Usually, I find myself at company-sponsored leisure activities trying to figure out what I’m doing at company-sponsored leisure activities and why I’m thinking about why I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing at company-sponsored leisure activities, giving my thoughts an exercise in wondering, thinking and trying, but not always in that order.
Today, while just on the verge of creating an internal structure in the shape of mantra made of the above thoughts, up walked beside me a man named Bill.
I don’t know Bill well. I know of him by reputation and through appearances at his company-sponsored leisure activities, he being a co-founder of the company that sponsored today’s leisure activities.
Bill is an honest man whom I trust implicitly and explicitly, without question.
As a member of the board of directors of his company, Bill is used to being in the public eye.
His health is as important to the company as it is to his family and him.
I looked at Bill’s face this morning, noticing that there seemed to be more blood flowing through his system — his face was redder than it was at the Christmas party but something else about his face concerned me.
His complexion was not as healthy-looking as it had been several weeks back at an American Heart Association walk sponsored in part by his company.
Turns out that Bill had subsequently suffered a viral infection and spent several days in the hospital to get his temperature back near normal after he had worked with a pile of mulch in his yard.
I could write several blog posts about the value of mulch. In fact, my wife and I used to volunteer at the Huntsville Botanical Garden on Saturday mornings to collect monetary donations in exchange for loads of mulch dumped in the back of truck beds and small trailers, the mulch mainly composed of decomposed leaves and twigs scooped up alongside roadways after having been raked to the curb by homeowners in autumn.
Mulch and humus (not hummus (or humour (or vapors (or femurs)))) are valuable components of one’s garden.
One may wish to set up a mulch or compost pile that includes not only leaves and twigs but also kitchen scraps and other organic material.
Bill was not overly concerned about mulch’s benefits.
No, he had apparently picked up a virus that had hitched a ride in a pile of mulch and was wreaking (and reeking) havoc on his body.
Keep in mind that Bill had quadruple-bypass surgery not that long ago. Within four days of the surgery, he could walk several miles so he’s not all that out of shape.
Bill looked me in the eye.
There was something more he wanted to share with me.
Bill pulled out his mobile phone and showed pictures of his new acquisition, a 1959 Corvette.
Instantly envious, despite initially thinking it was a Thunderbird, I leaned closer toward him. What was so special about this car to Bill that he wanted to show the pictures to a complete stranger?
Bill said he had always wanted a Corvette.
Of course, our material dreams are often displaced by other priorities.
As Bill pointed out, the year after the last of his kids finished college, he put a swimming in his yard, along with deck. He invited the kids over and asked them what they saw. They saw a pool. He corrected them — this was what their annual college tuition had been costing him and now he was spending it on something he and his now fully empty-nested wife wanted.
Of course, it was an investment the kids could enjoy, too.
Of course, of course.
But Bill still desired the Corvette.
Before he went in for the bypass surgery, Bill told his wife, “When I get out of this surgery, I’m going to buy myself a Corvette,” in part to give himself something positive to look forward to after such an ordeal, not really meaning it as much.
Well, his wife held him to his word, making sure he had recovered enough from the surgery to remind him of his promise to himself.
Bill found the Corvette online, located physically not far away in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.
The car is not perfect, has been repainted and needs TLC — the soft top seal should be replaced, for instance.
At a distance, however, it looks brand-new.
Bill has a way to go to achieve the level of post-surgery health that will ensure he lives many years longer.
Unfortunately, the viral infection and hospital stay delayed his planned physical rehabilitation.
Bill’s honesty with others reaches his inner self, where he knows that he has neglected his bodily needs in order to sacrifice himself for the greater good, for the bigger community outside his immediate family and inner circle of influence.
For Bill, now is his time, time to devote to his wife and himself, to spend some selfish moments reaping the rewards of years of success and hard work.
Our lives are shorter than we think they will be.
Bill, you deserve these moments of happiness, of less stress, of giving your trust to the employees who continue the legacy you started.
Your Corvette and your Austin Healey 3000 kit with 350CI Chevy engine are ready for your full attention and fun-filled driving adventures.
Enjoy the open road, see the sites, revisit old hangouts and come back with tall tales about your new friends.
We’ll be here, waiting with virtual pen and ink in hand.
To your health, whatever you choose to do about it!
treetrunkdings 