It was a lovely spring weekend, a week or two before Mother’s Day as I recall. My original plan was to vegg out and be a total waste of space, but, as we’re told in the 19th chapter of Proverbs, “there are many plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails”, so when my neighbor texted me I was persuaded to pivot. There is an indoor flea market just down the road that’s open only on weekends, and we’d been there once before. I wasn’t particularly enamored, but he wanted to see if they still had a certain item. Before long, off we went to The Swap Meet, and as I was driving I realized that there was indeed a purpose for the task other than being a benevolent neighbor.
For Christmas my father had gotten each of us a leather keychain with our name engraved. Nothing fancy or extravagant, but practical with a personal touch. Both my sister & I had grown beyond focusing on Christmas gifts as a big deal, and my nephews are fully grown adults. I’m a gift card guy, because I just don’t enjoy the hustle & bustle of the whole retail scene as much as I used to, and, like my Dad, I tend to lean toward pragmatism. Truth be told, Christmas hadn’t been the same for DaLynn, Dad, or myself since Mom passed more than two decades ago. In recent years we’d actually gone out to eat for Christmas a few times, but it’s tough to find a place open on the actual day unless you really like Chinese food. At any rate, my nephews were insistent that we not go out this time. They wanted to gather at their mother’s place and volunteered to cook. It would be the last time all of us were together, atleast under positive circumstances.
My sister had been in poor health for several years. She was immunocompromised, and when the world was brought to its knees by The Pandemic, she had to exercise caution. Once upon a time DaLynn had been a person always on the go, but that changed. To say she rarely felt good would be an understatement. We talked & texted almost daily, but didn’t have the opportunity to be together as often the past several years. Having said that, though I valued those infrequent gatherings, I always presumed there’d be many more. If the thought of my “golden years” shuffled fleetingly thru my mind she was there. Of course she’d be there. We’d be texting, talking, and celebrating Christmas in one way or another when we were grey & wrinkly. There are many plans in a man’s heart, right??
Events unfolded rapidly in the new year. DaLynn never felt great, but this was different and she knew it. She went to a doctor and did all the things. She fought it…hard. Eventually though she had to call EMS and be transported to the hospital. Her oxygen was dangerously low. Covid/Pneumonia. The medical team threw everything at the situation they possibly could. My nephews stayed at the hospital night & day. My Dad & I were there as much as possible. She did NOT want to be put on a ventilator, but there simply was no choice. Sadly, all efforts were in vain, and two weeks before her 54th birthday, the five of us were once again together, but it was a much different situation. For the first time in my life I witnessed a person take their final breath. And not just any person. She was the person who knew me best. The person with whom I could share my darkest thoughts, or laugh with about things that only we understood. The person who I could talk to about everything & nothing. The person who knew when I needed understanding & encouragement, or a slap upside the head. The only person other than my parents who knew me my entire life. And now, just a few weeks after that lovely Christmas Day, she was gone.
As the events that typically follow a person’s departure from this realm came & went and the world began to move forward, Dad & the nephews went to DaLynn’s humble abode to gather her belongings. I knew I’d only be in the way and left them to complete the task. They asked me about a few items that I might want, and I did end up taking some stuff, but the only thing I specifically requested was the keychain that had been my father’s Christmas gift. Why?? I don’t really know. Perhaps I thought that seeing her name every day would make me feel close to her. I suppose it is a sort of talisman, although I fully realize it has no magic powers and had no expectations that it’d bring me good fortune. Sometimes an explanation isn’t necessary. Sadly, whether it happened at her apartment or occurred between transporting it from her place to my nephew’s house then eventually into my hands, the keychain suffered water damage. If you’ve observed such misfortune with leather you understand. If you haven’t, I’ll just say that it isn’t pretty.
I am tempted to say that I was devastated, but let’s be honest…the devastation had occurred much earlier in that hospital room. The ruination of the keychain was a spinoff that stirred emotions, like shaking a can of soda. I immediately began researching methods of repair, and probably spent more money on a jar of restorative salve than the keychain originally cost. It helped a little bit, but the engraved name remained barely legible. Not long after that, I found myself driving to The Swap Meet instead of staying in as I had intended. There are many plans in a man’s heart.
That’s when the realization happened. I remembered that there was a Leather Guy at The Swap Meet that sold & engraved such items. Maybe he could help…if he was there. This is the kind of place that might have different vendors each week, and it had been awhile. Thankfully he was there, and I showed him the key chain. As it turns out, one method of repairing water damaged leather is…more water. Who knew?? He also told me that he could fix the lettering…kind of. He didn’t have the exact tool needed, but he could get close. Or…or…he could fix it almost perfectly, depending on how much time I had. Now I would have been willing to stay there all day. Maybe even hang out at this man’s house if that’s what it took. As it turns out, he wanted to know if I could stick around for 45 minutes while he meticulously traced the lettering. Those terms were more than acceptable.
While he was doing the work I wandered around and landed at a table selling peanut butter fudge, engaging in a delightful conversation with the two ladies there. They asked me what Leather Guy was doing for me and I told them the story. It is likely that I overshared (sort of like I am right now), but we had quite the little chat about death and losing loved ones. I certainly didn’t see that coming. I absolutely don’t need to be consuming fudge, but bought some anyway. There are many plans in a man’s heart.
The gentleman sought me out when he was finished, and it was…overwhelming. There are three rooms at The Swap Meet, the last one being the smallest. After paying him far less than he deserved for what he’d just done, I found myself in that third room alone. It wasn’t the first time I had cried. For awhile, gentle weeping or even outright sobbing was a nightly occurrence for me, but I was usually home alone. I don’t fully understand why my sister’s death feels like it hit me harder than Mom’s 20+ years earlier, but I have formed an opinion or two. I had alot more going on back then. I was busier. I was involved in things. There were more distractions. Now, I have too much time to think. Perhaps it isn’t uncommon to be more emotional as we grow older. Or maybe I just understand loss on a deeper level than I did in those days. Sometimes things defy explanation. I didn’t want to be sitting there at an indoor flea market with tears running down my face, but…there are many plans in a man’s heart.
Time does indeed fly, and I can’t quite wrap my head around DaLynn being gone for a full year. Like most people, I have photos. I have old texts that I’ll never erase. Much to my dismay, because we texted so much and I always made myself available to talk when she could, I do not have any voicemails. Believe me, I have searched my phone in futility on multiple occasions, desperate to hear her voice again. And I have the keychain. A meaningless trinket?? For most people, sure. When I look at it though, I am reminded of her. I am able to recall a lifetime of memories. Family gatherings. Silly disagreements & epic fights. Birthday parties, graduations, and church youth events. Sitting around the dinner table, watching the big ol’ TV in our living room, and playing Atari in her room. Washing dishes after supper. Holding my newborn nephews after their arrivals and watching her be a good Mom by being a rather impressive facsimile of the mother that we grieved together. Sharing secrets and talking about things that no one else ever knew. Laughter, tears, and everything in between.
She is gone…physically, and we continue to deal with that daily. A piece of my soul will be missing forever. However, what she left behind remains. Her sons. Those memories. And the keychain. I didn’t think I’d be going out that day, yet…there are many plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.
compete in one herself. The family treks 800 miles from 
eggnog, and mistletoe. You’ll see several of those on this list, and one of the oldest is Miracle on 34th Street. Made in 1947, in a post-war era that wanted feel good stories and laughter, it’s the story of a department store Santa who is put on trial to prove whether or not he is real. In a bit of prescient marketing, the film opens with Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, which is now thought of as the official kickoff to the Christmas season. Santa charms most of his co-workers, but he sets his sights on a skeptical single Mom and her unbelieving, precocious young daughter. No details are ever given as to why Mom is single or the reasons for her cynicism, but one can assume that she was hurt badly by a man. Santa is joined by a friendly lawyer who has a thing for Mom, which comes in handy when Ol’ Saint Nick runs up against the legal system. I am quite sure that anyone over the age of 30 has seen Miracle on 34th Street. I do worry that younger generations may not fully embrace its greatness since it isn’t shown on TV as much these days. Not that long ago it was shown on NBC immediately following the Macy’s parade, which seemed appropriate. Now NBC airs a dog show. Movie channels like AMC and TCM still show Miracle, but not as much as one may think. In 1994 a remake was made, and it isn’t bad as far as remakes go. Macy’s refused to participate and Gimbel’s was already out of business, so two fictional stores are substituted. Other small changes are made to the plot, but overall it stays fairly faithful to the original and is rather likeable. Still though, it is almost always my stance that the original is better than a remake and I hope that in this case we never stop watching the 1947 classic…in black and white. There is a colorized version, but colorization of black and white films is just so wrong, plus they usually give me a headache.
cannot be forced or planned…the magic just happens. It is my personal opinion that Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are one of those magical duos. 1998’s You’ve Got Mail was their third movie together, and is kind of a remake of the 1940 Jimmy Stewart vehicle The Shop Around the Corner. I wouldn’t consider it a true remake, as it is significantly updated to include modern technology…e-mail and chat rooms play a key role and the title itself is borrowed from AOL’s well known welcome to customers signing in to their account. But the basic premise is still there…two lonely people anonymously corresponding and falling in love in the process, all while they are totally unaware that they know each other in real life. This update folds in the concept of competing bookstores, which is likely a big factor in its likeability for me. Greg Kinnear, Parker Posey, Jean Stapleton, and John Randolph have amusing supporting roles, and that is a key ingredient in any great film. Like any tasty recipe the flavors have to maintain a delicate balance. You’ve Got Mail seems to pop up on television a lot, and I must confess that I will generally watch unless I am really busy, which is rare. Further Hanks/Ryan pairings seem unlikely…they are both getting older and Meg Ryan has paid a few too many visits to her friendly neighborhood Botox provider…but we shall savor the goodness they’ve provided for us for many years to come.
childlike performances. But that irreverent immaturity works perfectly in this movie. As the story goes, an orphaned baby crawls into Santa’s sack on Christmas Eve and ends up living at the North Pole. After three decades of being raised as an elf, Buddy faces the harsh reality that he is actually not one at all and sets off… passing “through the seven levels of the Candy Cane Forest, through the sea of swirly twirly gum drops, and then through the Lincoln Tunnel”…for New York City to find his real Dad, a book publisher who is on Santa’s Naughty List. It’s a fun twist on the standard fish-out-of-water tale, as Buddy’s innocent elfish behavior befuddles those around him while at the same time making us, the audience, crack up laughing. Buddy does things like chew old gum that people have stuck under tables, eat pasta covered in syrup, and burst into a diner with the moniker “World’s Best Cup of Coffee” congratulating them enthusiastically on their accomplishment. He eventually finds his crusty Dad, played by James Caan, and somehow stumbles into Gimbel’s (which was actually defunct by 2003, but we won’t quibble) where he is mistaken for an employee. He eventually gets fired after hysterically attacking a faux Santa (“You stink. You smell like beef and cheese! You don’t smell like Santa.”), but not before becoming enamored with the lovely Jovie, with whom he develops a relationship. The climax involves the real Santa, Christmas caroling in Central Park, and Buddy’s family & friends uniting to save Christmas. It’s all very silly, very harmless, and a lot of fun. I don’t think it is farfetched to assume that Elf will undoubtedly take its rightful place alongside A Christmas Carol, It’s A Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, and others in the pantheon of beloved holiday films…if it hasn’t already.
The Manofesto 