Time - Part Deux

I received a message from my brother-in-law yesterday. Which means he is home. Safe. A welcome relief always.

Beyond the safe return of one of my best friends, my brother, this also marks a changing of the guard, if you will. This morning, I went to my armoire, pulled out a different watch, wiped off the dust and briefly shook it to wind it up.

Wearing a watch has become a daily routine. Losing my watch, asking the kids where it may be and finding it is all part of said routine. Often, the conversation with Emi is simply, "Emi, have you seen my black watch?" The answer is almost always, "Yes, I put it somewhere safe."

The safe place often changes. But my watch is almost always there. Sometimes the watches go missing for a bit longer only to show up in a sock drawer months down the road. It's all part of the fun.

While I was in Boston, my dear friend Fibby asked about the watch on my wrist. Commented that she had not seen it before. It made me smile before I answered.

It was quite some time ago that I wrote this post regarding my new watch. I still have this watch. I still wear it every game day when I have to put on a suit. There are several watches in my armoire now. Each one tells a story, has a purpose, each may even be a talisman. I'll save most of those stories for another time and simply tell the story of two.

There is a silver Seiko I have which is part of a set purchased for all the men in my family several Christmases ago. Each of us have the same watch. Hopefully, it gives each of us a connection every morning when we wake up and put on our watch...that each of us is doing the same thing at one moment, even thousands of miles apart. This Seiko connection goes further back to my Grandfather, my Dad's Dad, as he had a gold Seiko he wore every day.

This is the watch I pulled out this morning. Dusted off. Wound up. Reset. With thoughts of my father, my two brothers and my Grandfather. But it isn't the watch Fibby had asked about in Boston.

The watch I was wearing in Boston was a gift to me from my brother-in-law who so recently returned. It is a watch he was given, a gift from the army during a competition. When he generously handed it to me, I began wearing whenever I rode his motorcycle, since, in my mind, the two seemed to go together. When I purchased my bike, I continued to wear his watch whenever I climbed on the bike. It just seemed right. Whether it is a good luck thing or purely a habit, it is certainly a talisman.

And then, when he deployed, I began wearing it every day. As a reminder of his service to our country. As a reminder that our country is still fighting a war abroad. As a reminder that he is in harm's way.

But he is back now. His watch goes into my armoire, only to be pulled out for motorcycle rides. And I wear a reminder of my family on my wrist.

Spirits

I worked with my big brother last night. We shared some laughs, some frustrations and shared of our spirits after the games were over. As we talked, Butch asked an interesting question.

"Do you still see him?"

I was not quite sure what he meant initially. Was I having nightmares? Was there a vision burned into my memory? But a few seconds later, I got it. Was Anthony visiting me. I realized I have seen Anthony recently. Or...not so much seen him as heard him.

I have never been particularly religious and I generally don't give a great deal of thought to the afterlife but I have always considered myself at least mildly spiritual. And that is exactly what my previous post was about...though I didn't realize it at the time.

Anthony has been at my side twice now. Joking with me. Singing to me. Laughing and smiling. Letting me know that all is well. He is opening my eyes to my own humanity and spirituality. And there is no way I can thank him enough for that.

I owe Butch, too. He has been my guide through all of this, helping me to understand the communication that is coming to me.

And this reminds me of how blessed and lucky I have been in the past. My Grandfather, years after he passed away, came to visit me and Hope in a dream one night. This dream is from 2 years ago but it is still vivid in my memory. He sat in our kitchen, patiently waiting to head out for lunch somewhere in town, as if no time had passed since I was a child. He was there to say hi, to check in on me. And I know he'll visit again to check in on little Emiko.

Anthony, I'm learning. I'm learning that you can still talk to all of us. We simply need to open our ears and listen. Godspeed and ride on!

NYC Baby! Part Deux

Walking into the the Duane Street Hotel on Saturday (a very nice place to stay, by the way), I was confronted by the concierge who asked, "Was your brother just in here?"

I laughed and asked, "Would you say my twin brother, perhaps".

With an affirmative reply from him, we chalked up a third twins question for the weekend. I promptly texted Jefe and he spiraled ever further downward.

Woo hoo!

NYC baby!

I've been accused of many things. But yesterday I had a first (and a second) and then another first.

While at cousin David's wonderful reception after his wedding at City Hall (which was an absolute blast), I was accused of having a twin brother. Which made me laugh and left Jeff nonplussed. Later that evening, Jeff, Dad and I went out for a late night pizza. And once again, Jeff and I were accused of being twin brothers. When I laughed and said no, she immediately asked if Jeff was the oldest brother!
Jeff is now wandering around in a funk and no longer wants to be seen in public with me.