I was talking with an old friend on the phone last week and we began sharing things we were good at cooking. As I told her that I make a good chili, she asked me to share the recipe. I kindly replied that I would rather not.
A few days later, I checked a message on MySpace from a friend that had previously asked for the chili recipe. She said she really wanted the recipe and jokingly promised "I'll get it out of you one way or another." I am afraid not my friend.
Tonight, K Kid asked me for the recipe over the phone. She too was perplexed as to why I was not sharing.
I am NOT going to reveal the recipe. Why does everyone keep asking for it? Is it really that tasty? I think I have had better. I am honestly flattered, but you are not going to get it from me.
Lately, all I can think about it the next time I will see ASE. I know there are a lot of important dates and events coming up and I can't think of anything I would enjoy more than to share them with ASE. In my mind, I have mad plans to take Khen to see Christmast lights. But this is all in my mind.
I know now isn't the time for this at all. With my on-going project, I can't give the time and attention to things like this as they are needed. Am I am ready for ASE. Is ASE ready for me. Maybe it is time we met up again. Maybe the time isn't right (as it never really is).
I suppose some people want a good chili... Others just want it to be the right time...
Whatever it is, we only want that which we can not have.
"You can't have everything. Where would you put it?"- Stephen Wright
13.12.08
9.12.08
Straight from the Bible- Part 2
A few weeks ago, I asked my Sunday school class for God to give me patience and endurance. Who knew that that would be tested in more ways than one.
Being immobile and dependent on other has given me a new outlook on being able bodied. I had to depend on Pepe to take me to and from work. I had to depend on Devashree and Wiggs to help me prepare my lunch... prepare my lunch! I felt ridiculous. During this, I made up my mind that I was going to be walking on my own by Monday.
All weekend I worked hard in hopes that I could give Pepe a call and tell him that I would be driving myself to work (or even better, riding the train again). I spent all Friday night nursing my leg with warmth and massages. I spent Saturday testing my 'walking'. The big test came about 4pm when I had to test my driving skills. I passed that test (though not with flying colors). There was minimal pain so, I felt comfortable telling Pepe that I could take it from here.
I was so proud of myself as I drove in to work at my normal (early) time. I set up and got started on my tasks for the day. I was feeling great. That is, until about lunch time. I began to feel fatigue and pain in my leg. This time, the pain shot from my knee all the way to my heal. I tried to muster a smile as co-workers made comments like, "We still think you are faking", "Walk it off" and "Its just shin splints." I just told myself that there is no way they could know how much pain I was truly in.
Things got worse at about 2pm when the doctor's office called me to schedule more tests. I wanted to be able to tell them that I was healing nicely and there was no need. However my hope was clouded by reality. Then reality hit when I was told the cost and time it would take to perform the tests. I start freaking out. I don't like hospitals and I didn't want to have to pay for the tests. I scheduled them for Wednesday after work and sat sulking at my desk for the remainder of the day.
That evening, I was supposed to go to Margarita Ranch (right, me out... on a weekday) but chose to go home and wallow in self pity. I wouldn't say I threw a party, but my place was pretty miserable. Even watching Heroes did not bring me joy. I went to bed early in hopes that rest would turn my mood around.
I wake each morning with the same thing in mind. "Today is the day I walk." I am usually let down. This morning, however, was not complete disappointment. Basically, I was at a level at which I could get around if I had cane. Hope began to rear its head once more. I went to work feeling a bit more upbeat then the previous day. I still had the fear of more tests, but I tried to look past that.
It was not until I got home that my I truly felt major improvement. Walking to the kitchen from your bedroom with a small limp may not be much to the average person. However, to someone that yearns to run again, it means the world. At 7:30pm tonight, my hope was restored!
Though I am afraid, I will still have the tests performed tomorrow. But now, I hope that they show nothing but me healing properly. I don't care if it was shin splints, muscle strain or even a splinter. I just hope to be told that I am recovering properly and this will never be a problem again as long as I don't try the same thing again.
"... there has never been anything false about hope."- Barack Obama
7.12.08
Straight from the Bible- Part 1
The events of the past week can only be described as 'straight from the bible.' As I share these events, know that I am not exaggerating and no parts of the story are fabricated. I speak the truth my friends.
"For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." - Matthew 11:30
As it happened, I could not believe what was happening. Furthermore, I could not believe the pain. I was in around mile 6.5 of the 8 mile Turkey Trot when I began to have a bit of trouble. As my MP3 player blasted in my ears, I could not get the rhythm back into my stride. The race was at a loss. I limped to the side in pain as I tried to stretch my aching left leg.
Suddenly, the voice of P-Diddy rang out amongst the lyrics of Hate Me Now and I gained a bit more confidence. "You think I'ma come this far and let you stop me now?" I may have been in pain, but I have to finish this race. As I began running again, fellow runners [Aggies and Longhorns] shouted encouragement as they passed me approaching the races end. With this encouragement, there was no way I was going to walk across the finish line. With all of the sinew within me I finished the race! But, at what cost?
As I waited patiently for Greg and Dani at our meeting point, I found that I was quickly losing use of my left foot. I could no longer walk. When Greg and Dani finally found me, the three of us were astonished at my sudden immobility. With the roads blocked and us fatigued from the race, how were we going to get me to my vehicle and home to rest.
As we put our heads together a man in a burnt orange fleece appeared in the distance. He was about 6 feet tall around 50-60 years old and had an average/athletic build.
"Can I help you with anything?", he said.
"He can't walk and we are simply trying to see if we can move our car closer. Maybe we can get a policeman or paramedic to move one of these road blocks for us," was Dani's reply.
"Oh, I don't know if they will do that, but I will help you." He began to come closer as though he was sizing my weight.
"Oh sir, that's okay I think we can figure something out, but thank you."
"It's no trouble. Hop on." As I looked, the man got on his hands and knees to allow me to get on his back.
"You're kidding, right?" was the only response I could give as I looked on in disbelief.
"No, come on. How far is it?" he asked.
"I think I am not sure how far it is, but it is was a nice walk on the way here." Greg replied.
"Well, I will take you as far as I can."
As far as he could turned out to be about 5 blocks on his back, with no breaks. As we walked (or as I rode), it dawned on me that I did not know this man from Adam. I politely introduced myself, but he never told us his name. As we walked, we were greeted by people that seemed to know him, as he stopped at time (without putting me down) to exchange pleasantries. As we passed one young lady, he shouted a few things to her as she looked peculiarly at him as though she was verifying his identity. Afterwards he said, "Oh, that was my daughter. I bet you thought she was going to say, 'Dad did you know there is a black man on your back?'
As we reached the last block, he kindly leaned me against a street sign and wished us a Happy Thanksgiving. I thanked him and tried to find words to say to this anonymous man that performed such a random act of kindness. As I did not have my wallet, I was brainstorming something to give him. I bowed my head in humility as Dani and I tried to express how grateful we were. Finding the right words was becoming very difficult. As I looked up, he was already walking away.
"For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." - Matthew 11:30
As it happened, I could not believe what was happening. Furthermore, I could not believe the pain. I was in around mile 6.5 of the 8 mile Turkey Trot when I began to have a bit of trouble. As my MP3 player blasted in my ears, I could not get the rhythm back into my stride. The race was at a loss. I limped to the side in pain as I tried to stretch my aching left leg.
Suddenly, the voice of P-Diddy rang out amongst the lyrics of Hate Me Now and I gained a bit more confidence. "You think I'ma come this far and let you stop me now?" I may have been in pain, but I have to finish this race. As I began running again, fellow runners [Aggies and Longhorns] shouted encouragement as they passed me approaching the races end. With this encouragement, there was no way I was going to walk across the finish line. With all of the sinew within me I finished the race! But, at what cost?
As I waited patiently for Greg and Dani at our meeting point, I found that I was quickly losing use of my left foot. I could no longer walk. When Greg and Dani finally found me, the three of us were astonished at my sudden immobility. With the roads blocked and us fatigued from the race, how were we going to get me to my vehicle and home to rest.
As we put our heads together a man in a burnt orange fleece appeared in the distance. He was about 6 feet tall around 50-60 years old and had an average/athletic build.
"Can I help you with anything?", he said.
"He can't walk and we are simply trying to see if we can move our car closer. Maybe we can get a policeman or paramedic to move one of these road blocks for us," was Dani's reply.
"Oh, I don't know if they will do that, but I will help you." He began to come closer as though he was sizing my weight.
"Oh sir, that's okay I think we can figure something out, but thank you."
"It's no trouble. Hop on." As I looked, the man got on his hands and knees to allow me to get on his back.
"You're kidding, right?" was the only response I could give as I looked on in disbelief.
"No, come on. How far is it?" he asked.
"I think I am not sure how far it is, but it is was a nice walk on the way here." Greg replied.
"Well, I will take you as far as I can."
As far as he could turned out to be about 5 blocks on his back, with no breaks. As we walked (or as I rode), it dawned on me that I did not know this man from Adam. I politely introduced myself, but he never told us his name. As we walked, we were greeted by people that seemed to know him, as he stopped at time (without putting me down) to exchange pleasantries. As we passed one young lady, he shouted a few things to her as she looked peculiarly at him as though she was verifying his identity. Afterwards he said, "Oh, that was my daughter. I bet you thought she was going to say, 'Dad did you know there is a black man on your back?'
As we reached the last block, he kindly leaned me against a street sign and wished us a Happy Thanksgiving. I thanked him and tried to find words to say to this anonymous man that performed such a random act of kindness. As I did not have my wallet, I was brainstorming something to give him. I bowed my head in humility as Dani and I tried to express how grateful we were. Finding the right words was becoming very difficult. As I looked up, he was already walking away.
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