Lockets and Headlocks

This locket belonged to my grandma. It wasn’t Grandma’s favorite piece of jewelry, nor her most valuable.  I don’t even really remember her wearing it, to tell you the truth.

But it doesn’t matter.  I know it was hers, and it reminds me of her, much the way the smell of my current hand lotion reminds me of her.  The lotion is not especially effective, but I keep using it because of its scent. And, to tell you the whole truth, I don’t even know if it is a scent she actually wore. But every time I get a whiff of it, I smile and think of her.  And that’s all that really matters, right?

The locket was empty when I received it.  So I printed pictures of Baylor and Ryan, and I popped them into the necklace.  Now, I can keep both my grandma and my kiddos close to my heart on a literal level (They were always there figuratively, of course!).

While I try to be aware of what I have in the moment, we all know that it is a very hard trick to pull off. Thus, the cliché – and the awesome ’80s ballad by Cinderella – “Don’t Know What You Got, Till It’s Gone.” When you are a kid, you simply cannot comprehend that your grandparents won’t always be around.  Just like you don’t really believe that you will ever become a grown-up with grey hair and meal plans and credit scores. As a child, every summer feels at least twelve adult years long (Yes, adult years are a thing.  It’s kind of like dog years.  But way shorter.  And more stressful.). Life stretches out before our young selves, seeming nearly infinite in both its length and possibilities.

Except then it’s not.  Someone close to you passes away. Or you get sick.  Or time just plain passes.  And you realize that things won’t always be as they are now.  You will lose people. You will gain experience.  It will all serve to mold and change you.

I’m coming off a little philosophical here, huh?  I’m sorry for that, guys. See, my uncle passed away last week.  Uncle Tom was a pretty amazing man. He was a lot of things to a lot of people.  Dad, husband, grandfather, brother, pastor, teacher, coach, friend, and, in my case, uncle. As his wife, my Aunt Carolyn, said, she loved him for everything he did for her, but even more so for everything he did for everyone else.  And that, my friends, is the best legacy one can ever hope to leave.

Speaking of legacies, Uncle Tom wrote and published a memoir.  He’s even on Amazon. How cool is that? Here’s the synopsis of Living A Dream with Coach Gate from the website: “This is the story of Tom Applegate, a Quaker pastor who decided he could best serve humanity by teaching in the city.  Growing up in Spiceland, a small town in east central Indiana, he developed a Hoosier passion for basketball.  Having very little success as a player in high school did not dampen his enthusiasm for the sport.” And that is very much what Uncle Tom was about – dedicating himself to others and pressing on despite adversity. Luckily, he had a touch of “Applegate stubbornness” to help spur him along.

Uncle Tom seemed to think a lot of me, and for some reason he believed that I was going to do good things in the world.  Note: I never once said he had good judgment.  The fact is, I’m nowhere near his league and never will be (Except when it comes to being stubborn. I have that piece down.).  Maybe I can try to be a little more like him, though. Because the world would be a better place if we were all a little more like Uncle Tom.

Throughout my life, Uncle Tom invariably greeted me with a headlock and a noogie.  He may have been altruistic, but he was darn ornery, too.  And I may have also provoked him just a little bit. Because I am also ornery. I remember believing that he would always welcome me via good-natured violence, and that he would always, always be stronger than me.

I was wrong, of course. I remember when I realized he wasn’t stronger than me any longer. It was a rude awakening.  It was world-shifting. But don’t worry, I didn’t then give him a noogie in retaliation for all those years of assaults. I said I was ornery, not heartless.

During my last phone call with Uncle Tom, he told me how much he loved reading my blog.  Again, I’m not claiming he had great judgment.  In any event, this one is for you, Uncle Tom.

Folks, this week I am especially grateful for time spent with my relatives, and also for cherished memories of them – whether those memories involve lockets or headlocks.