Attending A Memorial...

Ever since I began telecommuting two years ago, I find myself--more and more--actually wanting to stay home. This pandemic gives me a built-in excuse to avoid activities. This past week an opportunity to attend my grade school friend's viewing came up. Aside from the fact that Jeff and I had only connected via Facebook over the past couple of years, it's a funeral. You're literally gathering because someone else can't be there. Plus, I don't really know his family, his kids, his new wife. I wondered if I should even go.

I missed the viewing the night before--I did have a meeting that I could have gotten out of. I didn't--I attended the meeting. Since I didn't work the day of the last viewing and funeral, I knew I could attend. Still, something was stopping me, causing me to second-guess going.

Then, I logged onto Facebook.

Like most people, I have high school friends all over the globe. Ever since the news of Jeff's passing hit, classmates have offered condolences. On the day of the funeral, two friends mentioned how great a guy Jeff was, how they mourned with the family, and both said they wished they could attend the funeral but both were unable to do so.

That's what changed my mind.

Here I was, fifteen minutes from the funeral home and having nothing else to do during the viewing--I decided to go because of dear friends who could not.

When I entered, the only person I knew was Jeff. I spotted his family members, but they didn't know me. I got in line to pay my respects. That's when I ran into another friend who I had not seen in decades. I'm glad he recognized me because if he and I walked by each other outside on the street, there's no way I'd have recognized him. Derek and I chatted, caught up. I met his wife and we talked about things you talk about when you haven't seen someone for a long time.

Our time came to say good-bye. I met Jeff's wife. She thanked me for my blog post, something I was glad to do. I'm happy so many people enjoyed it. She then said something about how life was not going to be easy without him. When she said that and I saw her standing next the the casket of her husband, it reminded me of my mom and when she said good-bye to her husband and my father. My dad passed away months shy of his fiftieth birthday. It was not easy for my mom, either.

As I left, I ran into a good friend of Jeff's, Brad and his wife. After that, came two more high school friends, one of which attended elementary, jr. high, and high school with Derek, Jeff, and I. We caught up and even though I knew hardly anyone else there, I felt like I was with family, people with shared experiences, memories that span almost half a century.

I couldn't stay for the funeral service--I had a meeting I could not get out of, but I am so glad I went to the viewing. The experience confirmed my belief that humans are social animals and that we need each other--when we celebrate and when we grieve. Thanks to Sean and Travis for changing my mind. Thanks to Derek, Carlene, Ronny, Brad, and most of all, Jeff, for reminding me of how amazing a life I've had because I know so many incredible people.

So...I Guess I'm Invited To Join A BYU Faculty Intramural Team

Some time ago--maybe even last year--I was tagged in a Facebook photo, a photo I was not in. Obviously someone confused for someone else.

And I think I even untagged myself and let whoever posted the picture know that I was not the Scott, or the Scott Taylor they were looking for. I did this so the correct Scott or Scott Taylor could be identified in the picture.

Turns out, the photo mix-up has morphed into the realm of electronic mail. This week I got an e-mail addressed to me and fourteen others with the simple question:

Who's in for playing another faculty intramural team this fall?

And here I was bummed I missed out on making the BYU faculty intramural team last fall.

There is one connection to me and the list of BYU faculty members. A childhood friend, one of my first best friends, teaches at BYU and is included on the e-mail list. We've corresponded via social media, but not much. He lives south, has his own growing family, and a solid career. I'm sure if we ran into each other, we'd catch up and maybe (maybe...) share some old memories, memories that get older each year, but we're so different. We've lived different lives.

And then you get an e-mail with your name and his name on it. And it did remind me of a time, decades in the past, when both he and I were on the same sports team. He was a good player; I languished in left field (the outfield where statistically the least amount of balls are hit to...). 

If things were different, if I were on the BYU faculty, I'd be eligible to participate in (another...) BYU faculty intramural team this fall. So, to Mikle, David, (the real Scott Taylor, Mike, Michael, Timothy, Frank, Marc, Brian, Stewart, Erik, Robert, Jeff, Larkin, and Daryl, I'm sorry I won't be with you to battle the worthy BYU faculty intramural teams--how I would like to do so. And even though I can't, it's nice that a misrouted e-mail brought back a nice memory.

Play tough, Kerry! Play true! Play for BYU! (faculty...)