“Same thing. Just a bit different, is all.” This was the summary of my column last week by an uncle.
“Nobody was fooled by that ‘cardinal countin’ silliness. Same thing, as I said. Just sorta different!” He liked the column, “mostly” because it was about a cousin.
He went on for awhile about how one could use varying names and fluctuating terminology for what superficially appear the very same. Called it “putting lipstick on a pig and calling it a pony” when used to make something appear better than it really is.
“Swapping turnips for ‘taters’” when changing words merely for the sake of changing them. “All fry up pretty much the same. Lots of butter and sugar and no one’ll care!”
All this came round to mind while I was in the midst of celebrating Ground Hog Day; watching the Bill Murray movie while feasting on “Sausage Stars.” A friend posted on social media what Feb. 2 meant to her.
For this young lady, who honored me many years ago with allowing me to officiate at her wedding, it will always be “John Yeller” Day! While merely a “pup” herself—around three-years of age—the red-colored hound that would become her companion for nearly two decades was born.
Even after the hound’s passing, her father would call each year and wish her a day of celebration and great memories. “Happy John Yeller Day,” he would convey. Not this year, as he had passed himself just weeks ago.
Now, I imagine I will see this particular day in a different way. Sometimes, a little bit of change brings about much larger transformation. And sometimes, it goes unnoticed by most.
I greeted a friend in a store parking lot during this recent snow. Exchanged pleasantries. Went our separate ways. But, a simple hug from her a bit more than a year ago will leave this person holding a very special place in my heart.
Due to some health issues, I had to self-quarantine myself the majority of last winter. No humans within twenty feet. No one in my house, save for my wife (luckily also my best friend); no one in a car or truck. I went more than twenty-weeks without so much as a handshake. Pretty much stayed holed up at home.
Finally, after months of chemicals and drugs in my body and bloodstream; I was good to go. Could reenter the civilized world. Actually, went to a store to do some shopping. Encountered this young lady in an aisle. Surprised to see me, she just naturally gave me a hug.
I am a hugger as is she. A kindly gesture between two friends. But—to me, a reconnection to the world! It was in many ways, like I had been reborn. I am much less a lone-wolf than I would like to pretend. I thrive on personal relationships. I am blessed with many. Her’s—I will always especially treasure.
In just a few days, there will be another holiday. One I celebrate yearly. With my wife. With relatives and friends. But it is the day after I also enjoy. It is Happy ______ Day! A dear person who one year ago, had a rough Valentine’s Day. So, we sent her flowers and candy the next day.
Have done so now for some time. Now, she is happily engaged. So, perhaps no longer flowers from us. Still, our love and prayers.
Groundhog Day. John Yeller Day. A simple hug. A new lease on life. An invented holiday. Same. Different.
