Check The Vitals

With my $50 guitar in hand, I was just seconds from taking the stage at The Bluebird Cafe.

Finally.

“Lindsay!” The urgency in Cody’s voice woke me in an instant.

A really poorly timed instant.

It was dark in our room. I opened my eyes wide but didn’t even look at the clock.

"Yeah?" I responded.

“K,” was all he whispered, rolling back over on his side.

I drifted back to sleep but The Bluebird didn’t wait for me.

And to think: We would have paid off the farm in an instant if I could have just sung one rendition of Strawberry Wine. I have, after all, been practicing for twenty years (take a moment to let that sink in).

Sleep came easy and it seemed like just seconds before he pulled the stunt again.

“Lindsay!” The urgency in Cody’s voice woke me in an instant.

It was dark in our room. I opened my eyes wide but didn’t even look at the clock.

“Yeah?” I responded.

“K,” was all he whispered, rolling back over on his side.

I’ve been told I’ve become a mouth breather in the last couple weeks. Not a snorer, but rather a mouth breather "louder than a 454 big block"- what ever that means.  And while I’m annoyed and in denial just hearing of this development, I have to trust my sources. Apparently Cody woke up twice last night and didn’t hear me breathing, so he decided to startle me awake to check my vitals. There are easier ways to do things (I suggested gently checking my pulse, holding his hand an inch over my mouth to feel for breath, lying in the quiet dark for five seconds and listening, etc.), but everyone seems to do what they think is right in certain situations, I guess.

While it was a shoddy night of rest, I’m grateful for a husband who doesn’t want to sleep next to a dead person.

This middle-of-the-night fiasco reminded me of someone I haven’t checked on in a while.

Someone who – I’ll admit – doesn’t enter my mind often, but when they do I feel a bit of a sting. They are a shining example of how I let time and distance drive a wedge in communication and I’ve frankly lost touch with them.

I don’t call to check on them. 

I don’t shoot them a text or an email. 

If memory serves me right (45% chance these days) I sent them a hand written note last summer because I felt the lack-of-communication sting, and that was the last of our correspondence.

No hard feelings, no fall out.

But rather, worse: No effort at all.

Which is a shame; they were a good lesson and good person in my life.

An old co-worker.

An industry mentor.

An aging grandparent.

A previous neighbor.

The one who takes you back to that tumultuous time in your life.

An old business partner.
That once-stranger on your old morning commute to the city. 

A teacher, maybe not even the kind who stood at the front of the class. 

A college roommate.

An acquaintance that changed things.

Your parent.

There is someone who could use a vitals check from you.

A hello.

A “I was just thinking of you…”

A sign that they're thought of every so often.

Do you have that person in mind?

Find them.

Write them.

Call them.

Email them.

Text them.

Do something to let them know they’re still significant enough to cross a mind now and then.

Your mind. 

But might I suggest waiting until daylight until you do your vitals check? 
Waiting until everyone is awake and aware of their surroundings just makes for a better morning, for everyone.