An Ordinary Day That Wasn’t

Y ou don’t get to shape your days. You just kind of get an idea of what they might look like.

Mine was very different than what I expected.

And right now, here is one of those things happening.

I’m on the causeway between the Harbor Bridge and Portland, and I’m just noticing my fuel light is on. 

I'm running on E also, kind of like my tank.

Yeah… let’s hope I make it home.

When I woke up this morning, it was about an hour before I actually had to get up. I was parched. Definitely cold. I had to turn down my AC. But there was still an ache in me.

That doesn’t seem to go away.

I carry it.

Maybe that’s the one constant.

I even wrote a song recently that I’m going to be releasing under my dark pop project. It’s related to this exact feeling.

So I woke up… actually, no—I take that back.

I woke up and thought, what the hell am I doing up? I still have time. So I went back to sleep.

Then the alarm started going off.

Snoozed it.

Went off again. Snoozed it again.

Then one more time—just enough time to still make it to work in 45 minutes, because that’s how long it takes from point A to point B.

I actually made it in less time. I was there before anybody.

It was time to start the day.

I knew I’d be heading to Victoria. So I prepared myself to be on the road for at least three hours.

It took a little longer to get on the road than expected. I was supposed to leave the warehouse by 8:30, but I didn’t leave until closer to 9.

My boss said they call the truck I’m driving Big Bertha.

It’s probably the biggest one they’ve got.

And it’s huge.

I’m not used to driving anything that big.

So yeah… it’s been an adjustment.

I got to my destination, and the whole time I was on the road, I used that time to self-reflect and do some research.

I just hate that there’s no cruise control on those trucks.

I got spoiled.

About 30 minutes into the trip, I called my boss and asked, “Hey, does this truck have cruise control?”

He said, “I don’t think that truck has it. I don’t think any of our trucks do.”

I said, “Alright, no worries. Just wanted to check.”

But that worried me a little bit.

Keeping my foot pressed on the gas for long periods of time… that’s something that’s aggravated my sciatica before.

Fortunately, this job is temporary.

I just hope it doesn’t cause any damage while I’m doing it.

I did make time to stretch though. Some therapeutic work—glutes, hamstrings, just trying to stay ahead of it.

I got to my drop-off location.

And I ended up having to take the order to another location, but it was only about a 15-minute difference.

Nothing major.

I made the drop-off, then headed back to the warehouse. Another hour and a half on the road.

Got back around 12:10.

Decided it was time for lunch.

Didn’t really have anything to eat. I had already eaten earlier. I stopped by a spot and picked up some mollejas.

I don’t know why I like them so much. I just do.

Things have just been… weird lately.

When I got back to the warehouse, I got a phone call.

It was from the retirement home I visited yesterday.

A guy named Adam. Head of security.

He said the residents had been asking about me. Wanted to know who I was.

He told me they had seen me on the cameras, saw that I signed in, saw the business cards I left.

He asked if I was with a church. An organization.

I told him, “No. I’m just… me.”

We talked about the mission. The flowers.

He loved it.

He apologized for all the questioning, but said, you know, when someone just shows up and starts giving flowers away, it’s going to raise some eyebrows.

But he also said they watched how I interacted with people.

Said I carried myself well. Had good rapport with the residents and staff.

Then he told me something I didn’t expect.

“If you ever come back,” he said, “stop by security. We’ll give you a tag. We’ll help you out with what you’re doing.”

That meant something.

So I’ll be going back.

And I’ll bring them flowers too.

After lunch, I went back to my duties.

Finding things to do. Cleaning buckets.

The wonderful world of buckets, as my coworker Laura says.

Yeah, she’s in and out. She drives all over the place. I see her here and there.

Every time I do, she’s been very nice.

Yvonne was one of the first ones to welcome me. She’s been very pleasant and really great to work with.

Jantzen—he’s another one. A really solid coworker. I mentioned him in a previous entry. He’s been helpful and supportive.

So yeah, I’ve got support from the warehouse side of things.

And my boss, Alan—great guy. Very respectful. Easy to work with. Honestly, I don’t have anything negative to say about him.

Like I said… just about everybody’s been great. A couple of rude peeps who think I'll let barking at me have a pass, but they do not know me. 

I'm no pushover and I don't tolerate disrespect. F*ck around and find out. For the most I've been letting it roll off.

So I got back from lunch—around 12:50. Started working again. Cleaning buckets, moving carts, sweeping. Just staying busy.

Then I went into the cooler area.

I was sweeping, cleaning up… and I turned around.

And there she was.

Someone from my past.

Pauline.

A family friend.

We were both shocked.

I hadn’t seen her since… 2013, I’d say.

And back then, things didn’t end well.

There was bitterness. She had done something that affected me—something I wasn’t aware of at the time. It came from a place of trying to help someone else… but it crossed me.

It created a divide.

Between me and her. Between her and my parents.

Everyone was upset. I was upset.

And after that, things were never the same.

My mom… she missed her. All the way up until she passed.

I know she would’ve wanted to make things right.

And honestly, I did too.

Over time, I understood more. I knew Pauline’s intentions weren’t bad… but the impact still mattered.

Still, I’ve said it before—you can’t carry that kind of stuff with you.

Not where we’re trying to go.

You have to let it go.

And real forgiveness… real forgiveness wipes it clean.

So we’re standing there, both in shock.

We shared about the loved ones we’ve lost since the last time we saw each other.

And then we hugged.

I could tell she needed that forgiveness.

She said she felt so bad about everything.

And I gave it to her instantly.

Because the truth is… it had already been given.

We had already missed her for so many years.

There was nothing left to hold on to.

We start catching up—years of distance, condensed into a few moments.

I asked about a mutual friend of ours, Pastor McKinley Darden.

We call him Mac. Everybody calls him Mac.

I’ve always called him Mr. Mac.

That’s just been my thing with him.

He’s always been someone who offered spiritual guidance to us, through a lot of different things back in the day when we were all close.

She told me she still sees him.

I’m pretty sure he still lives in the same place.

I need to make an effort to go see him soon.

I remember a time we were on the phone while I was on the road.

He told me he had lost his father. His father lived to be 103. That had to have been quite a life.

And even as a pastor… he told me it was hard.

He was grieving.

He was human.

I said the things people usually say.

He’s in a better place.

All the things that get said.

And he received it, but I could hear it in his voice.

The strength… and the sadness at the same time.

And I’ve held on to that.

Because I know I haven’t handled my mom’s passing very well.

I’m still working through it.

I’m still in counseling.

But between the guidance I’ve been getting recently… and the guidance I’ve had in the past from Mr. Mac…

I can see how both are helping me.

And it made me think about yesterday.

I was tempted to smoke.

I was stressed… and I wanted a cigarette bad.

But I didn’t.

Because somehow, that decision is tied to something else.

My hair.

I stopped smoking around the same time I cut all my hair off.

So I made a decision.

I’d stop smoking… and I’d let my hair grow.

They became connected.

So when I wanted that cigarette… I couldn’t do it.

Not mentally. Not spiritually.

Because my hair is growing.

I know that sounds weird.

But that’s what kept me from doing it.

And now I’m in that awkward phase.

My barber didn’t even blend it.

She said the growth was good and told me to let it grow.

Next time, she said we’ll shape it.

Low taper.

So for now… this is what it is.

And this whole haircut phase I’m in right now… it reminds me of something.

My cat, Monkey.

There was a time this past year, after my mom passed, when I had to shave his fur off.

He had developed an infection on his skin.

And honestly… it was probably due to neglect.

I wasn’t paying attention to him. His litter box. Anything.

My whole world had collapsed.

So I had to shave his fur just to see what was going on… so I could treat the areas where the infection had spread.

It took almost a full year for his fur to grow back to normal.

And now… I get it.

Now I know how he felt.

And honestly, it makes me feel worse for him.

And I know I haven’t been handling my mom’s passing very well.

I’m still working through it.

And what’s going to make it even harder…

is where I’m at right now.

I’m working where I’m working.

And I’m also on this floral assignment—going into nursing homes, handing out flowers.

Places my mom used to volunteer at.

It just happened that way.

Or maybe it didn’t.

Maybe it’s divine.

But with Mother’s Day coming up…

that’s going to be a hard one.

And it’s coming up fast.

While we were talking in the cooler, Jantzen came in.

And then it turned into all of us talking—sharing how we hadn’t seen each other in so many years, catching up on everything. The funny moments, the things life throws at you, all the people we were connected through.

It was a good moment.

After that, I helped Pauline to her car with the items she was picking up from the warehouse.

That moment… it was something we needed.

It was something that had to happen.

I believe it was a divine appointment.

And I do believe God was working in that moment.

Then I went back inside.

At that point, I had about two hours left in the day.

And I knew I had to figure out what I was going to do.

I was tired.

I originally had an appointment at 5, which I ended up canceling. I'm zonked.

But before that decision, I had to figure out where I was going to take the flowers.

So I got on the phone.

Pulled up Google. Started searching for nursing homes nearby.

I didn’t want to go somewhere polished or upscale like the one from yesterday. I wanted something simple. Close.

One place stood out.

I called and spoke with the activities coordinator, Jessica Owens.

I explained what I was trying to do, and she was all for it.

This time, it was going to be more of a drop-off. She didn’t have time to assist directly, so I told her I would leave everything with the staff and they could take it from there.

I was really tired… but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

So I gathered what I had.

About 108 single-stem roses.

Different colors—pink, hot pink, red, white.

Along with that, I had a small bouquet of pink roses—about a dozen.

Then some daisies. Really elegant-looking ones.

And another bouquet—I don’t even know the name of them. They have these bulbs at the top and bloom into something really beautiful.

Three bouquets total, aside from the single-stem roses.

Those were meant for people who were going through something. People who needed something a little more than just a single rose.

I made that clear to the staff.

The roses were to be separated and handed out individually to the residents.

I explained they would need to cut about an inch off the stems at the bottom, separate them, and distribute them.

I didn’t have time to prep them myself.

The staff was excited. You could tell—they were ready to get them out to the residents.

Jessica also mentioned something interesting.

From the 10th through the 15th, they’re having a special event centered around flowers.

She told me if I could bring more during that time, it would mean a lot.

The 15th is actually my last day at the warehouse… unless I decide to stay.

So we’ll see.

It’s funny.

This whole thing started as a work assignment.

But it’s also a God assignment.

As soon as I got off, I headed straight there and dropped everything off.

After that, I decided not to go to my appointment. I canceled it.

I just went home because I’m tired.

I picked up some food for me and my dad.

And while I was doing that, I got a text from Pauline… and Paul.

They’re excited to make plans and reconnect.

Paul had texted me after he found out Pauline ran into me.

He said it was a blessing.

And I agreed.

It’s a blessing to reconnect like that after so many years.

But I’ll be honest… I wasn’t expecting that.

For someone to say that finding me was a blessing.

Not that I think low of myself or anything like that.

I just don’t think I’ve ever really considered myself a blessing.

So it caught me off guard.

In a good way.

I’m still kind of sitting with that.

Paul also mentioned he might be able to get me into his company… or another one.

So that’s a blessing.

You never know—I may need to seek new employment soon.

So we’ll see.

But doors are opening.

It’s going to be good seeing them again.

It’s just… unfortunate my mom isn’t here to see them also.

I know she would’ve loved that.

I finally made it home after stopping at the gas station.

Fortunately, I made it.

Filled up the tank… and man, gas prices have gone up tremendously.

I wasn’t expecting to spend that much at the pump, but I did.

Tank’s full now.

I made it home. Now time to rest!

Now I’m just looking forward to whatever’s next.

Oh, wait.

Tomorrow’s my big day.

I’m going to be working from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m.

That’s going to suck.

But this is what I decided.

I don’t even know how this is going to work, but I’m going to try to pull it off.

This is about to be my life for a while.

Every day moving forward.

I think that’s why I canceled that 5 p.m. appointment.

I’m already tired, and I know what’s coming.

Nonstop work. Nonstop movement.

Work and sleep. Work and sleep.

If I get home around 11:30, I’m going straight to sleep… just to wake up and do it all over again.

Over and over. 

Man… this is going to be rough.

I don’t even know why I signed up for this.

But here we are.

It might interfere with my flower assignment mission.

But I’ll figure it out.

I’ll find a way to make it work.

I always do.