Skip to main content

Is Anybody Home?


Is anybody home?

There are many suggesting and actually driving the world; primarily the people in it to becoming virtual. Virtual by means of intangible, less feeling. I’m speaking not just spiritually, yet the physical as well. Prior to the pandemic, depending on where you were I noticed there was less handshaking upon meeting others. I guess perhaps I would be one of the few sensitive to these things on an extreme level. Which could be due to, that for twenty-eight years as I was in the hands-on-people business. I noticed people either became less trusting or more demanding or both.

Perhaps I’ll explain how this goes with handshakes upon meeting, eventually.

It could be a city effect.  In which I do not feel a connection to. I feel more of a connection to the earth, its unheard inhabitants, the plants. The quietness of a field, the silence of a forest. A cricket, the crackling of leaves under nature’s footfalls, or a fallen branch. Actually, it is what I seemingly have always longed for. By my history, you wouldn’t think that.

The history of my athletics, military service, certain jobs I’ve had and so forth.  I truly do not enjoy crowds or get-togethers of any kind; except after a fight or a grappling match, perhaps. Mostly, I have felt okay with that. Yet beforehand, I want no part of it. I don’t want to be around anyone.  Even and especially before running events, including solo charity events that I’ve organized, recruited for and ran.

However, what I’m witnessing currently, is that people are starving. Starving to not be virtual. They need to be hugged. I had that experience yesterday as I shoveled snow for a few hours. A stranger was driving by and saw me shoveling. At first, I didn’t know what made her stop. It was the sight of one of the fourteen deer of the herd in my side yard that could be seen from the roadway.

It is a phenomena, that I am blessed with nearly every day at some point. And more recently, since my husband passed, its been every day practically. More fox sightings as well. And yes, I do talk to the deer. I do this, because I share their space. Yes, I’ve paid for the land and pay taxes regularly on it too. But you see, I understand I’m renting it from them. We, they and I are not virtual to each other. We are partners in nature.

So, when I ask the younger deer to not eat certain shrubs, yet point them to the ones they can eat. They do actually obey me. And their elders, understand this with me. Although, I haven’t mastered everything. The thing I know is what I’ve allowed them to do. The young ones have to learn, and I understand this. So, my tolerance is understanding.

So here I was yesterday, the deer attracted this woman. Whom was about my age, maybe a year older than I. She backed up her car, “You know you have a deer in your yard?” I stopped shoveling and replied, “I have a herd that lives on and near my yard.” I saw eleven deer today. But there’s fourteen deer in all. There are three bucks, one is the king.” She appeared stunned at first. Then she asked, “Hey, do you need help in shoveling your snow?”  I replied, “No. I’m mostly done. And it’s a great workout too. Right now, it’s replacing lifting weights. Just got done with my training run. So, this is good for me. Thank you.”

She nearly insisted. We didn’t know each other. We talked about the deer for a spell. I found out who she knew on my block, five doors down and where she lived about a mile away. She told me her name. We were conversing so long I had her back up and put her car in a better parking position.  Then the conversation got deeper than deer. I saw tears in her eyes. She needed a hug. We found out that we both had been in the healthcare industry and now were done. I told her I was fried. She was told she was fried, and they let her go. Too much stress. I saw it on her. In her expression. She asked, “Can I give you a hug?” She started to cry. I acquiesced. One thing I do when someone hugs me, or I them. I feel for the spirit. Where is the desperation? Where will this hug go? How long will it last after we embrace? Is anybody home? Yes, those are the thoughts in my mind whenever I hug or shake hands with someone. And I don’t forget those thoughts, those feelings I receive in the silence of a hug or a handshake. I reflect upon them. Because it truly is the tangibility of the human spirit at that moment. There’s some truth in a hug. And you find out if somebody is home.---Jody-Lynn Reicher


Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

Sledging the Hammer

  "You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew.    However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.