It’s hard to tell all the stories, but not because I have difficulty sharing them. My concern is for the other humans involved. I am but a minor player in most of my tales. There are others present, and I need to respect them when I share with you, the reader.
I have some in-person signings with the new book coming out this week (and I hope you pick up a copy). Signings typically bring out the folks who read my missives regularly. But it can also be a time for old friends to visit me in my new role as a retiree.
Some of my former acquaintances and I were not always on friendly terms; we most likely met during a difficult time in their life. However, I still want to see them again someday. Often, the better terms come with passing years, introspection, and the lack of barriers such as badges, gunbelts, and uniforms.
I’ve run into many people I dealt with in my official capacity as a cop, and contrary to popular belief, there are very few that I don’t want to run into again. I did my best to treat them as kindly as possible. It paid me back in the ease of how we could talk a bit easier if we ever met again. And we do, many times, meet again.
You can imagine that some people have a hard time changing. There are many reasons why they couldn’t do so, but treating them well—regardless—was always one of my goals.
When I start posting about these in-person book events on social channels, I get many notes from people saying they are coming to see me. Today, I got one that is extra special.
A woman I do not know has asked a friend to accompany her to The Briar Patch bookstore for this weekend’s signing.
She sent me a message as a heads-up. It seems the man claimed that I would not remember him. Well, I do. We were on opposite ends of the law during our last encounter, but it was long ago.
After our last conversation, he went away for a stint. This sentence was longer because he had a few challenging tours before that one. He admitted what he had done, but only after there was no other choice in front of him. He was a good person who had done some unfortunate things. He was no different than me in many ways, but his path was the opposite. It happens.
His road to 2022 was challenging, but he was—down deep—a decent human being.
He probably would have never come to see me if I were still rooting around the police station, but in the atmosphere of a bookstore, he feels comfortable enough to come by. That’s a big deal to me.
For many reasons, I am happy with my writing life. Seeing some old friends who have found new beginnings makes me even more pleased about my pathway.
Thanks for stopping by and reading my stuff.