Joe's Corner

It's the Little Things

Dear Friends,

With the approaching holidays, I wanted to share a personal note with you. Last month I attended a mortgage seminar in North Carolina -- the place of my roots on my father's side of the family. As the plane descended to the airport, I recalled the summer vacations my family would spend driving from Texas to North Carolina to visit my grandmother, aunt, uncle and cousins. Life was simpler then, but as we all grew older -- and busier -- the visits became less frequent and eventually stopped. Almost 30 years later, I can still picture the towering trees on the small college campus where my aunt and uncle were professors.

Walking down the hall of the "assisted living" center where my aunt and uncle now have a small apartment surrounded by other retired faculty members, my cousin tells me that my uncle's mental status has deteriorated the last few years. He rarely communicates with anyone other than my aunt and spends most of his time in front of the television with the sound off and the radio on. When I walked into the room he remained fixed, as if in a trance. I was in the middle of "catching up" on 29 years when I noticed the green people and the static hissing sound. To an old musician, this is like fingernails on a chalkboard. In a minute I had adjusted the color on the TV to perfect skin tones, the roses were red, the sky was blue. Then I made a 10 foot section of wire into a simple antennae, connected it to the radio and the static left the room, uncovering my uncle's favorite classical music station.

Having taken care of the technical problems, I proposed a telephone "reunion" with my mom and dad back in Texas. Using the speakerphone in the bedroom, we were soon talking as if it had only been 29 days ago, instead of years. All of a sudden, my uncle got out of his chair and walked slowly into the room. He listened for a few minutes, then began a conversation with my parents. It was brief, but coherent and witty, just like I had remembered him. Later, when I'm leaving the apartment with my cousin, my uncle comments that I "had a lot more hair the last time I saw you". My aunt and we all laugh, and she gives me a wink, then a hug.

As the plane leaves the ground and heads home to Texas, I thought about how family and the little things matter. Just a simple, sincere gesture can make a big difference in someone's life.

I wish you and your family, near and far, a wonderful holiday season and a renewed awareness of all the "little things" that can make life fulfilling.

Sincerely,

Joe Brown