Four-letter words

It has been a while since I have been able to update my blog, which is indicative of a few things. Certainly there has been a sharp increase in the workload, and I took a short trip home this past weekend to celebrate my son’s birthday. Both of these things have kept me away from other trivial pursuits, but let me tell you a little about the trip.

When I say "short," I am not exaggerating. The one-way trip is 200 miles or 3.5 hours. On Saturday morning I loaded up the dog, cat, and my daughter (who is a sophomore in college) and we headed home. The dog, cat, and college kid slept for most of the ride--at least until the sun came up–and I got to spend some time reflecting on the past five weeks, this new experience, and this new life that has taken me so far away from home.

Home is one of my favorite words. There are so many memories and ideals wrapped up in that one syllable, four-letter word. I can smell home. I know its temperature and dimensions. I know how tall the grass is at home. How horrible it must be to be homeless. One of the few perks of moving away is the joy in coming home, looking at the old neighborhood, being greeted in the driveway by the family who has waited for your arrival, and spending a few precious moments with those you left behind. There was plenty of that on Saturday. The day was filled with some of my favorite homes. Every home was different, but every homecoming was the same. There were front porch greetings, lots of hugs, some tears, and way too much food.

Certainly everyone needs a certain amount of food to survive, but I can’t imagine any culture getting more comfort from food than we do. Regardless of the event–birthday, wedding, ball game, surgery, or death–we surround it with food. The only way to explain it is “It’s a Southern thing.”

Just some of the food on my mom’s table Saturday night included ham, chicken pastry, squash fritters, fresh corn, fresh green beans, potato salad, deviled eggs, collards, biscuits and cornbread–not to mention dessert. Earlier in the day I had visited Phyllis and family; and, of course, we had to have a piece of apple cake before we left. Sunday morning I met my son for breakfast (more food), and then as we were about to leave town, Carol (my neighbor) brought some of her famous vegetable beef soup for me. All three are wrapped tight together: home, food, love.

More importantly, though, there were the hugs and love that we were able to share with our family, friends, and neighbors. It was so good to reach out and touch those people who know you as well as you know yourself. While I take full advantage of e-mail and cell phone service, there is nothing that can replace the power of a hug. So, our stomachs were filled with our favorite southern delicacies, but our hearts were filled with the love from those who are so precious to us. And, yet, we were home for less than twenty-four hours, so there were many people that we couldn’t see in that time frame. It was good to visit with so many and sad that we couldn’t stay longer.

The return trip–of 200 miles–began Sunday morning, less than 24 hours after we had arrived. We left before sunrise (again), and the scenario unfolded much the same in the return trip, i.e., the college kid, dog, and cat slept while I drove. I thought about those that I couldn’t see while making this quick trip and I wished I could have spent more time with those that I did see. I hope that there will be a time in the near future when we will get to visit until our hearts are full.

There’s nothing spectacular about this posting. It is filled with simple four-letter words. While I readily admit that law school is expanding my vocabulary, it is these one syllable, four-letter words that hold such significant meaning, like hope...wish...food...love...hugs...and home. These four-letter words should have a special place in your vocabulary and in your heart. I hope they do.

The final few four-letter words that I must address tonight are “read” and “work,” which are terrible utterances to use after discussing such happy subjects, but they bring me back to reality and the asset that I must manage wisely: time. Good night.

BLS: Before law school

Once upon a time I was an avid reader. That was BLS.

Avid [av-id] Adj. 1. Enthusiastic; ardent; dedicated; keen; 2. keenly desirous; eager; greedy.

Yes, that was me! I subscribed to three daily newspapers (News-Argus, N & O, and WSJ), at least six monthly magazines (Forbes, Oprah, Biography, Reader's Digest, CCM, Business 2.0, Newsweek,etc.), and received daily updates from Word-A-Day, Lawyers' Weekly, CourtTv. I subscribed to webzines, list serves, and blogs (of course). I took my kids to the library on a weekly basis so that they, too, would enjoy the world of words and appreciate where they could take you.

That was BLS. Now I am the inimical reader.

Inimical. [i-nim-i-kuhl] Adj. 1. Adverse, contrary, opposed to

I do not even want to read street signs. The scrolling news across the bottom of CNN...totally ignored. It's just mumbo jumbo to me.

The sheer amount of reading that has to be--as in MUST BE--completed each day is overwhelming. After a mere three weeks of reading assignments, if all of the pages were combined into one volume, I dare say it could rival War and Peace.

I realized the extent of this new aversion to words today. When I left campus after class...completely famished, of course. So, my first stop is an eatery. The only rule? I do not want to go some place new where I would be required to (1) read the menu; (2) compare choices; (3) analyze the cost versus content argument; and (4) make a decision. So, I stop at the same cafeteria and basically eat the same or similar lunch selection. No words or reading required; just point to the food picture and it appears on your plate.

This new status as the inimical reader has me annoyed with the former avid reader who did not take advantage of every (or most) opportunities to read for pleasure...the sheer joy of reading. The stacks of books on my shelves that will probably not be touched for years are just mere memorials of the once avid reader who lived here. But that was BLS. How sad a demise.

There's about a hundred pages of reading for tonight's assignments, and probably just as much for tomorrow night's. The inevitable cannot be delayed for more than a few moments. The clock is ticking and tomorrow is only hours away. Whether I sleep or eat is optional; but I must read. Time to turn the page...