Happy Friday everyone! Stephen here. I know that it has
been a minute since I have posted on this blog. Many thanks to Rob for his
continual posting on the blog, and for his subtle nudging and encouragement for
me to pick back up with my writing. I like to view this as a joint endeavor
between he and I, but it has mostly fallen on Rob’s shoulders over the past
year to produce blog content. I am extremely grateful that he has continued to
be faithful in publishing content that all Samson brothers can relate to.
Sometimes life just throws you a curveball. Sometimes
you set out on a path in life that is so subtle, you did not even realize it
was happening. Sometimes that subtle path in life leads to a career change. My original
goal in life was to work on computers. So immediately after high school, I went
to a two-year college and got an associate degree in computer network
administration. I did that for a little while, then I decided I wanted to go
into teaching. I went back to college at a four-year university (where I met my
future wife), and got my bachelor’s degree in English, and went into teaching
for a while. After a few years, I went back to graduate school and pursued a master’s
degree in English, and taught on the collegiate level for some time. Did I
mention that somewhere in all that, I ended up in Arizona living at the Grand
Canyon National Park on the south rim for two years while doing accounting for
a store in the national park? When I look back at my life thus far, it almost
feels like I got on a giant waterslide at the water park and just had to go
wherever the slide sent me, because I was powerless to stop myself or change my
trajectory once I had started my journey down the slide.
Life is funny like that sometimes. You know, growing
up, I always loved books and I was a voracious reader thanks to my scholarly
parents who encouraged my reading and my academic pursuits. However, working in
a library (of any type) was not even on the radar as I was growing up and
deciding what path I wanted to choose career-wise. About 10 years ago, I took a
second, part-time job working as the night and weekend supervisor for the
library on the campus where I taught. One thing led to another, and about six
years ago I began to transition myself into full-time academic librarianship;
the teaching portion became a secondary, as-needed adjunct basis. Giving up my
dreams of teaching is not something that I wanted to do initially, but those of
you who know my story know that I suffered a drastic hearing loss in my teens
which continued as a gradual decline in my college years. Even though I had
surgery to successfully restore some of it, it was never the same, and I was
just losing more and more confidence each year being in the classroom in front
of many students. So, when I had the chance to transition into a different area
of academics, I jumped on it. However, I quickly hit the ceiling of where I
could advance in my career with the degrees that I had, so about two years ago
I was told that I had to go back to school yet again to pursue my
Master of Library Information Science degree. Yes, I had a Master’s degree, but
I did not have the right Master’s degree! I was told by the
University that I must go back and pursue the correct master’s degree to remain
in my job. Working full time, carrying almost the entire weight of my department
on my shoulders (due to personnel issues), and being a full-time husband and
dad while simultaneously pursuing another master’s degree was a pretty busy and
hectic stretch of the road for me. But I finally graduated (with a 4.0, I might
add); as of two weeks ago, I am Stephen Coleman, A.S., B.A., M.A., and M.L.I.S...
Nah, I am just kidding. I am still simply just plain old Stephen: sometimes rather
forgettable, broken down, messed up, Samson dude who has been redeemed by God’s
grace. So anyway, that is my story and the cause of my lengthy absence from
just about everything in life outside the abovementioned things. Life really is
crazy sometimes. Here I am at 40 years old working at a career that was never
even a thought I entertained in my 20s. But it is funny how life comes full
circle. I still teach from time to time, do instruction in our library (a form
of teaching), work with computers on the back end by doing programming, work
with college students, and serve as the systems librarian for an academic
library. What a mixed-up mess (career-wise) my life has been so far. But you
know. God is good to me. I am very lucky, very blessed, and very thankful for
the life that God chose for me and allowed me to fall into both professional
and personally.
But I do truly enjoy writing, and I am grateful to
have the chance to rejoin this blog. I look forward to continuing with my “Bridges”
series next week. Next week’s entry, “The Bridge to Friendship,” is one that is
very dear to me and is one that is making me very emotional as I write it. Stay
tuned for that!
OK – Enough of my rambling….
One of the things that my family has enjoyed from the
time that my son was a young tot, is going to eat at Cracker Barrel on Friday
nights. I know what you are thinking. Cracker Barrel? Why in the world Cracker
Barrel? Certainly, it is nothing fancy, nothing special, and is certainly
nothing to write home about. But my little family just loves that place and cannot
get enough of it. Something about going to Cracker Barrel evokes a sense of
nostalgia that causes us to reminisce about our pasts, while simultaneously
making new memories with our son as we bond together over a nice warm meal.
One of the things that I cannot stand to see is when I
go to a restaurant and witness the parents and all their accompanying children self-absorbed
in their own worlds, glued to electronic devices. I kid you not: a few months
ago, I was in Cracker Barrel and we noticed a mom and dad and about four
children who came in behind us. Each of the parents was glued to their phone,
and each of the children had an iPad with headphones attached to their ears. As
they were seated close to us, we were able to observe them throughout the meal,
and those poor souls never once got off their devices or had any form of
conversation even after their food was delivered. My wife and I have always had
a rule in our house: no electronic devices at the table. I grew up eating
dinner around the table with my family, and that is a tradition that we have
continued with our son. Of course, there are some Saturday nights where we will
gather around the television in the living room and watch a movie as a family
while eating dinner, but during the week you better believe that we are sitting
at the table (or the bar) eating together as a family and sharing stories about
our respective days. The same holds true for when we go to a restaurant. Even
though my son is growing up (he is seven, going on 17), we do not allow him to
have any electronic devices at the table in a restaurant. He may be bored to
tears, but he will engage with mom and dad and we will talk about life and what
is currently going on in our lives.
I did not know until a few years ago, but there is a Cracker Barrel warehouse where all of the old vintage items are stored once they have been procured. In case you were not aware, or have never been inside of a Cracker Barrel, the walls are lined with old photographs, miscellaneous items, antique guns, deer heads, cigarette advertisements, and other neat memorabilia. Believe it or not, there is a curator whose only job is to go all over the United States visiting flea markets, estate sales, garage sales, etc. and select then purchase items for the Cracker Barrel warehouse. These items will then be used to decorate the interiors of the Cracker Barrel stores. If I had not already invested so much time and money into becoming an academic librarian, that would absolutely be my dream job! These items have been the source of many conversations for us three; we like to talk about what they were used for or what long-forgotten products the advertisements were trying to sell. In fact, at the Cracker Barrel store that we most frequently visit, there is a giant deer head hanging over the fireplace. I remember when my son was barely three or four years old, and he saw that deer head hanging over the fireplace. He asked me “daddy, why is there a deer head hanging over the fireplace?” I told him “that’s a good question son. I don’t know, but I do know that your mother would never have a deer head hanging in her house.” He said “good! That is a silly idea anyway!” Fortunately, my wife and I have similar ideas when it comes to mounting dead animals on the walls of our home. It is a no-go for either one of us. Now do not get me wrong: I love me some venison and I could eat it all day every day, but I sure do not want to see Bambi’s head hanging over my fireplace every time I sit down! I like my venison on my plate in the form of steak and gravy, not staring down at me accusingly from the wall.
Of all the things on the walls, the photographs provide
us with some of the most interesting conversations. There are numerous
photographs on the walls: men, women, and children. Since the Samson society is
geared towards men, I am not including any photographs of children or women as
illustrations in this blog, though I assure you, we have had discussions about
the women just as much as the men. “Oh, she was a mean schoolteacher!” Or
perhaps something along the lines of “wow, she must’ve worked in a brothel (I
covered my son’s ears for that comment because I did not feel like getting into
a discussion over dinner about the minute details surrounding brothels).
So, without further ado, let me introduce you to three of my new (old) Cracker Barrel friends:
 |
| Subject 1. - "Benji" |
First, we have Benji. Whether or not that was his given name, I could not tell you. But it is the name that my son gave him. In the course of our family discussion, we all decided that Benji must’ve been about 13 to 16 in this picture and was quite the mischievous young fella. I mean, can’t you just see it? That twinkle in his sepia-tinted eyeball? You just know that he was always in trouble, pulling pranks on people and raising hell in the classroom. But we decided that he was fun-loving, and the life of the party, and an overall good guy with a good heart. Whatever happened to Benji? Who was he when he grew up? Where did he live? Did he ever get married and have children? Did he love his people well? What did he do for a living? How long did he live? I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.
 |
| Subject 2. - "Luther" |
Next, we have Luther who is the older brother of Benji. Whether or not he was related by blood to Benji in real life, I could not tell you. But for the purpose of our discussion, we made him Benji’s older brother. Their photographs were one table apart on the wall next to each other. I am the one who had the honor of giving Luther his name. He looks like a serious, scholarly, by the books young fella. I would estimate that he was probably about late teens to mid-20s in this picture. He did a good job of keeping Benji in line, and maybe even had to bail Benji out of trouble a time or two. Luther was that solid, stable, walking the narrow path type of big brother. My wife and I speculated about whether he went to college, went to work in a respectable profession, or was in some branch of the military. Whatever he did in life, my wife and I agreed on one thing: he looked like a guy who did it well and was a solid rock for everyone in his life. He loved his people, and he loved them well.
 |
| Subject 3. - "James" |
Finally, we have James. James was given his name
because, well, he just looks like a James! We could not determine whether James
was the uncle or the father of Benji and Luther. Whichever one he was, our
consensus as a family was that he was very serious, not much fun, and very
successful in his career as either a banker or an attorney. Like Luther, James
was a by-the-book type of fella and commanded the respect of those in his life.
Before you tell me, I already know it, I am a weird
guy. But at 40 years old, I have finally learned to love myself for who I am,
and I am comfortable enough in my own skin that I don’t care what others think
of me. You either like me, or you don’t. In all honesty, these photographs were
a lot of fun to analyze and provided some good quality conversation during
that night’s dinner.
Now that I have hit 40 years old, I am starting to
think about the legacy that I am leaving in my own life. I can tell you this: I
do not want my legacy to be one where I end up on the wall in a Cracker Barrel
somewhere in the far distant future! Because you know what would happen? Some weirdo
like myself would come along and start taking photographs of my photograph and
then proceeding to make up imaginary stories about me with his family over
dinner at Cracker Barrel! No, I do not want that to be my legacy at all.
The truth of the matter is that unless you are
extremely wealthy or you achieve something extraordinarily remarkable, society
is not going to remember you. I had a conversation a while back with my brother
about how we do not even know our ancestors. The truth is you will be forgotten
within a few generations. Your photographs, once so proudly displayed on the
walls of your home, will be packed into boxes, and put into someone’s attic. After
a while, they (or their descendants) will decide to spring clean and proceed to
deliver your likeness to the nearest thrift store as a donation. And then if you
are lucky, the curator for Cracker Barrel will find your photograph and you
will end up on the wall in a Cracker Barrel store somewhere in the United
States.
It is a sobering thought, realizing that we most
likely will be forgotten within a few generations of our passing. As I think
about what exactly that means, I am more encouraged and motivated than ever before to not
worry about any type of legacy that I am going to leave behind, but rather,
to focus on the here and the now and living in this moment. I want to love people
and love them well. I want my wife and my son to know to and to feel in their
very being just how much I love them. I want my parents and my brother and all
the rest of my family to know that I care. And I want to be the best friend
that I can possibly be to those I am fortunate to have in my life.
It is so easy to get wrapped up in life and to
sometimes compartmentalize your life. I often tell people that I go through
life like a horse with blinders on his eyes; I tend to only see what is in
front of me and not what is in my peripheral vision. I am so guilty of
compartmentalizing my life and focusing only on what’s right in front of me.
But there are so many people and so many things that lie in the corners of my
peripheral vision that I need to focus on as well.
So who am I going to be remembered as? I certainly
hope that I will not be remembered as the guy who spent so much time in college
getting all of the degrees. Rather, I hope that I will be remembered by former
students and colleagues as Mr. Coleman, the guy who really genuinely cared
about them. I challenge you today to love those around you. Don’t end up like
Benji, Luther, and James. No one remembers who they were. At least I don’t. We
can only speculate what type of guys they were. And someday, people will
speculate what type of guy you were as well. But for now, let there be no
doubt of the way we were. Love others and love them big.
I love you guys, Stephen
No comments:
Post a Comment