Expect the unexpected. Always.

* Thin – Obese * Marriage - Divorce * Space – Congestion * Busy - Bored * Health – Illness* Abundance – Poverty * Joy – Misery * Birth – Death *

Life is full of highs and lows. Life can be bright, easy, charming and effortless. Then it gets messy, sticky, ugly and heavy. We laugh and then we cry. We cry and then we laugh again. It’s all in an honest day’s work. We move swiftly or awkwardly through these moments in time and try to catch our breath; moving along dreaming, hoping, planning and organizing for that moment in life when things will finally be smooth sailing. And then the unexpected always happens. Always.

My grandpa died last week just when I was ready to get my life in order. I went into the office on Monday morning bright-eyed and optimistic about the promising opportunities that lie in the start of a fresh new week. I was prepared to create my plan for my envisioned future, organize my files and my closets, manage my social calendar and keep up with the laundry once and for all. Anyone who knows me knows that I live and die by a strict set of OCD-inspired rules that keep me on my toes and focused on the goal at hand. This is how I’ve lived my life. Even choosing a shampoo becomes a complicated task when I begin to question whether or not the shampoo and it’s maker is in line with my life’s purpose. So this whole idea of “getting my life in order” is quite the joke. Rather it’s a constant refinement of “the plan” and a contemplation of what’s next. But then my grandpa died last week and the plan changed, again.

Sitting in his home on Monday, my brother and I looked around at the remains of the things that have accumulated in his life over the years. There were the usual grandparent things: prescription bottles, packages of chocolates, reminders about doctor’s appointments and that day’s newspaper. There were pictures of all the grandchildren from years and years and years ago (like the year my brother and I had matching permed mullets…thanks, mom) and pictures from just this past summer’s baseball outing. There were doilies and needlepoint décor, knickknacks and reading glasses, china and collectables. All these things that accumulated in a lifetime now just sit there waiting to be moved, packed and donated. All this stuff in a lifetime I’m sure were part of his plan or my grandma’s plan in one way or another. These things arrived no doubt because of the people and activities in their lives that celebrated their highs and recognized the lows in their lifetime. But in the end, it’s just stuff. And the stuff will be moved along.

The crocheted placemats, the macramé plant holders, the golf clubs and tools will long be forgotten but the moments around the arrival and purpose of these things will remain. We’ll remember the times that our grandpa brought his tools over to hang a picture or make a simple repair in our homes. We’ll remember those seemingly endless holiday dinners and the placemats that held our meals. The china that kept our coffee warm and our cookies handy over our multiple discussions about the meaning of life will remain in our hearts, and the glimpses of the macramé plant holders that decorated the front porch will flash in our minds as we look back on those warm summer evenings making commentary and observations about how the world has changed over the years. In the end, it is just stuff but it’s the life we build around the stuff that makes it magical, memorable and meaningful.

My grandpa was a no-nonsense kind of guy who really despised all the stuff but he sure loved music and a respectable dance partner. He cherished a strong cup of coffee with my grandma’s cookies and blueberry crepes with lots of whipped cream before church. My grandpa taught me to appreciate a smooth scotch at a celebration and a traditional pizza pie anytime. But even more, he loved an animated discussion, a good joke and a hearty laugh. He thrived on the cultivation of personal relationships that were built around all of the things we accumulate in life over time.

So these things that we have and these plans that we make sometimes get messy. The china gets dirty. The potted plants tip over in the wind and the picture frames sometimes crack. It is in these unexpected moments that we can often expect to find the best. It is often said that funerals bring out the worst in people but I believe that they can also bring out our best. These unexpected moments cause us to stop and pay attention; to step away from the plan for the future and step into the present; to pause and remember. It is in these unexpected moments, the highs and the lows that we are reminded who we are, where we come from and how far we’ve come. Pema Chodren writes: “This very moment is the perfect teacher is really a profound instruction. Just seeing what’s going on – that’s the teaching right there. Awakeness is found in our pleasure and our pain, our confusion and our wisdom. It is available in each moment of our weird, unfathomable, ordinary lives.” These unexpected messy moments transport us away from the drama and frivolity and back to no-nonsense living.

In honor of Jack Yuhas, dance with a good partner. Have a cup of coffee, cookies and crepes with whipped cream. Sip a smooth scotch and eat a piece of pizza. And then tell a joke, have a hearty laugh and an honest heart-to-heart with someone. Anyone. And mark the highs and lows of life and all of the stuff in between.