He Was Just An Ordinary Guy Or Was He?

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We tend to believe changing the world means we need to be out there, preaching, speaking, and occasionally being loud because we want to be heard. Isn’t that what the world wants us to believe?

I am incredibly sad today because a friend died. He was young, my son’s age, and that is when I first met David Paal Jr., as a little boy. I must admit over the next forty-some years I lost track of him. We moved and my son changed schools and we didn’t move back to our home community for ten years when my son was grown.

I connected with Dave again a few years ago because I began to see his photos on his media pages. They were breathtaking. As an author, I wanted to try my hand at creating my own book covers. I could see my stories and plots in Dave’s pictures so I messaged him and asked if I would be able to use one of his pictures for my cover. He immediately said yes. We met for coffee so we could hash out the details.

As we chatted I found a humble man with a great sense of humor. His photos were a part of who he was and how he saw the world, yet he didn’t seem to realize how special his talent was. He wasn’t out to make money just to share his love of his hobby. In fact, when I suggested ways he could make money with his talent he seemed to only want to pass the joy onto others.

We chatted recently, him giving me permission again to use his photos in a couple of new book covers, one to update a cover from a past photo I used, and another for my new book coming out in March. Again, his generous attitude registered with me. I am so happy I was able to share both covers with him before he left this earth to use his talents in heaven. I can only imagine the landscape he is seeing through his eyes.

I don’t like to use the word ordinary for anyone because each person is unique, but yet for this blog, I am going to use the word ordinary to describe Dave, even though he was extraordinary. The reason for this is we view those who influence us in the world as different than us ordinary joe’s that keep the world running, working everyday jobs in industries that are not recognized as careers that leave a mark or influence anyone. They are quiet, in the background people, some of who we don’t see because of their ability to keep us going and we take them for granted.

Dave was an ordinary guy with an ordinary job and a fabulous hobby that he excelled at quietly. He was kind, funny, and humble. Yet, this man influenced people on a wide-reaching basis in his quiet way of those he worked with and reaching out to the world with his photography, sharing it on social media so the rest of the world could for a few moments see the breathtaking work that God created.

Seeing his photo’s you knew who Dave was. He let us know through the pictures he took. He loved his country, he loved the communities he was part of, showing those of us that live here through his photographs what we miss every day, because we aren’t looking. He gave us the gift of seeing the beauty of our lives through the lens.

Dave loved nature and old buildings, but most of all he loved his family. His son, his mom, dad, and his sister and her family. Through any difficulties in life, I would say he had his priorities right.

Dave Paal, Jr., you changed lives. I do not think you realized how far-reaching your influence was. You will be missed and always remembered. Thank you for sharing your love of photography with us and for showing us and showing me what true generosity is.

Christmas, Joyful or Stressful?

Sprinkled Notes by Julie Seedorf © December 2018

Printed in the Albert Lea Tribune and the Courier Sentinel the week of December 6.

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Copyright Julie Seedorf Creations

Each Christmas season, others remind me when I write my feel-good column about the holiday season that many people struggle with the holiday. I decided to be honest and share my issues so that it doesn’t feel as if I am not empathetic with seasonal depression.

 I loved the Christmas season from the time I was a child. My parents made sure the season was magical. Growing up visiting my dad and mom’s business put me in the mood with the holiday decorations, with the mood continuing as I attended the free Christmas movies at the theater, capping it off going to midnight mass with my mom at her church and Santa’s arrival early Christmas morning at my home. And I can’t forget visiting my Uncle Dominic’s Christmas tree lot in Mankato to pick out our tree.

As an adult, the fun and joy continued on as my own family grew. I loved decorating the Christmas tree with my children and then with my grandchildren when they were small. Putting up the tree and decorating my home was a family affair. Teaching my kids about the Christmas story and having them participate in the Christmas programs at church was also a highlight and one of the reasons I loved the season.

It is 2018 and times have changed. I no longer have that family here to help me get in the mood for the season. We used to do it when the family was here for Thanksgiving, but now with everyone being so busy, our time together is short if our family get-together even happens. It seems like a struggle to figure out a time to celebrate any holiday as a family.

Six or seven years ago I suffered from an illness and depression, and I did not put one single decoration up in my home. I didn’t even go to church that year. It was a dark time in my life.

The severe depression and illness, through a lot of work, have passed, and I again like the Christmas season, but with it still are feelings of sadness.  I miss the hubbub of children helping me with the tree and oohing and awing over Christmas decorations and remembering who made what. My husband isn’t one to get involved except to set up the actual tree. He will help if I twist his arm, but there is no excitement in the task. It just isn’t his thing. It is hard to be excited when you are alone in the feeling.

A couple of years ago, since we never had Christmas at our house anymore but at one of the kid’s homes, we gave our big tree to our son and his family. We now have a small tree that we leave decorated, put in the closet and haul out every year. I no longer cover every nook and cranny with Christmas bauble. But the already decorated tree isn’t the same.

This morning, as I was viewing pictures on Facebook of families decorating trees, I realized part of my sadness at Christmas is because I miss having someone to share the excitement of the season with me. I miss my kids and grandkids helping me with the fun points of making my house feel festive. The other part is me missing those family members who have died, meaning my mom and dad who always joined in the fun too.             

We are having Christmas back at our home this year, and I am looking forward to that. I have some decorations up, but they will be mellower. I know I am blessed to not have to spend Christmas alone, and I will have my family with me. The reasonable part of me says it is no big deal to have to decorate by myself and get ready for the hoopla. But yet there is the niggling feeling of missing days gone by — happy times with my mom and dad’s families and those with my children and grandchildren.

Last year, too, was a struggle for a different reason. My best friend, Jan, was in the last days of her life. I marveled at her peace and joy in the season. She taught me to count my blessings, but yet this year I feel sadness she isn’t here to share the season with me. She, too, loved Christmas. I will never look at an Old World Santa without thinking of her. She also loved the hospitality of the season, always hosting friends and family. And her voice — her beautiful voice — lifting in praise and worship at our church or when we were out caroling will never be forgotten. Joy shared with her, together as friends, kept me going. When I was in my depression, she lifted me up and encouraged me to live in the season of love.

I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. That is not the purpose of my sharing this. I have a choice. I know this from the past. I can leave this sadness to overwhelm me, or I can count my blessings and feel grateful. I will tell you, for me, it is work. It is hard work pulling out of the doldrums. I do know writing down what I am grateful for eventually turns into peace. But I also know there will be an occasional day when it won’t work, and I will have to accept the sadness but not let it carry me away. I know how to reach out if I can’t figure it out myself. Each person has to take care of themselves the way that works for them. But if you feel trapped, and can’t work your way to find a little joy in the season, please reach out to a friend, a pastor or a professional. Your life is worth living, and you deserve joy, peace and love that Christmas can bring. It is there if you reach for it.