The impact of a life…. STORY TIME

Today I went to visit “an old friend”…. actually, I grave hopped and visited my parents and an old high school friend who died 6 months to the day after her 18th birthday… I needed a day of pause and to reflect and just … be…

On my list always…is this guy…. George M. Lee… Born in 1892 and died in November of 1979 at the ripe old age of 87. I am more than confident that I am the ONLY one who still visits him (multiple times a year). Today was the first day I laid a flower because I’m usually “popping by” because I am in the area. He also doesn’t have a flower holder because again… I’m likely the only one to visit…

But I digress… It is amazing to me that you still learn about yourself as you grow older. We are ever-evolving and as we go through life, we go through moments that make us reflect, and in those moments we realize things that we may have never thought of…

I know I have written about George before; he’s one of the most poignant men in my life aside from my dad, but the contrast between the two is great…

I met George when I was 5 years old. Back in the day 1974 to be exact, we kids walked to and from school … usually alone unless we had siblings, and even then if they had friends you were left to fend for yourself. It was a no-brainer back then, being latchkey kids…

My walk to and from my elementary school was past (probably the last of) an orange grove. From the school home, the grove was to my right, and at the end of the grove were two homes… a single-story that had little life about it … and then a two-story that was literally over the wall from my house. I will never forget the day I met George … he used to sit in his garage with his wife Ruth and watch the kids pass by. His large ’70s car was parked to the left … he and Ruth in their lawn chairs to the right… (George sat on the left and Ruth to his right)…

I remember the day I met, I looked over, and there they were as cute as could be – this sweet elderly couple with smiles. Their driveway was medium long, you could probably park two cars deep, but for a 5-year-old it was long… I walked up to them and said hi. George spoke first and I asked him his name… I remember looking at ‘the lady’ and pointing to her and saying, “Who’s that?” and he told me her name. From that time on they were my friends and I would see them every day as I passed by to go home.

Now… to get to my house from his, we either had to walk down the side of his house and climb the wall…or we had to walk down the street to the neighborhood and walk around (and that just took too long… ) so we would throw our stuff over the wall and climb into our back yard…

Shortly after meeting George, I was on my way home, and as I walked down the side of his house… instead of jumping…I saw a ladder there. White, old, chipped … and the sweetest gesture a gentleman could make. From that day on we climbed the ladder to get to our house.

I was the one of all five of us kids that took to him the most. My little brother would come over as well at times, but I was just taken with George and Ruth’s kindness so I would visit often.

One day, I was climbing over the wall from my backyard… I saw George and we talked… I said, “Where is Ruth” and he said “She passed away”… I didn’t know what that was, so I said, “Will she be back?” … and he said “No”. I said, “Okay” and went about my business. I was 6 yrs old then with no real concept of death.

After that, I would go to Georges’s house whenever I wanted and I would sometimes bring my friend Elle (who is the other grave I visited today) and we would sit and play or talk or eat candy …just whatever we wanted. George’s house was so safe and quiet and he enjoyed the company. He used to offer us Planters Peanut Bars and some other weird candy I would have to look up. I liked the peanut bars but not the other …

He was the grandpa I never had, because my actual grandparents were across the country and I never got time with them… George fit the bill and exceeded is as far as I was concerned…

As I got a little older, I would play with my friends more and see George less. I would skip his house on Halloween for the houses that had big candy bars or top ramen that I could stuff in the pillow case I carried (for sheer volume reasons)… I remember George would be disappointed, telling me he saved me an apple… As a kid, I thought, “An apple?… ewww”…. I didn’t realize what I had probably become to him as he was an elderly gentleman with no kids and I never saw anyone visit. I wish I had known then what I know now who I was to him!

Right around Thanksgiving in 1979, I was passing by George’s house and a car in the driveway with two adults were in his driveway. I looked at them curious and said, “Are you here to see George?”. I will never forget this scene in my head as it has played out a million times at least… The lady (on the passengers side of the vehicle) looked across to the man on the driver’s side, across the roof with a look on her face that I now understand… after a few seconds she looked back to me and said, “George passed away honey, didn’t you know?”

By this time I knew what “passing away” meant… I looked at them both and said, “Okay thank you” and I turned to go home. I climbed over my wall on the ladder George had placed for us and I had tears streaming down my face … I walked with such determination to get to my dad (I was 10 yrs old) and I was afraid he would “shush me” and I remember thinking I will tell him to shut up and share the news… But I walked down the hall to his room where he was watching football… I said, “Dad?” … he said, “Ya babe” … I said, “George died” … and my dad did something he never did… he turned off the TV and said, “God dammit” because he saw me crying and knew this was a big deal..

I honestly don’t remember anything after that; the memory just goes blank… But the pain in that moment has never left me.

So… why do I visit him so much even though it’s been so long? Well that’s a great question… The truth is my family and upbringing was chaotic. I was one of 5 kids, so I was lost in the shuffle. I was good at disappearing from any turmoil and finding places of solace. George was literally the first place in my life where it was complete peace, quiet, acceptance and love with not one bad thing happening. George Lee was my safe place. There was no yelling; I was always the most important thing when I was there, and if I wanted to grab his top-hat and cane and pretend to tap dance just to entertain him, he would smile and tell me I was wonderful.

I could steal any fruit I wanted from his orchard and he was fine with it. His orchard was an enchanted forest where I lived many storylines … I knew that place like the back of my hand and could tell you where every tree was planted and what they were… you want pomegranates, they are over there…peaches… follow me… persimmons …what the hell is a persimmon?? Well, according to George they are wonderful to eat, only they looked weird so I never had one… the tree was off his driveway …

But fun fact… today before I went to the graves, I stopped and bought flowers at a local produce stand … and guess what they had ready to eat? Persimmons… I bought one in honor of George… I almost put it on his grave but decided to take it home and give it a whirl… I have had one before but they are still weird to me.

So what is the impact of a life? Welp… I know it varies from person to person but in this case… This man had me crying HARD for 20 years after his passing, asking for his forgiveness that I didn’t visit more toward the end. This is a man who took the chaos of my childhood and made it quiet. He made me realize there is always quiet in the storm if you look in the right places. He taught me that I am enough..bad tap dancing and all… He showed me with one ladder that a small effort on one side, can make life easier for someone on the other… I learned that a ladder is a gesture of love…and that ladder lifted me up and kept me safe. I learned that you don’t HAVE to give to receive, but also that the smallest gift of time with someone can have great rewards. I learned that there is no time limit on grief… as I sat with him today 45 years after his passing, I still cried… I apologized yet again for not seeing his worth at that time … but I think he knows. And I think he is fine with it…

I learned we are never totally healed. The scars will always remain, but they will fade as time goes on. Scars are nothing to be ashamed of… they are signs of growth if we honor them correctly…

The bottom line is this… we never know the impact we have on anyone. If you are lucky to have communication about it, that is wonderful… but everyone is fighting a battle on some level, and your kind gesture could be the one thread that keeps them together for that day or maybe longer…

I know Gandhi said to be the change you want to see in the world, but I say to be the GOOD you want to see in the world. Kindness wins always …

I’m forever grateful to Mr. George M. Lee. That man has made the strongest impact on my life in only 5 yrs time and I will cherish every visit I get with him, even if it’s only with his headstone… He made a huge difference in my life and continues to bless me to this day!