A Table Full Of Tears

The table is set. The platter is spinning unceasingly. The conductor’s arm is statuesque as it gallantly waits for its moment to arrive. With a gentle push of a finger, the baton comes to a rest on a disk so carefully placed. A symphony of songs is about to begin. And here we go: Tracks Of My Tears-Smokey Robinson And The Miracles,  Crying In The Rain-The Everly Brothers, As Tears Go By-The Rolling Sones, Crying Time-Ray Charles, 96  Tears-Question Mark & The Mysterians. And so it goes!

Starting with a sob leading into a feeling of pressure on the water dam in your head begins to erupt. Soon tears followed by more tears with still more tears racing down your cheek. Your eyes are barely able to focus as they are drowning in a sea of salt water. Tissues in your hands dissolve into fragments or are torn to shreds. A white handkerchief once so majestically silky smooth is too wet to hold its form.

Torrents of tears continue to fall. You gasp for any breath that you can take. It is to no avail. Too much emotion to choke back. Hands that are incessantly trembling can no longer hold a grip as your fingers now so very frail fail you. Barely will your legs hold you upright. Relief is not within sight had you any sight left at all.  Inside of you where it matters most is filled to the brim with feelings of negative desires. You just want to go away.

Preceding this eruption of emotion was the discovery of the cracked picture frame on your dresser. You, your family, the essence of your whole life was there in front of you.  Memories of better times when things were they you had always wanted them to have faded away.  Was it a sudden passing?, a house that is no longer your home that was so callously taken away, a loyal loving pet no longer amongst the living, or perhaps the learning that the most feared disease whose name is cancer is a stark reality. Chemotherapy the killer of cancer has begun its destruction of your organs.

Do we ever really know what twist, which turns, when it came to be or why now is the time. Once there was laughter with ne’er a hint or suspicion everything will soon speed you down into the depths from whence you may never recover. Your roadmap so carefully crafted has no value to anyone not even for you. Not even for a miniscule minute can it illuminate a path. Perhaps now your preferences prefer to proceed uninhibited come what may.

Finally, the last tear perhaps precipitated by the above is corralled. The names minus faces attached to them are all that remain. Through it, all the platter keeps spinning waiting for a disk to come to lay down flat on its surface as in unison they wait for the grand maestro to lower the baton which is controlled by a flick of the finger signaling for the music to begin. Each note floats and dangles in the air directly above you.

This voice that is now running around in our ear causes us (is us really intended to mean me?) to pause in the remembrance of the words that we or I (mostly I) became intertwined with Whisper softly aloud your feelings of fury fueled of what has become of you. What has become of I or the semblance of we? Alone you sit in the discomfort of wherever you may be. Alone you sit! You sit alone.  Alone is where you want to need to be. Where or by whose own hand is it written that it has to be this way. After all these years where are all the friends, you once knew you held onto gone to? Reduced to voices on the phone or pictures on the screen it’s not the same anymore. The number is down to two reinforcing the reality there are just two of you alone with each other but so very far apart while sitting seemingly together in a room. Nary a word that hasn’t been said or a moment rehashed in a futile exercise of communication. One who remained left to be on his own but unexpectedly made a desperation-driven return home. A flash six weeks later took him back on his own path. His voice now in his mind is off limits to us. Not once to consider we need him, we want him in our lives if only to hear him say “oh man” as his laughter carried him away.

This is a story about life, family, changes, disruptions, sorrows both recorded and not recorded. Triumphs over adversity that will never be in a hurry to leave us alone. Be it years of holding hands walking barefoot over the ocean while the waves licked our toes there we were…happy. There was warmth in the warm/cold water. Odd shapes seashells to put in our pockets so we could wish them into our home to be put on display. The never ending sound of the sea. It all came tumbling down on the day the towers disintegrated into dust. We had long been removed from the seaweed that floated so friendly towards us.

Thirty-two plus 62 equals 94 a number that is strikingly close to the one heart that is crying 96 tears (96 Tears-Questionmark & The Mysterians)Too many raindrops (Raindrops-Dee  Clark) are once again falling from my eyes shuddering to think what is my number? Can I expect to board the train roaring down the tracks from above to the place I (it’s often times instead of us) thinking how much I love this new world that is only 20 minutes away from the old world but different in every way? A place where we are all one and the same but different as each black hat with a brim down or brim up signifying we are not all one.   Yes, I know I have discussed this subject already probably a million times over by now.

These days once again alone (either by choice or design) I lose myself in music. Perhaps a lyric can ignite a passion in me once so unshakeable. Living back then (just to regress the already uneven timeline) for the art of “putting the deal together.” There were deals made to sell more insurance, there were caldrons of deals made selling mortgages. Fighting fights with anyone who dared try to stop me from closing deals that were interwoven with deals to make deals put together by deals. No more mortgages unleashed the relentless recruiter. These “placements” had to get done as there was too much money on the line. They said the placement would never be made but through dogged determination, wit, drive, and guile the placements got done. I was the king!

Does the specifics of the not so fabled journey from there to here really matter? I (we) are here.! We move about in a land that is not welcoming of people like us. Always the square pegs pushing our corners into round holes. We join (she joins) with those of us who belong together in a show of whatever our manner of dress shows us to be.

Me? I am but the words I reluctantly write. The words just keep on coming despite my fervent pleas for them to stop! I don’t know if I want this anymore or if I can do this anymore.  Once again I am alone (she is asleep in the other room) because that is where I am like or not. My words sting with wreckless anger when something does not agree with my sense of what is supposed to be according to me. But, who the hell am I anyway? Timeout to remove five spam e-mails. By the morning there will be many more to take their place. My words take me by surprise. I never asked for them or even for a second thought I could do this. So now I am doing something I had no inkling I could do. Just like the music, I reintroduced myself to that I will never again let go of the same holds true for my writing. Yes, I AM going to continue on with my writing with a hearty dose fo thank you to Dennis Pitocco.

I (we) may very well shed some more tears that will either be sweet or as bitter as a bitter herb.Though the tears obliterate the smiles you may not believe this but sometimes I find myself laughing or making others laugh through my stories or moments of silliness.

The number is now officially (it was official hours ago but I was so busy tapping on the keyboard to realize it) is THIRTY-TWO! Thirty-two years of everything that can right, wrong, or even right and wrong. Far be it from me not wonder will there be thirty-three plus 63. Another e-mail! Rambling to a close trying to put in filler so I can reach 1500 words. What is so special about 1500 words I do not now know. Anyway, let the disk spin, let the music play, let me sing along even if I am out of tune.

To end on a sad note (as if this article was a barrel of laughs courtesy of the late great Robin Williams) Neil Diamond in the midst of his 50th anniversary tour shocked his fans (include me in that group) by announcing the rest of his tour is being cancelled as he became afflicted with Parkinsons Disease. A man who could manipulate our moods from one direction to another during his concerts will no longer be able to take his gift on the road.



Joel Elveson
Joel Elveson
INDEPENDENT Executive Recruiting By Joel is an "up and coming" Executive Search Firm formed and headed up by Joel Elveson whose visionary ideas, leadership & creativity have brought to life a more "user-friendly" approach to recruiting. His clients and candidates form powerful strategic partnerships that we use to help you. Joel’s Firm offers Permanent, Temporary (case by case), & Temporary To Permanent staffing solutions for all of your Human Capital Requirements. Contract IT/Consultants are available if needed. Above and beyond they are experts (by way of their personal industry work experience) with mortgage, mortgage banking, middle-market banking, accounting, along with many others under the vast financial spectrum of disciplines. Their business goes beyond candidate recruiting as they also train, mentor and develop your internal recruiting staff with an eye towards helping you reduce the cost of hiring. They will also work in areas such as compensation, effective onboarding processes and alike. In other words, their business is to help your business by becoming an extension of you by filling in gaps that cause delay or waste. The recruiting methods employed by Joel’s team are time tested that results in a high rate of successful placements. Joel was trained in the art of recruiting by some of the top staffing industry executives in addition to the best recruiter trainers who to this day drive me to exceed the lofty goals he has set forth.

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  1. Larry,
    Thank you for your very poignant comments as well as the attention you give to my writing. You are the first person to mention the music I include with the article. I try to make sure the song is along the same theme as the article itself. My father passed away at the age of 64 in the hospital whose library he helped plan. He had no intention of retiring until who knows when. The day before he died we told he would be a grandfather but we are not sure if he heard. I had an older sister who did not die of a disease or anything close. My mother passed (as I have written so many time) at age 90. She could have lived longer but she surrendered to depression as the loss of her husband and having to bury her daughter along with the events of my sister’s death overcame her and she lost interest in taking care of herself. I will never allow myself to stop thinking of them.

  2. I love that you always use music in your post and the artist that you choose are meaningful. This is a sad article I know I have lost a lot of family to Alzheimer and to cancer. Thank you my friend for a emotional story. Let us remember to love them while they are here.