaze me how much i actually don’t know about the city. The conversion of the Liberty Hotel from a jailhouse to 5 star suites, the manipulating maneuvers of the Charles River due to rain in the forecasts and Ben Franklin’s favorite park area are just a few small examples of fascinating facts that would be passed by on any other day.

First stop was the New England Aquarium. A great way to start the day for sure. Construction was going on throughout the building and while some people were clearly taken back by the visuals of the work, we simply swayed around it and enjoyed the wet world of fish. The highlight was undoubtly touching starfish and crabs. In a weird moment of me feeling proud, my son had no fears to touch these fish. My only thought was thinking of myself 20 years ago and how the idea of touching crabs (or anything under the sea for that matter) was a strict no go. Great job Liam, another area you’ve surpassed daddy. When walking became Liam’s main attraction instead of sea lions and sting rays, we knew it was probably time to go. Exit aquarium.

Enter Quincy Market. A nice enough place to shop, a better venue to eat. While the food isn’t the best Boston has to offer, you get a good sense of bostonian grub and a good variety to choose from at that. Bacon wrapped chicken it was and while it was good, the clear winner of this trip was a sugar cookie the size of a frisbee. Not kidding. An added bonus of spending time at Faneuil Hall is to simply drop in on a strangers convos and experience a bahston accent first hand.

Duck tours sound corny. If you have ever seen one, you would agree they look it too. Added to that fact that forced “quacks” will inevitably be echoing in your ears for hours to come. With that said, anytime a car drives into a river and stays a float wins as default as the coolest thing in the world. My son was asleep for most of the trip but me and Linds took it all in. Our tour guide, MC History (not joking) was super informative and as we learned, very passionate about Boston and it’s history. I could tell Linds was really appreciating the history of Boston and how could you not. It’s like the romance section of America’s video store. With one final quack the duck ride was over, as was Liam’s Nap.

It was great to see my son(2 years young) walk around Boston freely. Sure there were times when hands were held, but for the most part, he was free to roam (under strict supervision of course :) ) This means significantly more, considering the cowardly acts that occurred on 04/15/2013. My wife Linds made a statement in the neighborhood of “America’s greatness rests in it’s strength.” I couldn’t help but agree. Say what you will, but there was something empowering about walking in that very location where those bombs went off and seeing people observing, respecting yet continuing. Continuing on, visitors and locals alike. I’ll be the first to admit America has more than it’s share of problem, but frankly, strength of the common people isn’t one of them. Visiting Boylston St. was one of those moments in life where time stood still. All of life’s worries and issues seemingly were small standing on that battle ground. Priorities took the forefront and you measure up whats really important and more importantly what’s not.

A word on Visuals. The unison of old and new is one aspect of Boston that has routinely stuck out at me. I don’t personally feel that Boston is an esthetically pleasing portrait to view in a whole, but in many ways it’s the polar opposite of the “painting effect” put in practice. The closer you look into Boston the more appealing things become. The details shine. The buildings that have been thoughtfully and carefully added on to preserve the original integrity yet adding a glimpse of contemporary flair. The perfectly kept cobblestone roadways that seamlessly blends into the main roads of Boston. Keep in mind, all this attention to detail can be lost with a simple pass by, but the observant eye is king in Boston. Moreover, Boston deserves the observant eye.

With the help of warm sunshine and good directions, we had a fantastic time. I live a very busy life and this retreat reminded me just how important it is to take time off. From your job yes, but from your everyday thoughts. It was refreshing to be on streets i’ve never walked before. It was exhilarating to be a part of history by simply engaging with it. It was captivating and humbling to learn facts i wouldn’t push myself to learn otherwise. Most importantly and paramount, it was joy unspeakable to experience this great day of learning and laughing with great people in my life. I recommend such a day. Good medicine for the mind. Even better for the soul.