Today is the 60th birthday of the first woman I ever fell in love with as an adult.
We loved each other… and then it ended.
That is when my Oldman gave me something that stuck…
…very few people in this world think you’re special. When you find those people, you keep them around.
That is the whole game right there. You need to figure out who actually thinks you are special.
Sure… parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, they count, but they have to because they are family.
But friends come and go. Lovers come and go. Mentors, teachers, neighbors… people pass through your life like traffic on Harlem Avenue.
But which ones really saw you?
Which ones thought highly of you?
When you figure that out, those are your people. Those are the ones you hold onto.
It was a theory my dad lived by, and it is one I carry forward.
There was a stretch where my 60-year-old friend and I weren’t close, but I stayed after it and over time, we built something again.
She is someone special to me and I believe that feeling runs both ways.
She has seen it all, my marriage, the kids and the divorce. She is so woven into my life, she’s George’s godmother.
The Oldman was right. There aren’t many people left who think I’m all that special. Many have passed on.
Who is left?
A few cousins. A couple of aunts and uncles. Maybe a handful of friends. Maybe a colleague or two. Even my mother-in-law still likes me… which says something, considering her daughter does not.
And sure, a few of the women from both chapters of my bachelorhood still think I’m alright.
That’s the Don Shepley theory.
He took it one step further: “If a woman has seen you naked, you sure as hell better not burn that bridge, son.”
There is wisdom in that, whether you like it or not.
Now it’s my job to teach the Shepkids. How to meet people. How to know the difference between a friend and an acquaintance…
…And most importantly, how to recognize and hold onto the Someone Special group.
Because our time together is short and this isn’t all that complicated.
You keep those people in your life until one of you is gone. Then you deal with the fact that there is one less person in this world who thinks you are special.
I am lucky that I still have one of mine.
Someone who thinks I’m special, and I feel the same way about her.
Happy Birthday, Weavie.
Our love changed shape, but we never lost each other. And we won’t, at least not until one of us finds eternal peace.
You are the definition of Someone Special Day. The Oldman loved you. He told me to work my ass off to keep you close.
If you ever think about the days when I was an assclown, just remember…
…God gave me a redheaded daughter to settle that score.
The Someone Special Theory. Reach out today to those who think you are someone special and let them know.
