Hugh Hollowell

The Mullis’ attend Visio Dei church here in Raleigh, which is where I met them. Right now, their newborn son Ethan is living on a ventilator and a pacemaker.  If you are the praying kind, I would appreciate it if you would say some prayers for little Ethan, as well as his parents. You can follow along or drop them well wishes on his mom’s blog at Signs of Life.

This is sort of out of character for me. I generally don’t share much about my personal life on these pages, but, while there is no danger of my turning into John, I do have to say I had an awesome Valentine’s Day weekend.

Renee and I had dinner out on Friday, then I made supper at home on Saturday, we swapped gifts (I got this awesome handmade 10 page card/book and tons of Dark Chocolate) and then we went out for ice cream! (I got cookies and cream, she got chocolate fudge).

It was a very good weekend indeed. How was yours?

(Renee tells her side of the story with considerable more detail and pictures on her blog)

I am always amazed when I know people from different social circles, yet they already know each other…

First, a warning: this post will not make sense to most of you. Just go with it, OK?

Once upon a time, I knew this guy. He owned a small business, just like I did. And just like I did, he struggled to make ends meet. And we would talk about it, and talking about it would lead to talking about other things and one day, we realized we were friends.

It was that very male friendship; for example, we would talk about our significant others, but never managed to get them in a room together. There were many more things like that, but we, the two of us, were friends. He would struggle with his kids and we would talk about it. I would struggle with the relationship I was in at the time and we would talk about it. And when that relationship I was in went to hell in a handcart, he was there–never sappy but there, nonetheless.

One thing we talked about often and agreed on was how bad Memphis had become. We were both, as I said, business owners and both had once had dreams of writing for a living. Like kindred spirits, we both dreamed of leaving Memphis and pursuing our dreams.

One day, I did just that. I remember telling him I was finally moving and seeing a combination of what I took to be happiness for me and frustration for him. Our relationship changed a bit that day… after that, it was almost as if we were afraid to invest any more into it, knowing I was not going to be around.

So, I left, and started writing again and now write a fair amount for pay and am living my dream and rarely think about Memphis and even more rarely write anyone there because I am a horrible corespondent.

But I still read his blog, because once we were very close and I have always wanted the sort of family he has, and I live vicariously through his parental joy. I do not know this, but suspect that he no longer reads mine, as I talk a good deal about faith, which is a topic he has little use for. But honestly, I just do not know.

The other day he announced on his blog that he has sold his business and is now going to try his hand at freelance writing full-time. I know him, and know how scary this is going to be for him, and how much anxiety this is going to cause him, and how much he will enjoy it and how this is what he was made to do.

The one thing he does not know, unless he still does read my blog, is how very proud I am of him for living his dream. If you are reading this, RJA, you inspire me. Keep up the good fight.

Yesterday was Renee’s birthday and, honestly, it was not going so well. You see, she was in the hospital after a weekend of scary heart issues and she was a bit depressed at the prospect of spending her birthday in the hospital.

Around noon, some friends of our stopped by and that cheered her up. Then the doctor came by and told her she could go home, and that really cheered her up.

As we were packing up to leave, some friends called and said they were coming by the hospital, but I told them we were leaving, so they planned to come by my house instead. We are not home long, when they show up, complete with birthday cake and ice cream and presents and birthday cards. Renee was glowing at this point…

And then, some more friends dropped in to see her (and eat birthday cake and ice cream) and then more friends stopped by and brought more cake and hugs and well wishes. And while all this was happening a friend who had been out of town called to say she was dropping by the hospital on her way home, and we gave her the good news.

After everyone left, we went out to eat at one of Renee’s favorite restaurants and then stopped at a coffee shop and reflected over a latte at how awesome our friends are. As we pulled up in my driveway, the friend who had been out of town pulled up behind us and came up and we all sat, and laughed and reflected and laughed some more and played with kittens. When she left, Renee turned to me and gave me a big hug and told me that this had ended up being her best birthday ever.

The remarkable thing about all of this is that none of it was planned or coordinated. It all just happened out of genuine love and affection for us. That is the value of community.

To all our friends who emailed, prayed, visited, brought cake, ate cake, called and visited… thank you for making my girl’s birthday special and thank you very much for loving us.

So, today I am sitting at Helios, my second favorite coffee shop in Raleigh, NC, talking to my friend Abby and generally avoiding work that I should be doing when we discovered that we lived about two blocks apart from each other when I lived in Memphis.

In addition, while she lived there she took a picture of my bookstore/coffee shop in Midtown (although she never came in… which, multiplied by about 150 people a month, explains why I no longer own said bookstore/coffee shop…)

Photo Credit: Abby Ladybug

The downside of all the social networks is the amount of time they take. I find an old friend on Facebook or Myspace and then I have to bring them up to date on the last 15 years or whatever. I like finding old friends; the amount of time this takes is amazing, however.

I have adjusted well to living here in Raleigh. The weather is nice, the people are friendly and while they don’t eat real bar-b-que, overall the food is good. However, last week I had a huge, overwhelming feeling of homesickness.

I smelled honeysuckle.

I had commented several times on how I had not seen any honeysuckle here. Back home, it is everywhere. Last week, however, I almost fell off my bike when I saw (and smelled) a whole fence row full of it.

My favorite honeysuckle memory: I am about 12 years old. My friend (and virtual sister) Jo and I are out exploring and we decide to walk up Gatewood road to see the pond on the Thompson’s place. Mind you, we had no fishing equipment, but just seeing a pond had to count for something. Anyway…

There was a stretch of maybe 200 yards where both sides of the road were lined with honeysuckle. The smell was a lot like heaven, and Jo and I were sucking the honey out of the flowers. We never did make it to the pond that day; we were captivated by the honeysuckle.