Bearded Gang

Brevard is one of my favorite towns on this globe. Eclectic downtown, great local food and the Pisgah Tavern (The Hub) is a spot I stop into every time I’m here. Oskar Blues food truck spatulas an awesome burger. I’ve hiked Looking Glass Rock about 3 dozen times, John’s rock a couple and I’m never going to hike the entire Art Loeb trail but it’s here too. Art Loeb sounds like a 50’s game show host.

“And here’s your host for the Hollywood Bean Bag toss it’s Aaaart Loeeeeb”

I’m not hiking all that shit but I hear it’s nice.

Love Brevard, just wish everyone didn’t drive 14 miles under the speed limit.

Davidson Campground is pretty well known for a good camping spot. River runs right beside the camp and it’s spacious. If I’m going to use a campground I’m definitely going to stay here. While I do enjoy the freedom of dispersed camping and Brevard has a handful of them, I don’t enjoy the smell of meth while I try to enjoy my morning coffee. I’m not saying those spots are filled with meth heads all the time just some of the time. It can be sketch.

But

I’ve never heard of any incidents. I’m not judging here folks but I wouldn’t allow my daughter to camp there so that should tell you enough. Theres some spots here and there off the gravel government road if you can find them

It’s 59° and I can’t tell if it’s drizzling or the treetop winds are shaking the last of the hurricane droplets formerly known as Isaias. On occasion a small twig falls on my roof to let me know that I need to stay on my toes with all the loose deadfall playing target practice. We take fallen branches for granted. Most trees don’t wait for you to get out of the way when they’re shedding. It’s one of the reasons I talk and hug the surrounding trees in my camp.

“Hey I’m your friend. Love ya! Don’t crack my head open please”

That’s not exactly correct I actually talk to them in a formal manner. I also let them know my fire will only be made with fallen wood and used to keep me warm and cook my food. I keep my fires small so I don’t needlessly heat the branches above me. The trees appreciate that. They’ve told me so. I sat under one yesterday with my back against it and did nothing for about half an hour.

Highly recommend.

I enjoy making little vlogs out here. Sometimes I’ll put my phone in little nooks and crannies with some new camera angles for some action shots all the while trying not to look like an asshat as I candidly pretend I’m not recording myself. Oh I’m fully aware that I’ve made fun of influencers for years and here I am using their techniques.

Come at me bro I don’t care, I’m not trying to collab with anyone yall I just like making myself look ridiculous on camera. Also now when I watch a movie my mind automatically goes to camera POVs and I’m like “ooh imma try that”

Brought my mountain bike with me. If I’ve been disappointed with any activity I’ve lost interest in it would be cycling. I used to be a cycling maniac. Shaved legs, head to toe coordinated spandex, colorful shirts that expressed cycling mania.

Wore Lance Armstrong underwear along with matching bracelet. Then Lance just became Lance. Yeah I know most of the pro cyclists juice but Lance was the most vehement about not using. Even threatening. Careful the words you use against people doing the same exact thing you did.

That’s all

I just stopped cycling. Maybe it’s the walking now, journaling (like this) is a long morning activity that takes up quite a bit of time if I go on a rant.

I used to cycle about 150 miles a week. I haven’t cycled 150 miles in the last year and a half. One major factor is the online hate cyclists have nowadays. I don’t feel comfortable riding my bike on the road anymore. Cyclists have a bad reputation for being dicks. They get it right most of the time even when I rode in packs I wasn’t a fan of most of the surrounding cyclists. They’re pompous. Not all. Just most.

Anyway I’m riding my bike today..

Gravel ride.

I’ve actually gotten into a fist fight with two guys while riding my bike. That’s a story for another day.

And yes I won.

Never pick a fight with a guy who just broke up with his girlfriend.

Where was I?

Oh yes. I like it up here. I could live here but too many hippies. I’m kidding. Sorta. There’s a direct correlation to the number of bumper stickers on the back window of a car and how slow they drive.

Maybe it’s the weight of the stickers? Maybe it’s because they can no longer see out of the back window?

“Coexist”

I will if you speed the fuck up.

I’m getting better with slowing things down y’all. I promise. The last person to beckon me out of my car for a road rage fight was an old hippie in Flat Rock.

You good Jerry? I’m sorry for riding your bumper I didn’t want you to roll backward while driving .03 mph on a straight open highway. Turn Sugar Magnolia down, the patchouli air freshener is making you angry.

How did this turn into little bites of violence.

Sorry this isn’t my regular coffee brand. In the 70s this would cause fights. Not the breakdancing kind that was the 80s

70’s- Kung fu

80’s- Breakdancing

90’s- Mosh pits

Current? We just get on social media and talk shit murkily. Like bathroom wall graffiti linked consciousness.

I’m gonna ride my bike up a gravelly hill. For some reason I’m also craving a bo biscuit which I haven’t had in years.

12:30 a got Buck the sailor man making some art on my quad. It’s just a tattoo y’all.

Tis a good day in the making. A good day indeed.

A part of me was put away for good yesterday. Another part was released.

Those two combined brought me something in return. Something I’m meant to deal with and absorb. I can already feel its presence. This is how life gives and takes.

A reckoning of grief brings a new perspective. What you do with it will be how you carry it for the rest of your life.

I witnessed a life of love, happiness and devotion.

*stamps it hard

I’ve been ok for the last two weeks. At 6:30 last night after my post about my sister’s funeral the faucets opened. It finally released.

Dinner had just arrived. I ate it cold.

I spent the evening with my little party of three (including me) on the sofa in our little living room. We have one big sectional that we will all three lounge on in our most comfortable of clothes. Oftentimes our two cats will take a corner or the little one will sit under the blanket with Lily. It has a very odd attachment to my kid.

Who can blame it?

When we are all on the sofa I can physically feel the energy of love in the room.

The comfort

Warmth

Closeness

I cannot imagine a life that’s not this. And never do I want to

That’s all.

Let’s coast for a moment..

Take me back to the night we met – Lord Huron is on my headphones. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

Hey that fucking storm was fun wasn’t it?

Unbothered by nature < grief

You get really sleepy when dealing with grief. It’s weird.

Man if the sun shows its face today or if the storm at least takes a break I’m gonna tailgate in the mountains.

I’m not running from my grief I’m celebrating life.

Don’t think the river seat plopping will be available today let’s not end up in the gulf here Gangwer.

Just need some quiet time on my tailgate to ponder. Because this has been a week to ponder.

Humor moment, my sister was cremated and placed into an urn. She and her husband have a plot side by side in a beautiful little garden. My sister was always a planner. The ceremony after the funeral was to witness her placement into the hollowed cemented breach in the ground. Urn goes into the hole and a plaque is placed over it and screwed into the display.

It’s raining sideways. We are all grieving but at the same time we are getting pelted with spray like Forrest Gump in the Vietnam rivers. The individual the funeral home had available to screw the plaque in the ground had some shaky hands. Really bad shaky hands.

As we stood solemnly with our umbrellas blowing sideways, faces filled with grief, tears and red cheeks from the sheer water pressure of the rain, the man struggling to hold the screws between his fingers and to add to it all he had a screwdriver the size of a action figure’s finger. I turned to my wife with my glasses covered in rain and smiled. She knew I was finding the humor in all its ridiculousness at that moment.

I almost reached down to steady his hand. It looked like something out of a Farrelly brothers movie. A power drill would’ve ruined the moment I suppose.

Humor is my pressure valve yall.

Yeah I think I’m gonna tailgate.

Later gators

My phone autocorrected to Thoth’s instead of Thoughts for moment and I chuckled. Well good morning Thoth how are you today? Two years ago I would’ve thought that name was the planet on Empire Strikes Back.

Completely lost my train of thought now.

Seriously just went brain dead

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep_________________

Saw a random video on TikTok last night about Maine and fought with myself over driving back up there before the first winter storm hit up there. Really want to finish the golden road. I could squeeze a five day trip. Lotta driving. Lot of energy spent.

*sighs

I’m not going to say I’ve ruined myself from nonstop camping quests

But

Watch me pull my arm hairs out if I’m at home for too long.

Our last home has a nice screened in porch in the back the cats would go out there all day. You’d have to drag them back inside by evening time. Our new abode doesn’t have that option and the cats don’t understand. They keep asking to go out to their spot and it breaks my heart. Catio? Yeah maybe.

My point was I get it kitties. Once you know what freedom is like, confinement is painful.

I’m catering my sister’s funeral this morning. I also managed to find a suitable suit that I can piece together in my closet. I won’t be on a GQ mag but it’ll do. I won’t look wrinkly for my sister’s farewell. It’s important to me.

I’ll see some faces I haven’t seen in a while. Funeral small talk is painful I won’t be around long for it.

Man I really lost my subject line this morning. Usually once I start writing it comes back. Today not so much

Maybe I’m not required to write today. I get that

I need to though. My mind needs to stretch outward not inward today.

My music is not pairing with my mood either. Hold please. Pearl Jam ain’t working

Shaking the eight ball in my head 🎱

I’ve got a tattoo appointment Monday to get my leg colored in. I found a framed print on Facebook marketplace I thought was chic. It’s a cowboy riding a horse into the desert with a ufo floating above them and I had it redone in a tattoo form. Sent it to my tattoo guy I haven’t seen in 5 years and here we are.

“Where did you get that idea did a tattoo?” – Facebook marketplace.

I lost interest in tattoos for a while it would seem that when I left the restaurant industry my taste in tattoos went away. Or it was the alcohol but that doesn’t fit. One day recently my mind said “a leg sleeve would be nice”

So here we are. And we gotta a long way to go. I’m on number two of I have no clue how many it will take

Got new glasses too. They’re that clear look everyone is into now. My prescription safety goggles 🥽

I dig em

Anyone remember the Sugar Smacks cereal commercial. Just a damned ole cartoon frog slapping fives with kids.

Dig ’em, smack ’em, sugar smacks, give me a smack and I’ll smack you back” 🐸 🧢 🤚🏼

An animated anthropomorphic with a baseball cap sponsoring childhood diabetes.

“I dig em!”

Cereal had personality in 70s and 80s. My head is filled with dozens on commercial tunes about breakfast.

“Honeycombs big yeah yeah yeah! It’s not small! No no no!”…

I had not intended in writing any of this.

I pick one morning out of the week where I don’t do any of my morning rituals. No meditation, stretching, workout or walks. Nothing done with any spiritual intention. Even these things need a day off. Today is one of these days.

Also

That was the initial subject of my post this morning. So I found it but now I don’t want to pursue it.

Are yall asleep yet?

Even I’m getting drowsy reading this.

I think this is a good stopping point. Better luck tomorrow.

I got a Freewrite keyboard not too long ago that I’ve been struggling with. It’s a great tool for writing without distractions but I’m struggling with the display screen. I find myself scrolling around the little screen looking for infractions more than I actually type. It’s annoying me. It’s not the Freewrite thing it’s a me thing. I think writing from my phone this entire time has changed the way I can write. Two weeks writing on the Freewrite and I haven’t finished a chapter. Maybe I can blend my Jetpack writing with my Freewrite. I don’t want to discard the typewriter but I’m getting frustrated with myself. Yeah I’m trying to write a little fiction to exercise my mind but my energy is being consumed by scrolling around the tiny screen looking to find my last thought.

I’m not giving up yet but today was a Freewrite day and here I am typing on my phone instead.

I have my sister’s funeral tomorrow it’s been years since I’ve gone to one. As I sit here I just realized I never got my suit dry cleaned so …. fuck me. Wardrobe has not been on my mind. I inserted myself in to do the food for after and that’s all my mind has been on other than the event itself. This grief period has been slow and hard.

Grief bleeds like molasses sometimes.

See? I’m supposed to be writing fiction this morning.

Work has been a drone existence lately. I’m there but I’m not. Some of it’s my sister while another part is me struggling with “what’s next?”

I’m looking for my step pep. It’s hiding from me. Seriously doubt my weekly dose of camping will be available this weekend with Hurricane something with an I approaching. It’s odd how excited meteorologists get when hurricanes come to shore.

I think that’s why they annoy me. That and when it does rain I always feel like the meteorologist had a hand in it. I know they don’t but I like putting a face on things that piss me off.

Lotta faces out there

But

Not as many as there used to be

I got a diesel heater for the colder months up ahead. I’m excited about the 60 clamps, hoses and pipes it came with. Should be a fun time putting together my mini camping HVAC project. *sarcasm drips out

I’m not an assembler y’all. My parents would buy my ass a model car to glue together every birthday when I was a kid and it would be in the trash the next day after I managed to pull the tiny glue covered muffler off my finger tips.

I can put furniture together but you better cover your kids ears.

Legos? I won’t touch em.

My brain doesn’t enjoy that type of activity. Assembling

But Chad you assemble charcuterie all day everyday.

Exactly

Now you get it

I like to create. I don’t like putting things together that I didn’t create.

That’s all

I am excited about this heater though. It wasn’t that long ago I’d wake up in the back of my pick up frozen in an aluminum chamber of ice. I wear a hoodie in my air controlled home. I also wear 5in inseam shorts 11 months out of the year so cheers to consistency. My coldest night camping was a hip camp set up next to creek outside of Chimney Rock. It probably didn’t dip below 25° but I was in a cold pocket froze my set up completely. I sat in my truck the next morning with my heater on blast until I thawed. I’ve slept in 15° nights and never got that cold. I don’t usually camp if it drops below 30° unless I’m guaranteed a sunrise to warm me up. If there’s moisture in the air you can forget warming up organically.

But still, I love it

2-3 inches of rain in the forecast this weekend. I don’t love that. Have fun Fall for Greenville fans. In all honesty I hope it doesn’t get rained out. A lot of people look forward to this event I’m no longer one of them just because I was so attached to these events in the past. That’s why I snark on Euphoria and restaurant week.

It’s completely personal. Nothing against the events at all. I’ve discarded them as stress that I no longer have to attach myself too. The last euphoria event I had a part of concluded my career in the restaurant industry.

*smiles

I feel good today in spite of the world’s mechanisms trying to bite my ass.

Kiss and make up, my ass

Old Chad is still there at times

The clock strikes 6:59am

My writing has concluded for the morning

Cheers

About a year and a half ago psilocybin opened up a new path in my brain and left the gate wide open.

How’s that for an opening line?

It’s taken me a little while to analyze a quiet evening I was having inside of my little rooftop tent back in February 2025. Minding my own business with my headphones on, feet propped out of my tent on a cool winter night on the coast. I had done a fair amount of psilocybin the day before. I’m not talking about a Dead show amount and I don’t carry a gram scale in my back pocket but if I had to wager I’d say about 4-5g of mushrooms. A one and done episode of some nice shiny dream catchers and open minded conversations with myself. The next day I was fine and dandy. Relaxed most of the day by my campsite and read a book. Later that night while I was minding my own business something or someone flipped a record in my head to the B- side, my interior dialogue and view of reality changed forever.

And then some

A massive download

Rewiring

Intuition rebranding

My topsy was turvied

Sometimes I write about this and then I stop. Or I’ll put it in my draft archives and never finish it or post it.

It’s not that it’s that intimate to me and I’m not really concerned if anyone thinks I’m a tad crazy because I may be. “I’ve always been crazy it’s kept me from going insane” – Waylon gets it.

I’ve had 18 months with this under my belt. To stew on, break down, analyze and study.

Stew on? That’s an understatement. When this hits it stays. When you wake up it’s there staring into your soul until you go to bed.

Every single minute of your day.

Some refer to a veil being pulled from their eyes

Awakened from a dream

“I’m seeing things for the first time” – 🐦‍⬛

I thought I died that night. Slight panic attacked filled with euphoria. Some have told me it was a kundalini experience. Maybe. I’m not here for guru jargon nor am I into spiritual materialism. I do enjoy talking about it and watching my friend’s eyes wither light up or glaze over.

It’s usually the latter. Almost always the latter

1. I’m not good at explaining things orally my mouth has always moved faster than my brain.
2. No one likes their lifelong beliefs being questioned

I get it. And I’m only here to relay what my intuition tells me.

“Am I dreaming? Am I dying? Either way I don’t mind at all”

Sturgill is right on time.

Listen

One day 18 months ago I woke up after a something inside of me also woke up.

It woke up like a newborn baby. Screaming and bawling “let me out”.

My discernment took a vacation for a bit.

This is where I usually stop.

Because I can’t get the mechanisms in my brain to explain the way I want it to.

And

If I can the amount of eyebrow raising may hurt your face

But

I see others on fb that have the same thing going on in their lives. Maybe not exactly but the planes are matching. Not the ✈️ kind.

*sighs

Psilocybin journey 48 hours later –

“good morning Chad. It’s all fake”

“It’s all a lie

History as you know it”

Reality

Me rubbing the sleep out of my eyes – “wha”

Brain- “yep. Wakey Wakey eggs and bakey you’re reality is not all that it seems”

Me- …. Wha?

Brain “yep. Ok anyway let’s get ready for work”

Me – but..

Brain – “we’ve got charcuterie boxes to fill bud”

Can I get an expla*

Nope. Deal with it I’ll stay in touch

And sent me on my way.

My thinking changed

My reality changed

My 50 plus years of belief systems jumped off a bridge

Religion was the big one and I’m not here to share much about that but my days as a Christian got shook up.

My belief in the history of our humanity and what’s been processed into books got thrown out of the window. I didn’t wake up with it’s all bullshit. It’s taken a long walk with myself and filtering out all the woo woos to come to my own conclusions and that’s exactly what they are.

Mine

I say this for any that don’t see things the way I do.

I’m not preaching

I’m not selling tickets

No cult following in fact the exact opposite.

You start listening to that voice in your head and realize it’s not yours. It never has been. That’s an entire subject line on its own. Maybe another day..

I see things differently now. It’s not my job or business to show you the way. It’s quite impossible to be honest because if someone tried to turn me onto this I would’ve been politely skeptical and left the conversation whispering “cuckoo”

Sometimes I wander if I am cuckoo 🐦

It’s all a stage.

All

Of

It

I’m not going to fill this up with paranoia material. Again it’s not my obligation to.

It’s why I no longer watch the news

It’s why I stopped watching sports

I don’t engage in tumultuous discussions on current topics. What you perceive as news I see as a possible psyops. Not every time and not every thing

But

Close

More and more are seeing what I see. But still not enough.

Awakening? That always sounds over the top. What are you waking up from Chad?

Very loaded question. Again I battle with discernment. Still trying to find my way home

But

Awake? You just start to remember things. My mind woke up and started telling me my life was bullshit. We aren’t meant to be domesticated or controlled. Not in those exact words I can’t translate my entire intuition into a perfect language. I can’t tell what my heart is saying when it beats or my lungs say when I exhale. My intuition light came on and ripped the switch off the wall.

That’s all

You see things differently is all. That’s the veil they refer to you when they speak of a cloth pulled from your eyes because it can feel like that.

You see things others don’t

Or I should say

You translate the things you see differently. That might come across as better. People get in their heads that you’re looking or talking down when this is brought up. It’s not that at all. To me it’s like describing a color to someone who’s color blind.

Again it’s not an advantage. It’s just a different vantage point.

A substantially different one.

I watch people debate each other online and I shrug my shoulders. I want to scream my pov but most won’t get it.

After a while you stop talking about it because it’s not something you can talk someone into believing unless they wake up. See even saying that comes across as elitist and it’s not intended.

You stop talking.

But

You keep observing.

It’s why I go camping every weekend now. To get away from it. Push away the distractions, the games, the politics. There’s no good and bad. It’s all the same. Take what you want from that.

This is going to end abruptly because I have work to do and honestly there’s no “get to the point” because I pretty much did as soon as I said it’s all a show.

There’s no ending to this subject line. It grows as my time does. Anyone that wants to sit with a cup of coffee I’ll talk about it all day.

The minute I wake up to the time I fall asleep. It’s all I observe and think about.

Crazy? Yeah but not that kind.

Later gators

I use my Facebook memories to compare my “where are they now” thoughts on life on a weekly basis. My delete app button stays warm all the time with my shuffling of nosiness and fomo and then I go into ghost mode for a day or two.

To me, Facebook is the most toxic app for social media interaction. I don’t do X and thank god because I don’t need another garbage outlet of info. I know they both have their uses but the majority ain’t using it for beneficial purposes.

Again just my observation and I’m well aware that in the old days, trolling was one of my favorite pastimes. And the old days weren’t that long ago. I still find myself making comments and posts and later going back and deleting them once I take a moment to reflect on the post.

Hard to take the troll out of the troller.

Baby steps

Anyhoo

I look back on some of my old posts and wince, cringe and or observe what my mind was thinking about at the time.

Lot of anger

Bitterness

The need to be heard and understood

Ego honking it’s horn

It still honks I’m just more aware of it. I haven’t defeated ol El Ego and I’m not trying to. I only want to loosen its control over my behavior. My career and ego are very connected. I’ve been separate from both in two different ways.

How? I have no clue. I make up as I go. Don’t ever think of me as a person who’s got it all figured out because I don’t.

I’m just more aware of it now. And knowing is half the battle 🌈

My old posts screamed “look at me”

“Pay attention to me”

“Let me tell you how I feel about everything and everyone”

A declaration of indignation every single chance I got.

In fact that’s most of what Facebook represents. A platform of individual indignation seeking validation from those who would agree with your views and opinions. We don’t like to be wrong so we side on the virtues that reflect ours regardless of who else it represents.

Regardless of other points made we’ll stick to our original points. *Glances at ego

Yeah I’m talking bout you

My own personal growth chart is how many times can I look back on something I posted (and yes I used to post a lot) and ask myself

“Do I still think or behave this way?“

“Oof I’d never post that shit today”

“I no longer represent this statement”

It’s a self reflection on my past. I don’t look back at it like I fucked life up. It’s a “hey, I’m not that person anymore”

It’s not a “what were you thinking?” exclamation because I can look back and tell you exactly what I was thinking.

And well long story short, I don’t think that way anymore.

“They didn’t go up there and tell you. I don’t shine shoes anymore”

Goodfellas sound byte

My thinking has changed. Maybe it’s my 50’s rewiring my noggin or too many mushrooms who knows.

I’ve been in a cage match with my ego for the past two years or so.

My wrestler’s name is The Alchemist.

*grabs ego in headlock

“Who’s your daddy??”

or something like that.

You know what’s weird is for a week my voice changed while writing on my unplugged trip and it’s gone back to this.

Nothing bad I just find myself still reflecting as I try to move forward. Like a slingshot in slow motion.

Pull back, let go

I want that humor back. Gotta go back and look for it. Grief is still alive and kicking.

As it should be. I’m not trying to kick it out I’m still processing.

I may go tailgate by a creek. I may stay there for the night because it’s asking me to. Rightfully so.

In fact. I’m gonna.

Later gators 🐊

I said goodbye to my sister while sitting on a ridge watching the sunrise Monday morning. She hadn’t passed yet but my mind told me it wouldn’t be long before she would.

“I love you Marsha” was all I said as the sun rose over the mountain. It wasn’t my plan to do so. I watched the sun crest and it came out of my mouth.

Grief is a bouncing ball inside your head. At first it’s all you can focus on, the loud, constant ricocheting echoing in your mind. There’s nothing to distract you from it. It bounces through your entire day and even when you sleep you can still hear it. The echos get louder at times and occasionally they’ll fade when you aren’t paying attention. You can feel the ball bounding while you try to go back to your day of toiling or rest. Some days the bouncing is just a patter.

If you think about it, it gets louder. Every once in a while you get upset with yourself for not paying attention to it and then that’s all you think about

*bounce

*bounce

*bounce

Eventually you get used to the sound but it’ll never go away. I know this because I have a half dozen or so that I can still hear bouncing to this day.

It’s hard to describe what it’s like losing a sibling. I’m not here to narrate it.

Not today

Something they won’t tell you in entrepreneur class is how the show must go on. I’m that boss that asks the question “you still coming to work right?”

To myself

“Do I have a choice?

To be honest, sitting at home isn’t the best option for me either. I grieve if I do and grieve if I don’t.

I’m always tying annual memories together with a mental string. It was this week 6 years ago I parted with my company and for some reason writing that out just felt like I’m beating air with a stick.

“It’s done Chad.”

And just like that it is. 6 years of harping on a memory that started off with

Anger

Shame

Hopelessness

Slowly alchemized into

Gratitude

Relief

Peace

And now that’s it. It just fluttered out and away.

Fizzled with no fanfare

Grief rears its ugly head and extinguishes another. Not sure if that is just a step in the right direction or a final passage of sorts.

Wild. It’s just gone. Faster than I could write it out.

A moment of composure please

I’m not tired as much as spent. If that makes sense. I have to quit focusing like I’m on a curriculum. “Who or what is next?” is an unhealthy outlook

Move on Gangwer

You first

Who the fuck am I even talking to right now?

A hard rain is coming this week. Nature has a dramatic way of catching up on its responsibilities. Sorry about that hot dry summer. Here’s a few inches of rain to make amends.

Did the same thing two years ago albeit a little more dramatic.

I’m changing the subject on purpose

*ball bounces further away

My coffee for some reason just can’t get hot enough for me today.

Grief is odd man. Yesterday I made jokes with Barry most of the day in between the urges to burn my deli to the ground.

I cussed out a telemarketer. I want to apologize to anyone that’s called for charcuterie orders I’m just not nice right now.

I’ve closed the deli an hour early here and there because sitting in that place for an hour alone doesn’t feel good to me.

I’m ok. I really am. I’m just not there yet.

I’m also not used to dealing with grief sober.

*sighs

Rain is forcing me to stay home and reckon with my emotions for the week. I suppose it’s the best thing for me. Melancholy on steroids.

I have 8 days to get a suit that no longer fits me dry cleaned.

My Sunday finest that I’ve never worn on a Sunday. She’ll be laid to rest on a Saturday. Do I bring food? I mean that’s what I fucking do right?

*ball continues to bounce

I don’t listen to music much when I grieve. Some music will attach itself almost like a spell. I’ve got two songs that I won’t listen to because they refresh my memory of my dad’s passing. I’ve got one for my stepfather too. Brother has one, mom has a whole ass catalogue.

Marsha? It’ll be Queen. Any Queen song. One day she came into the deli and asked if I had any Queen albums. “I love Queen they’re one of my favorites”

I immediately stopped what I was doing and put on a Queen album and Marsha smiled and went back to her conversation with her husband. Did you know Freddie and I share the same birthday? I’ll bet my sister did.

It’s going to be a minute before I can listen to Queen again but I promise I will when the ball begins to quiet down.

Peace.

I refused to start this unless I had to.

But it’s life

My oldest sister passed away at 4:49 Monday afternoon.

Marsha Gangwer Mull. My father’s first born. She was 20 years older than me there was no sibling rivalry to be had with us. By the time I was born Marsha had already moved out of the house. The only time I shared a household with her was when she took my father in after my parents divorce. Without a word she and Ralph made an in-law suite for my dad to live with them till the end of his days.

Marsha loved my father with all of her heart. She never stopped talking about him even 30 years after his death. She was one of two daughters from my dad’s first marriage. His wife passed at an early age with the same medical issue that took my sister. According to her Ralph my brother in-law of over 50 years.

I’m not sure I can sit here and write about my sister today.

I’ve lost my parents, stepfather, brother and now my eldest sister. Chronologically I suppose I’m going to experience this as time goes by. Morbid observation.

A part of me has gone with all of them.

Each one that has passed has taken a piece of me with them that won’t return. Man I just got really tired all of a sudden.

My thoughts are skewed on life after death. I’m not saying we rot in the ground I’m only saying I different perspectives on the after life but whatever it may be I hope that she gets to see her parents again. Dad I hope you are reunited with your daughter.

I’m not going to bust out any style points with this one.

I honestly thought my oldest sister would outlive us all. Marsha was strong, body and mind. I’ve said this before she was the only one of my siblings that always came to see me wherever I worked.

Always wished me a happy birthday.

She was the keeper of my father’s stories. My dad’s historian

Of all my brothers and sisters, Marsha just kept her head down and lived the most normal life you can imagine. I’m so fucking jealous of that.

Her grandkids were her life. And of course her husband Ralph for the last 50 years.

Ralph, I hope my daughter finds someone as devoted and kind as you. You’ll never know how big of a compliment that is.

I’m spent. Grief doesn’t hit me immediately anymore. It jabs at me when I’m not looking and I guess I have my eyes closed right now.

I’m observing. But I’m in it too. I’ve never known life without Marsha. I went by the hospice twice and was hoping to go again today..

I’m all over the place. I suppose that’s the norm

Man I hope souls do meet again I really do. I’m not here to hear the “they do Chad!” I’ll wait my turn and find out for myself.

I just want to hug Ralph for the next 5 years is all. The boys are strong it’s different with them they still have their families to tend to. I grew up with them. They’re more like brothers to me than nephews. It’s always been that way

Surround Ralph with all your love

Marsha and her/my sister Kelley are the only connections I have to the Gangwer part of my family down here. Yes we all have children to represent but this is different. Only us three and my daughter have that last name birthed into us. There are no more up in PA. My last name is slowly disappearing.

I won’t be around to see it end.

But

It’s weird. I didn’t cry yesterday when I heard the news. It was the same with my mother. I knew it was coming. Today? Not so much. I had considered closing the deli. I’m not going to be much of a counter person today.

Yeah. I’m done here. Time to pick up the pieces. I have a coffee date with my daughter.

Young teen love was weird for me.

And awkward.

I had a slew of sisters growing up in a tight household. I was surrounded by teens raging female hormones and a mother with an overly sensitive nervous system. So in my small prepubescent reality women were quite the handful. I spent most of my teen life with only my mother as my roommate. We bonded over tv shows, old westerns with popcorn and a tall glass of whole milk. I got front row seats to unexplained pre and big shows of menopause. I’d watch my mom go off the rails sometimes while I hid behind an X men comic book. Revolving doors of sisters coming back home to stay awhile after splits and divorces. My family has hosted quite a few of those. Most of my childhood I was made to believe marriage was temporary at best.

It was definitely volatile.

I had my fair share of crushes in middle school but holy shit by golly gee my ass was not about to go talk to one of them . I was more awkward looking than I’d ever been. Slow action puberty left me looking like Ichabod Crane with a mullet, crustache and hand me down clothes. I’d write love letters to some classmates crushes that would never ever see them. A couple of them I’m still friends with on Facebook.

Hi yall

Who are they? Yeah fuck off you’ll never know.

I ogled at high school girls like a psychopath while I was tortured by my pubertuous hormones. Yeah I just created a word shut up. The opposite sex terrified me. Let’s be honest it still does at times. I spend most of my days making sure I don’t piss my wife off.

I asked my first date to my ‘88 high school prom. She didn’t go to my school she went to Rock Hill. She was a cousin of a high school friend. I held my rotary phone with a 20 foot cord attached to the wall in the hallway of my parent’s home with my hand shaking as I dialed multiple digits with my index finger and then hang up before it could ring.

Multiple digits, multiple times

She said yes and we had a good time. My hand would shake as I held hers and I’ll bet it was full of nervous teenage sweat too. I cradled her hand like a robin’s egg. I chickened out on the goodnight kiss but did connect lips for half a second.

I really liked this young lady. And I was terrified of doing anything. Right or wrong.

Love? Nah I wasn’t ready for that, it took post high school to figure out what that meant and even then I was way off most of the time. My past relationships are mostly buried under therapy sessions and a barrage of “oofs”

I grew up watching 80’s romance comedy movies. Great ones.

16 Candles

Pretty in Pink

A Sure Thing

When Harry Met Sally

I read comics and fantasy novels with damsels in distress.

Hero always gets the girl

Nice guy does too.

I was never a hero though and for a long while I wasn’t a very nice guy.

I don’t discuss my old relationships on here for several reasons.

One- I’m still associated with most of my exes on here and I don’t want to be disrespectful

Two – I’m married and I don’t want to be disrespectful

Three – it’s no one’s business

Most of my relationships ran out of steam. Some were just bad timing while others we outgrew each other. Some ended amicably while others crashed and burned.

You grow up reading about soulmates

Romance novels

Hero carrying the lady of on his trusty steed.

Cue the key words-

Destiny

True love

Happily ever after

It’s all bullshit

“Well goddamn Chad who hurt you?”

That’s not what I mean y’all calm down.

All I’m saying is love is not a fairy tale. It’s not always Rapunzel getting her hair pulled. That one can go in a thousand different ways.. It’s not Molly Ringwald sitting across her soulmate kissing over a cake filled with candles.

No Never Ending Story lines

It’s devotion

It’s patience

It’s sacrifice

Surrender

Responsibility

It’s fucking hard

Take the 85 positions of sex out of the equation

The door openings

Long goodnight kisses

Date nights

Celebrations

All of these are great components of a healthy marriage. All of them rely on steam to keep going. Except for maybe the door opening. I’ve gotten slack on that one too.

*long sigh

I’ve spent the last couple of days watching my brother in-law sit beside my sick sister who’s in hospice care at the moment.

No phone, no tv, no book. He sits by her bed while she lies unconscious in hospice care.

53 years of marriage connects these two. I don’t know any part of my life that these two aren’t connected by each other.

He sits, hands in his lap and watches my sister struggle to breathe. Often times holding her hand. She’s aware. I know she is. She nods to his words at times.

His eyes are rewinding an entire lifetime of love and devotion. If they are soulmates it’s because they built that bond. There was no fairy wand. No evil dragon kidnapping, no high school bully putting a damsel in distress.

53 years of love. The real thing.

I’d watch him open her car door outside my deli when they’d come by to eat and smile. When they got too old for adventures they’d go on slow cruises and drive to enjoy some bird watching.

Together

Love man. I love them both with all my heart. It’s painful to watch love pass through grief.

Love is a note by the coffee maker after 20 years

Love is reckoning with your own heart to make it work

Quiet evenings on the porch talking about absolutely nothing

Forehead kiss before bed

Forgiveness

Changing to fit each other as you both grow

Sitting next to the bed as your significant other slowly says goodbye for life.

I’ve been crying for three days watching this. It’s tragically painful, heartbreaking

But

It’s also beautiful.

It’s how love ends for the right people as bad as it sounds. Ends isn’t the right word for this. I don’t have one at the moment. I get the marriages where one of the couples passes after decades of marriage and the other fades not long after.

I’d like to think they’re off the find each other all over again.

“Shake the Frost” plays in my ears.

“And I love you like the mountains
Loves the way the mornin’ opens
To a soft and bright greetin’ from the sun”

Tyler gets it. I do too. But I feel like I just did.

Marsha and Ralph. I’ve been saying that tandem my entire life. I know no other way of saying it.

Want to know what love is really about?

You gotta hang in there at times.

Yeah there’s a lot more but I’m spent man. I’ve been watching this movie my whole life and the credits may be rolling soon.

Be like Marsha and Ralph.

I had much more to say in my head last night. Some evenings right before bed I’ll get some epiphanies that shine a light in my head for a solid journaling session and I’ll type some notes down before bed to prompt my thoughts. Often times I’ll try to decipher my short handed notes and have no idea what I was trying to convey. Today is one of those days.

I’m in a juggling of grief, work and slight exhaustion. I have a sister that was taken to hospice care yesterday. She’s been my main concern for the past two days. I went to see her yesterday morning before work, she was unconscious and looked frail. Her frailty took me out for the morning. My eldest sister has always been a strong woman. Strong willed and confident. She’s a rock. Her husband of 50 plus years sat by her side.

Im writing this to get the grief out. My sister has not passed and I refuse to acknowledge it as the only thing left to happen. Her husband has been my brother in law since I was 3 or 4. They celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary awhile back. They got all gussied up with their two sons to celebrate that moment. I remember looking at the pics with a giant smile on my face. I love my sister and brother in-law.

I’m currently sobbing. Lily if you read this yes your dad can cry on occasion.

Ralph, sitting attentive, next to his whole complete life at 6:45am on a cool rainy morning. I’ve never seen him cry in my life until yesterday. They’ve both taken care of each other over their entire adult lives.

He didn’t want to leave in case she woke up.

That’s what love and devotion is. In its entirety. I can’t talk about this anymore.

I went to visit my sister because I love her not just because she’s my sister. I kissed her on the forehead. It’s probably the first time I’ve ever done that. The Gangwer’s aren’t very physically expressive in their emotions. Then I drove to work to work on a grazing table that normally takes a few hours but instead took up my entire day.

Creativity and grief mix like oil and water. I spent most of my morning staring at my prep table, taping a smile on my face each time a customer came in and standing in my bathroom with the door locked composing myself. They don’t talk about this part in entrepreneurship.

$2k caterings don’t respond well to grief.

Indeed. Neither do I

My sister, as I’ve said before, always came to my businesses to see me.

And that meant the world to me

Marsha, Ralph told me how you would tell everyone about “my brother jumps in his truck and just drives out to see the world”

You were always proud of me even during the times that no one should’ve.

Correction you ARE

This hurts man. This is life I suppose

My view on passing away is skewed. I haven’t made my own personal conclusions with it. If it goes according to some she will get to see her dad. Our dad.

The afterlife needs a postcard system. I’d love to see a pic of them together one day. She took care of dad when after he divorced with my mom. Without question. Ralph built him an in-law suite.

Without question.

I have to go back into work. Just like this all over again. They moved my sister to Simpsonville yesterday. I intend to go see her again after work. In fact I’ll probably close my deli down early.

You don’t get all of me you ass.

Sorry

Dying is a part of living. I say this all the time. It never makes me feel better when I do.

Hollow words

I always want to run and hide from grief. It’s always faster than me. I can already feel a part of me leaving.

Ralph sitting next to my sister. That’s it man. That’s what love is.