Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Mission Monitor Board Fare thee well...

That was the lesser of the two curve balls, though. The other was about to make itself known. You might want to sit down for this one...

After my dad's funeral, I came back home to Kentucky. I was still in the midst of my divorce, and I had begun chatting with the woman I mentioned earlier. Life was getting back to abnormal.

My brother had taken charge of cleaning up my dad's estate. That made sense. He lived there, and I didn't.

One weekend I drove there because we were having a major cleaning day. My parents were pack rats. They had so much junk, and almost all of it just got thrown away. Almost all of my relatives were pitching in that day, just to throw crap away and help get the house ready for sale.

When we had finished for the day, everyone left, except for my brother, my sister, and me. My brother told me he had found a letter that Dad had left for us. He had found it while going through my dad's safety deposit box. My curiosity was certainly aroused, although I couldn't begin to guess what my dad had written.

My brother started to read the letter aloud. It went on for several pages, but it essentially said this: My mom couldn't have kids.

Did you catch that? Did you let it sink in a bit? Did anybody see that one coming?

So, there I was at the ripe old age of 48, and my brother and sister and I found out we were adopted. Which, honestly, made a lot of sense. I'm 6'3". Nobody else in my family is over 5'8". We all had different temperaments, different aptitudes, different body types, different...everything. None of my family really had anything in common with each other. My brother and sister and I all had brown hair and eyes, but I'm sure we were selected for that.

So, what did this mean for me? Pretty much...nothing. I was still the same person I was the day before. My brother and sister were still my brother and sister. Everything was just the same as it had been. I describe it as a high-impact moment that means absolutely nothing. It is a somewhat lonely feeling, though. I have kids, but, other than them, I have never met anyone that I'm actually related to.

But it did leave me with some questions. I have my adoption papers. They show I was more than a year old when I was adopted. That means I had another name once. I wonder what it was. I also wonder if I have any brothers or sisters. What's it like to meet someone your own age that you're actually related to? So, I filled out some papers several months ago. I haven't heard back yet.

We'll see what happens.

Whoa
That's a lot

I like your descriptor - "high-impact moment that means absolutely nothing"

I had a friend who unsealed her adoption as an adult (she was presenting with a genetic disease and the doctor suggested she do so to find out what else is in the tree)... it's a lot to take in
Good luck with it!

After some fairly heavy stuff, here's a brief interlude...


I have a teakettle. Now, I don't like tea. I don't like coffee either. I don't even drink soda pop anymore. It's strictly water and cheap gin for me. But I'll always have a teakettle.

I'm sure someone is wondering, "Ok, Lance, Why do you have a teakettle?" I'm so glad you asked!

When I was 4-years-old, my family was visiting my grandparents in Nebraska. My grandmother had a copper teakettle on display on her coffee table. It absolutely fascinated me. It actually looks a little like Aladdin's lamp, although it's clearly a teakettle. (And yes, I have rubbed it and made a wish. Just to be sure.)

At 4 years of age, it captivated me. My mom and grandmother had both admonished me and told me to stop fiddling with it. But I just couldn't stop. (I mean, seriously, what harm was I going to do to a copper teakettle?) But, they made it clear that I could look, but not touch. In fact, they had made it clear enough times that I should have gotten it through my thick head to leave the silly thing alone. But this was beyond the ability of 4-year-old me...

I just couldn't resist touching it. It was so cool! And the lid came off! And you could probably hide cool things inside! And somehow, while examining it, I managed to get one of my fingers stuck in the spout, and I could not pull it loose!

"Lance! Are you messing with that teakettle again?" my mom yelled from the next room. I turned as fast as I could to face her, and I quickly whipped my hand behind my back, the teakettle obstinately clinging to my finger. I tried to block my guilt with my body. "Nope!" I replied, trying to radiate innocence.

Oddly enough, neither my mom nor my grandmother seemed to be fooled. I guess they had x-ray vision, or something. Or maybe they just knew me. Plausible deniability is very difficult to pull off when one's finger is stuck in a teakettle spout.

They came and helped me get the teakettle off my finger, all the while scolding me. It was hard to take their chastisement seriously, because they were both trying not to laugh, and failing miserably. I do remember being embarrassed.

And 50 years later, I still have the teakettle. My mom and my grandmother have both passed on. The teakettle reminds me of them. It reminds me of a time when the worst thing that could happen was to get my finger stuck in a teakettle spout.

It reminds me that even if I think I can get away with something, the guilt will still cling, and I might never be free of it. It reminds me that consequences do follow our actions. I try to be kind and decent and honest. Pinocchio had a cricket to assist his conscience. I have a copper teakettle.

Some people who have visited my home have asked about it, because it seems out of place. It certainly isn't a "guy thing" to have. I just tell most of them it has sentimental value. Very few of them get the whole story. Some memories belong just to me. And now, to you, too...

As intense as these anecdotes are, I have to admit I've also been enjoying your descriptions of your experiences quite a bit.

Great little story. I wish we all had some sort of reminder for our conscience.

I don't really know you Lance but I am finding your tales fascinating.

The one thing I feel I have learnt about you is that you are a great story teller. That can be a tremendous gift all by itself.

Thank you very much for the feedback! I had been hoping that at least a handful of people were both reading and enjoying my chronicles. It's good to know some people are appreciating them!

Welcome home, Lance! Sorry to read about the bad times, but you've come out of it in one solid piece. Good to have an object to re-center you - and a cup of tea never hurts.

Hi Cramer! It's been a day or two!

These stories aren't just about the bad times, but they are about significant events that have happened over the past few years.

2014 was a profitable year for me. My dad died in January. He didn't have a lot of money, but he had a little, plus I got my share of what the house sold for.

Also, my divorce was final in September. How was that profitable? Because she ran the standard divorce playbook. All monies had been moved to accounts in her name only. After the divorce, I got my half of our savings, as well as my share of the equity in the house. Plus, she had to pay me alimony for a couple years.

So, here I was in a two-bedroom apartment with three kids. That was working ok, but it could have been better. Besides, now I had more than enough money for the down-payment on a house, so I went house hunting. In November of 2014. Really not the best time.

It took several months to find what I wanted, where I wanted. Where did I want to be? I wanted to be close to my kids, so I bought a house about 1000 feet from my ex-wife. I have my kids exactly half the time, and there is an enormous convenience factor. What if a kid forgets their homework, or charger cord, or whatever? Walk over to the other house and get it!

I closed on the house a week after the lease ran out on my apartment. This meant I got to move twice, which was just as much fun as it sounds like. (Several people from my church helped. God bless 'em!) I didn't have much stuff, really, so they were easy moves. I told the kids that I was in a hotel, because I was essentially homeless for a week. My youngest (he was 8 then) asked, "Are you a hobo? My dad's a hobo!" He's so funny.

This isn't a big house. But whoever designed it brought the A game. It's a 3-bedroom ranch, with another bedroom in the basement. So, essentially a 4-bedroom. This means every kid gets their own room. I get my own room, too. It has 3 full bathrooms. No more waiting to pee. I have a nice big kitchen with plenty of counter space. I have a ping pong table in my basement. And one of the best parts was, it was a foreclosure, so I got a decent deal on it, maybe 10% off. When you get 10% off on groceries, it's a good day. When you get 10% off of your house, you do a little dance. Maybe a big dance.

The place was filthy, which was good. If it had been pristine, it would have cost more, and I know how to clean.

The kids love it. So do I. It's a small house, really. But it's a palace to me! More than that, it's my home.

I've worked in radio most of my life. I went back to school years ago, though, and in 2003 I got a degree in computer science. I guess it was too soon after the dot-com-bust, because I was unable to find a job then.

I loved my job at the radio stations, but in March of 2018 I was let go from my job. Why? Beats me. I think it was because there is a non-existent document that I could not produce. I'll never know for sure.

Anyway, so, I was unemployed for a bit. That was great for my MarioKart game, but not so good for my bank account. I was asking myself, what the heck am I going to do? Radio is a low paying and volatile industry. I had a nice degree, but no experience in that field. So, what to do?

The solution I finally decided on was to attend a coding bootcamp. Those places are well connected, and they have great placement programs. They have to. Plus, it imprinted my resume with skills relevant to today's marketplace. The important part is, it worked.

I got a job as a software developer. I've been there for a few months now. Look on any list of best careers to have, and you'll probably find software developer near the top.

There isn't much else to say. It's been a long trip, but I'm pretty happy. When I first split from my wife, I was working some crappy jobs, wondering what I was actually good for. I really thought my life was going to be horrible forever. Now, I have a great job with a decent future.

I date some, but I honestly cannot ever see myself in a serious relationship. I'm not saying it can't happen, but I don't think it will.

I get along with my ex ok. She has some pretty serious health issues now. Some people would be very angry for the crap she pulled during the divorce, but it isn't within me to stay angry. I have better things to do with my emotions.

God has been so very good to me. If you don't believe in God, that's ok. Some days I struggle with the idea too. But I still thank Him every day. I'm in a good place now.

I'm glad the job and housing stuff worked out. Quite an up and down journey, my friend

I agree about letting anger go - it's too much negativity to be part of your life. And definitely not good for parenting


And I share your sentiments about serious relationships. As I get older (we're about the same age), I have other things to do/pursue/focus on

You said the magic word, Myg. Mostly, I wanted to show the journey.

Anyone who has read the beginning of this thread knows how devastated I was. Then, I got the job at the radio stations, and things got a lot better, Then, my divorce was final, and things got better. There were bumps along the way, but things got progressively better. This is the story of the worst time in my life to one of the best. It took years, but things are pretty good now.

Now I'm wondering if I'm jinxing myself by saying that...

This whole isolation thing is driving me a bit batty, so I guess I'll share my life with you a little more.

Have you ever asked yourself, and tried to answer, some tough questions? For example, if you were going blind, is there any material possession you wouldn't give up in order to keep your eyesight?

Most people don't ask themselves this sort of question. Why would they, unless they had to? It's disturbing. I had to ask myself something like this, though. You see, a few years ago I was losing my ability to walk...

It started one morning in May of 2015. I was about to turn 50. One morning, I woke up, and both feet were asleep. Just a little, but it was definitely there. It was odd, but I didn't give it much thought. It persisted throughout the day, and into the next day, so I did what you shouldn't do and I used a search engine. I typed in my symptoms, and it spit out every neurological disorder known to man, including leprosy. Then I started to get concerned. I mean, I didn't really think I had leprosy, but I typed in my symptoms and one of the results is leprosy!? Holy crap!

So, I made an appointment with a doctor. He basically said "wait and see." I didn't like that, so I saw another doctor. He said I should get an EMG. (An EMG is where they measure the conductivity of your nerves. They do this by sticking a needle at one end of the nerve, sticking another needle at the other end of the nerve, and running a current though the nerve to see how well it conducts electricity. They do this 15 or 20 times. It's just as much fun as it sounds.) The doctor who did my EMG said he suspected my problem was hereditary and I was just going to have to learn to live with it.

I mentioned this started in early May. The tingling in my feet became a numbness. It crept up my feet and into my legs. It appeared in my fingers as well. By mid June, I could barely walk. It hurt to walk, and my legs just didn't work right. A trip to the grocery store was agony. Stairs were hard. Really hard. Imagine if stairs were 12 inches tall, and you had 5 pounds of lead strapped to each foot. I figured I would be in a wheelchair within a year. Showers were scary. I was terrified of falling. I had started keeping a pair of pliers on my refrigerator because I had trouble opening some things.

Then one day, I talked to Amy. Thank God for Amy. Amy worked on the same floor that I did. She worked for a law firm, but she was also a nurse. She did something with their medical cases. I don't know how much money you make if you're both a paralegal and a nurse, but judging by her car, she did ok. Anyway, one day Amy saw me walking funny and asked me what was up. I told her the whole story. She told me to get a referral to a neurologist. She even threatened me if I didn't do it right away. So, I made an appointment with a neurologist. God bless Amy.

I went to see my neurologist, who did a lot of tests, and conducted his own EMG. (Because one isn't enough, I guess.) He told me two things of interest. The first was that it looked like something triggered my immune system so it attacked everything in sight, including my own nerves. The second thing he told me was that there was a treatment that had a high degree of success. I couldn't believe it! It's called IVIG, and you just let the stuff drip into you through an IV. It's very expensive, but my insurance covered it. I hit my max out of pocket with one treatment, though.

My progress was excruciatingly slow, but steady. Almost all of the numbness went away, and I can walk fine now. There is still a little numbness on the bottoms of my feet, but that's it. I can do everything I used to do with no discomfort. (Except stepladders. I won't do stepladders now.)

FYI, I don't know why none of my doctors referred me to a neurologist. They certainly should have. I had never had any health issues before. I didn't know how the game was played, but the doctors did. They could have helped by sending me to a specialist. I don't get it.

Things are much better now, but sometimes I wish I knew where Amy was. I owe her a debt.

By the way, in an earlier post I said this:

2) All divorces become a grabbing game at some point. If your spouse even mentions divorce, immediately go hire an aggressive attorney whose goal is to go after the money. You can bet your spouse will do the same, and you have to try to take everything to get your fair share.

I apologize for this. This is the type of thinking that keeps divorce lawyers in fancy cars. I had a conversation with my ex-wife within the past year where she said that we would have been better off if we'd just divided stuff up and kept the attorneys out of it. This is easier said than done. Emotions are running high in a divorce, and someone is afraid of getting shafted. You have to protect yourself, but just maybe you can do it cheaper (much cheaper!) if you don't bring attorneys into it until the end.

I even invite my ex to my family's gatherings. (When there isn't a pandemic, that is.) I told her that she was always welcome. I told her that we've been apart 9 years, and my family still likes her better then they like me. She'll always be my kids' mom. I heard someone on TV say this, even though I'd like to take credit for it: "Just because we're not married anymore doesn't mean we're not family."

Lance,

Thank God for Amy indeed! really glad you were diagnosed and treated, and that you are now recovering. so odd that your doctors didn't think of sending you to a neurologist... thank God for Amy.

Super cool that you and your ex are on good terms. That's really mature of you.

Hi Ibby! I hope things are going great for you!

I suppose it's called the butterfly effect. Something seemingly inconsequential done by someone far away actually has some effect on your life. It's funny how things happen sometimes.

A couple of years ago, Fleetwood Mac turned 50. They've been around 50 years. Wow. Anyway, Fleetwood Mac released a 50th anniversary CD that I decided I had to have. Who pays money for music anymore? And who buys CDs? I guess I do. It's a 3 CD set, with 50 songs, and I played it a lot. Then, one day, it disappeared...

I was both annoyed and mystified. I searched the car thoroughly. I normally keep the handful of CDs in my car in the console (is that what you call it? the small storage area?) between the front seats. It wasn't there. I made the kids help. The 4 of us searched under floormats, we explored every pocket, we looked in the glove compartment and the trunk. But, it was just gone.

The only explanation I could come up with was that someone had stolen it. Maybe some time I pulled into a convenience store or Taco Bell when I didn't roll my windows up someone had seen it lying on the front seat and grabbed it. I didn't have a better explanation.

Then, some guy's truck in Idaho breaks down. He skateboards to work, drinking Ocean Spray cran-raspberry and lip-synching to Fleetwood Mac. He uploads the video to Tik Tok, and it goes viral. (If you're not familiar with this story, check it out. Ocean Spray gave him a truckload of his cran-raspberry drink, and they gave him the truck as well. I read he recently paid cash for a $350,000 house because of donations. The guy was living in some serious poverty before this. I'm happy for the guy. Good for him.)

So, I discover this guy's video. This really made me miss my Fleetwood Mac CDs. So, that night I ordered a different Fleetwood Mac collection. I didn't order the same thing in case I ever managed to locate the old CDs, although I was sure that would never happen. Target actually had a deal where if you order 2 CDs you get the third one free, so I also got CDs of the Eagles and Heart. It's classic rockapalooza in my car.

That very night, I had a dream. I dreamed I found my lost Fleetwood Mac CDs in the console of my car. Now, I knew they weren't there. I had emptied it out at least twice. There was no way they could be there. I told my daughter about the dream. She told me, "Dad, it's sad that you lost your CDs 4 months ago and you're still dreaming about it." I replied, "Yes, and it's even sadder that I'm going to look again just because I dreamed it!"

So, I go out to my car, and once again proceed to empty out the console. Of course, the CDs aren't there. But, the vinyl (or whatever) on top of the console (the armrest) had begun to fray and split a few years ago, so I had wrapped an old t-shirt around it to protect the top of the armrest. I started feeling up inside the t-shirt, and there was something there! It was my lost Fleetwood Mac CDs! They had worked their way inside the t-shirt and had been suspended inside the console, and above the rest of my CDs.

I couldn't believe it. I took the CDs inside. My jaw was on the floor as I showed my daughter. I have never, ever had anything like this happen to me. I mean, I found them because of a dream!

So, some guy in Idaho makes a video, and I have a dream, and I find my missing Fleetwood Mac CDs. They'd probably still be lost if his truck hadn't broken down. Maybe I should send him a thank you card. It's funny how things happen sometimes.

Oh, and the song the guy was lip-synching to? It was Fleetwood Mac's only number one song - Dreams.

Hey lance! all good - living in Amsterdam suits me, and has freed me from a lot of the drama and negativity in my life back in Manila

And wow...

Awesome that you found your CDs that way so, so cool - a story for the ages

Cool! I'm very glad things are going well in Amsterdam. I was just looking at pictures of Haarlem today, thinking about how much I'd like to visit.

Ooh you would love it. I think you like beer, right? Haarlem has this lovely brewery/bar inside a old church building!

i had a few beers there while basking in the light from the stained glass windows

https://www.jopenkerk.nl/haarlem/en/home-2/

Wonderful synchronicity stories, Lance - the Fleetwood Mac CDs and encountering Amy and solving your health problem.

Thanks for sharing Lance. Great stories and very encouraging to the rest of us.

I am so glad you found a treatment for your health issue. It sounds like you've been able to pay for the ongoing treatment and that's good news, even though from your opening lines it hasn't been cheap and has required some sacrifices in other areas. When we are young and healthy we take it for granted but when that goes away for whatever reason it's incredible value is suddenly made apparent to us.

Is the treatment ongoing still, tapering off, finished, or something you will have to keep up? If so I hope your finances hold out.

Great story about the Fleetwood Mac CDs. I would have been pretty bummed out about losing them too so glad they turned up. Life is weird sometimes, thankfully in good ways on occasion.

I was on the treatment for about a year. Hopefully the condition doesn't recur. My HSA took care of the treatment. It made a serious dent in my HSA, but that's what an HSA is for.

I've never been one for gambling, although I did go to a casino for the first time a few years ago. I didn't go to gamble, I went to pick up a friend. I'll call her Vicky.

Vicky and I dated for a while a few years ago. It kind of fizzled, but we're still friends. One day we were talking on the phone, and she said she was going to the casino with her friend Tammy. She said they were going to stay there all night and drink and gamble and would come home after the sun came up. I told her that if she had too much to drink and needed a ride home, she could call me.

So, shortly before midnight, I start getting texts. She's clearly wasted. Her texts aren't making any sense. I asked her if she wanted me to come get her. She replied, "Yrs." She couldn't even spell "yes" correctly. So, off I go to the casino...

I was about 20 minutes away when she called me.

"Are you coming to get me?"
"Yes, I'm about 20 minutes away."
"I can't find Tammy..."
"It's ok; we'll figure it out when I get there."
"I threw up."
"It's ok, it's a casino, I'm sure they've dealt with that before."

She hung up. 5 minutes late, she calls me again...

"Are you coming to get me?"
"Yes, I'm about 15 minutes away."
"I can't find Tammy..."

We had exactly the same conversation! Goodness, she must have been really impaired. Then, about 5 minutes later, she called me yet again...

"Are you coming to get me?"
"Yes, I'm about 10 minutes away..."

We had exactly the same conversation, for the third time...

So, I finally get to the casino, and I find Vicky passed out on a couch. I wake her up, and she still can't find Tammy. She's done, so she says let's just go. So, I'm driving her home, when she finally gets ahold of Tammy. She told Tammy not to worry, and that she would call a cab for her. Then, she hangs up the phone and goes to sleep. I was hoping Tammy wasn't counting on that cab too much...

I talked to her a few days after that. I asked if she was still friends with Tammy. Or was Tammy still at the casino waiting on that cab? She laughed and told me they had known each other for many years, so Tammy was fine.

She also said, "Do you know why I couldn't find Tammy? I was so drunk I texted everyone in the Ts except for Tammy..."