The Difference Between Pizza and Ice Cream

In the fall of 2003, I made a near-cross country road trip with my two small children, my mom, and step-dad.  We travelled from Uncle Bobby's house in Alameda, California all the way to Lawton, Oklahoma which would be our home for at least the next 9 months.  Before I left Hawaii that summer, I picked up three remarkable cds that have been my steady companions ever since-- Go Jimmy Go's "Soul Arrival", Jack Johnson's "On and On", and Pepper's "Kona Town".  (For the record, I also bought Natural Vibes' "The Circle" that summer, too, and listened to it almost incessantly on the road trip)

It's hard now to look back on those days in Oklahoma without also associating them with that soundtrack.  I can see myself driving to pick up Noah at pre-school and listening to "Stormtrooper" on the way.  I remember listening to even more Pepper on the drive home from anywhere, driving past the Electric Cowboy, the car wash, and the drive-through smoke shop, singing, "I don't mind taking lives I find..."

And though one of our neighbors in OK had become close friends of mine from our time spent in Washington state, and though one of Matt's cohorts was married to a Filipino woman from Hawaii, I felt incredibly lonely and alone.  I grew to rely heavily on Jenna and May for support and companionship.  The goodness of Clay and Garth helped me to keep sight of myself.  And Chris gave me a gift that, had it not been given, may not have readied me to ultimately leave my marriage.

So when I hear anything from my soundtrack of the fall of 2003, I think of them.  But I do not think of May's unfortunate (but totally predictable) betrayal, and I certainly don't dwell on the all-encompassing cloud of uncertainty and deceit.  I remember that at that time, Chris was alive and the world held at least one more decent and loving person.  The world-- MY world, especially-- was better because people like Chris were a part of it. People like Jenna and Clay and Garth and Kevin.

Thinking of Chris and his untimely passing inevitably makes me sad.  I still miss him and I still sometimes cry.  But sometimes I get lucky as I was today.  Sometimes I will hear a song from that time and it will make me happy.  It will make me joyful that there was a time at all, however brief, when Chris was alive and he was also happy.  It reminds me of how thankful I am to have found that pocket of joy in such an unhappy place.  How blessed I was to have such a strong support group-- not only to bolster my strength and resolve, but to challenge me to be a better person for it.

All of which leads to exactly where I am today.  And though I wish with all my heart that Chris hadn't died, I do not regret my world for it.