I mentioned earlier in this autobiography that the Volunteer Spirit Lives On. Today it got a serious workout and, as a bonus, my name did not get involved in any way. Just a chance to chip in, got a ton of thanks, but only one person actually knew my name. At all (thanks for the Hug Wendy!!!!).
So to start I woke up at 2:30 AM. Still can't sleep all the way through a night. My friend Andrea got my kind of hooked on a game (web page based) so I spent a few hours playing that. Then I got dressed and went to Church. Now this is where it gets a touch interesting for me.
I proceeded into Church with the program in my hand and sat down in my popular seat (very Sheldon of me, I know). Introduced myself to the surrounding parishioners and remembered something that I noticed in passing. The function hall ("fellowship hall") speakers were tied into the pulpit's microphone. Or so I assumed. The choir was about to engage in a specific hymn so I rushed out to listen to the speakers to make sure.
Well, yup, the speakers were tied into the pulpit's microphone. This excited me, and relieved me, as there are times when I can't help but cry... publicly... during service. No, I am not ashamed of it at all. Tears from my eyes are critically checked and if the tears are valid, out they pour. However, the awkwardness for me is the overwhelming consideration and concern my Church goes through if they see me crying.
My Church is totally aware of how close I came to dying. Much more so than I am in fact. Their care and love is very comforting yet having to explain, again and again, that I am ok gets me to think about the fact that perhaps I am not okay. That form of thinking leads to depression and how can I tell them that their expressions of love depresses me... some times. (What an ungrateful sod I am.)
So today I got to enjoy Church service no matter how my personal mood was. I listened, oh yeah, and I interacted as if I was right there in service. I sang with the Church, I read the Church litanies right along with them, I even said "This is my prayer", just like a good parishioner at a pulpit, like my brothers and sisters did when it was that time to say that.
As a classy bonus, I used my cell phone to video tape the empty function hall however the audio caught the whole church service upon it. I used the video taking feature to capture the entire hall, the bulletin boards (designed and populated) by fellow parishioners. After I am done this chapter I will then proceed to process the cell phone video and make a DVD out of it for my minister to enjoy (and do whatever he decides with it!).
So that was my morning Church service. Simple enough yet I wound up interacting with a veteran Sailor and sharing stories. Her service was not as satisfying as mine was however, fortunately for her, much much shorter. So I was leaving the Church at 11AM when I decided to make a short detour/side trip. A friend of mine, Brandon, is doing volunteer help at the Dover Children's Museum. He thinks so highly of the experience he has recommended it to me as a means of satisfying my volunteer spirit.
Ran into two.. I'll say problems... problems. The Museum does not open till Noon and parking was tight at Henry Law Park. Today was the American Cancer Society's "Breast Cancer Walk". So here I am trying to get parking when suddenly I am surrounded by walkers being proactive. So I parked and I noticed a place I could help out. One of the traffic lanes, that pedestrians was using, was not being blocked. Traffic was heading, almost gleefully, toward walkers when I just stood in the way and motioned traffic in a safer direction.
Now this impromptu action of mine I kept up for the first leg of the journey. I though the need for me was over and I went to Henry Law Park to find out what was going on. (I know it was worthwhile but I did not know WHAT was actually going on). When I got to the park and snagged a boy scout who brought me up to date when I noticed that the first leg of the journey was almost done. Almost done means the walkers were approaching Foster's Democrat offices and were beginning to cross Washington and Central Streets. Not good peaceful streets, so I leapt into action.
Placing myself in the block the traffic position I gesture the walkers to move forward. When I could I got the approaching walkers to hesitate and stop while traffic went about it's way. I would then hit the "crosswalk" signal, when that activated, I moved the walkers on. This went on for a while.
However at some point a nice young lady, who looked like she knew things, approached and I asked if there was any way I could help. She took me up on that offer. She asked me to be a traffic guard (Imagine that!) for the returnees on the last leg of the journey. So I took control of the intersection (again) and encouraged walkers to safely cross the intersection when the "pedestrian signal" was activated. Therein the walkers wound up being introduced to my "bullhorn". The Army taught me how to sound off - and sound off I did whenever necessary.
After that last leg, I then got in queue ("Q" haha.) and grabbed a slice of pizza. While I chewed the slice I got to go into the Museum and found out that the Volunteer Coordinator does not work Sundays. I then went back outside ran into the tired Staffer. Checked in, like a good soldier will do, and found out that the "officer" no longer needed me for any purpose. I then got back into my car, 3 hours later, and drove home; having never given anyone my name.
At one point I did notice a Foster's photographer grabbing snapshots of me. I wonder how generic my description will be. Especially given the fact that I only accidentally found the event. I spent last Saturday walking 5k for the CropWalk (which I still have to complete paperwork on!!!) and had made no plans for this level of activity. Yet I found myself sufficient to the task(s).
"HELP" was the prayer on my lips the entire time. Every time I thought I was done, here is another task. This day was definitely made by the Lord. Maybe not for me, perhaps, however I kept him in my heart and faced what weather came my way. Ironically, it was a hugely enjoyable experience.
So to start I woke up at 2:30 AM. Still can't sleep all the way through a night. My friend Andrea got my kind of hooked on a game (web page based) so I spent a few hours playing that. Then I got dressed and went to Church. Now this is where it gets a touch interesting for me.
I proceeded into Church with the program in my hand and sat down in my popular seat (very Sheldon of me, I know). Introduced myself to the surrounding parishioners and remembered something that I noticed in passing. The function hall ("fellowship hall") speakers were tied into the pulpit's microphone. Or so I assumed. The choir was about to engage in a specific hymn so I rushed out to listen to the speakers to make sure.
Well, yup, the speakers were tied into the pulpit's microphone. This excited me, and relieved me, as there are times when I can't help but cry... publicly... during service. No, I am not ashamed of it at all. Tears from my eyes are critically checked and if the tears are valid, out they pour. However, the awkwardness for me is the overwhelming consideration and concern my Church goes through if they see me crying.
My Church is totally aware of how close I came to dying. Much more so than I am in fact. Their care and love is very comforting yet having to explain, again and again, that I am ok gets me to think about the fact that perhaps I am not okay. That form of thinking leads to depression and how can I tell them that their expressions of love depresses me... some times. (What an ungrateful sod I am.)
So today I got to enjoy Church service no matter how my personal mood was. I listened, oh yeah, and I interacted as if I was right there in service. I sang with the Church, I read the Church litanies right along with them, I even said "This is my prayer", just like a good parishioner at a pulpit, like my brothers and sisters did when it was that time to say that.
As a classy bonus, I used my cell phone to video tape the empty function hall however the audio caught the whole church service upon it. I used the video taking feature to capture the entire hall, the bulletin boards (designed and populated) by fellow parishioners. After I am done this chapter I will then proceed to process the cell phone video and make a DVD out of it for my minister to enjoy (and do whatever he decides with it!).
So that was my morning Church service. Simple enough yet I wound up interacting with a veteran Sailor and sharing stories. Her service was not as satisfying as mine was however, fortunately for her, much much shorter. So I was leaving the Church at 11AM when I decided to make a short detour/side trip. A friend of mine, Brandon, is doing volunteer help at the Dover Children's Museum. He thinks so highly of the experience he has recommended it to me as a means of satisfying my volunteer spirit.
Ran into two.. I'll say problems... problems. The Museum does not open till Noon and parking was tight at Henry Law Park. Today was the American Cancer Society's "Breast Cancer Walk". So here I am trying to get parking when suddenly I am surrounded by walkers being proactive. So I parked and I noticed a place I could help out. One of the traffic lanes, that pedestrians was using, was not being blocked. Traffic was heading, almost gleefully, toward walkers when I just stood in the way and motioned traffic in a safer direction.
Now this impromptu action of mine I kept up for the first leg of the journey. I though the need for me was over and I went to Henry Law Park to find out what was going on. (I know it was worthwhile but I did not know WHAT was actually going on). When I got to the park and snagged a boy scout who brought me up to date when I noticed that the first leg of the journey was almost done. Almost done means the walkers were approaching Foster's Democrat offices and were beginning to cross Washington and Central Streets. Not good peaceful streets, so I leapt into action.
Placing myself in the block the traffic position I gesture the walkers to move forward. When I could I got the approaching walkers to hesitate and stop while traffic went about it's way. I would then hit the "crosswalk" signal, when that activated, I moved the walkers on. This went on for a while.
However at some point a nice young lady, who looked like she knew things, approached and I asked if there was any way I could help. She took me up on that offer. She asked me to be a traffic guard (Imagine that!) for the returnees on the last leg of the journey. So I took control of the intersection (again) and encouraged walkers to safely cross the intersection when the "pedestrian signal" was activated. Therein the walkers wound up being introduced to my "bullhorn". The Army taught me how to sound off - and sound off I did whenever necessary.
After that last leg, I then got in queue ("Q" haha.) and grabbed a slice of pizza. While I chewed the slice I got to go into the Museum and found out that the Volunteer Coordinator does not work Sundays. I then went back outside ran into the tired Staffer. Checked in, like a good soldier will do, and found out that the "officer" no longer needed me for any purpose. I then got back into my car, 3 hours later, and drove home; having never given anyone my name.
At one point I did notice a Foster's photographer grabbing snapshots of me. I wonder how generic my description will be. Especially given the fact that I only accidentally found the event. I spent last Saturday walking 5k for the CropWalk (which I still have to complete paperwork on!!!) and had made no plans for this level of activity. Yet I found myself sufficient to the task(s).
"HELP" was the prayer on my lips the entire time. Every time I thought I was done, here is another task. This day was definitely made by the Lord. Maybe not for me, perhaps, however I kept him in my heart and faced what weather came my way. Ironically, it was a hugely enjoyable experience.
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