I’m back home, and sort of shutting down. Don’t have a choice really.  I don’t have anything left in the tank, though I’m certainly not as miserable as I was a week ago.    I was going to go to bed VERY early tonight, but I postponed sack time a bit so I could receive a gift from my friends Kevin Pearson and his wife Kristen who brought me a thank-you present for the show John and I did for them a month ago.   I’m glad I stayed up.  They had designed a M2B:) logo that I can stick on the rear window of my car…or anywhere else for that matter.   It’s SOOOOOO cool and totally thoughtful.

They told me if I liked them they’d make more, so I’m imagining where I’m going to put them.  As I slip into sleep mode I’m going to let this linger in my subconscious.  What a M2B:) say to end the day!  Where to place those stickers….the fridge?…the toaster?…the Land Rover?…the bathroom mirror?…my water bottle?…the insulin travel bag?…high school letter sweater?…my Lone Ranger lunch box?…the afternoon nap milk carton?….my Lincoln Log set?…my magician’s wand?….my Davy Crockett hat?…. my…..mmmmmm………

Today John Batdorf and I did a concert in the San Diego area.  This was the singles’ conference I’ve been writing about and worrying about since the big P (pneumonia) rocked my world.  The show went better than I ever dreamed it could have given my physical condition just 4 days ago, but the star aligned, the heavens opened, the pills were happenin’ and Batdorf, as per usual, was in great voice.

After the show I was lucky enough to speak to several of the attendees, which always humbles and encourages me after these events.  People are kind and gracious and appreciative and it’s a truly wonderful exchange…but one soul stood out.   It was a fellow who waited at the end of the reception line to thank me for saving his life.  His words.   Apparently he’d hit bottom emotionally and had decided the journey was too hard, the road too rough and he felt he couldn’t go on…and yet he did, and he said that listening to my songs had kept him hanging on as he listened to them each and every day for months.  He got kind of tearful as he was thanking me, and then took my shoulders in both hands, gave me a shake, and said, “You can’t quit doing this.  This matters.  These songs, what they mean to people…it matters.  Promise me you won’t stop writing.”

For most of my life, I’ve put conversations like this in a special context, just to keep me balanced.  That context has been this:  My friend had been through a tremendous ordeal which drove him to his knees in a way he’d never imagined possible…or that would ever be necessary.  Then, heaven heard those prayers and lifted him and blessed him, using every mortal tool available to assist the guardian angels.  Because some of my songs were there and because he was meeting me, he was taking all that gratitude and thanking me, in person, for a process that involved WAY more than my songs of me.

That’s been my context, and yet something was different about this exchange.  It was the “promise me you won’t stop doing this” that got me.  It put things on a future basis, not just a past memory.  It challenged me to go to the places I may have to go to write the songs I couldn’t have written years ago.  And that “challenge” was not meant to intimidate but rather to inspire.   I’m taking what he said to heart.

I’m also taking my last pill in the first five day round of anti-biotics.

I’m insane, but hopeful.  Or, should I say, hopefully it’s just BEING insane that has me sitting here at the back of a plane headed for California to perform tomorrow at a Singles Conference that was booked months ago.  Don’t feel spectacular, but I’m not coughing, dripping, wheezing or spitting up that delightful avocado green gunk that accompanies congestive ickinesses.  These pills I’ve been taking are scary.  How do they know how to make me this much better than I’ve been for the last two weeks?  Another vote for better living through chemistry…and for the prayers of those who must REALLY want to hear my songs on Saturday in San Diego.

I must not be THAT much better, however.  The security guy at the airport looked twice at my ID picture and asked if I was normally so white!

I said, “I didn’t know you knew my music!”

I’m on a Z pack for my pneumonia.  Apparently if I take these industrial strength pills for five days in a row, then wait five days and do it again, I’ll be healed.  Wondering why on earth anyone with pneumonia would WANT to be healed.  I mean, I’m looking at this from a M2B:) perspective (though I admit I may not be thinking THAT clearly the 94 minutes I’ve been awake today), but when you have pneumonia AND sinusitis NOTHING (I repeat, NOTHING) is expected of you.   You’re given a pass to just lay in bed, moaning and coughing.

If I just didn’t feel so lousy, this would be heaven.

That makes no sense, whatsoever.  Where’s my Kleenex?

Don’t you just hate it when your doctor says that you have pneumonia AND sinusitis? And to make matters worse you’re on a mission to be happy and, to be frank, I’ve never had either pneumonia OR sinusitis on my list of “happy” additions to my life.

But there is an upside to my condition that only a man on a M2B:) would  choose to highlight.  I’m not dead.  Just wish I was.

The final days of August have been hectic, and I’ve been scrambling to keep up.  It’s been tougher than usual because the bug I’ve been fighting is the Rocky of sick bugs:  He WON’T GIVE UP!!!  Just when I think I’ve beaten him down he rallies  and hits me with cough spasms to the chest, drips to the nose and weakness in the knees.  The anticipation of this illness ending has me giddy, but I digress.

I’m loving my house this week. A lot!  We hosted a couple of parties for my cousin who’s son was getting married on the 27th.  The evening of the 26th we had the  families of the bride and groom gather to set up tables for the outdoor reception the next evening, and to have some in-law bonding time.  Since I can’t help myself, I broke out all the in-law bonding songs in my catalogue and sang them with all the gusto I could muster between coughs.   My cousin’s son, Josh, is one of our favorite people, and his bride is gorgeous inside and out so it was easy celebrating the union…but there were challenges.

Friday morning the couple was married in the Salt Lake Temple and by 5 o’clock that afternoon the tables and  chairs were beautifully arrangeded around our yard.  We live on 20 acres of oats and alfalfa in a log home with a bit of a pond in the front.  It’s a lovely setting for an outdoor reception but when the weather gets angry, not so much. The wind kicked up in a heart beat and blew everything either into the stormy abyss or the pond.  Disaster was lurking, but then the house came to the rescue.  We moved everything inside, out of the rain and the wind, and found a way to keep everybody happy and dry and to feed a couple hundred folks who came to join the celebration AND STAYED!!!!

It was great, great fun, and the food was especially yummy.  My cousin’s family knew a sensational mexican cook who blew everyone away with her fajitas, fresh guacamole,  fresh EVERYTHING for that matter, melon water and tres leches cakes.   The winds blew and the rains came but we were all happy as clams.  (I use the expression because they were steak fajitas, not seafood)

After the newly weds danced their dance and left for their honeymoon the rest of the group moved the tables out of the great room and did some serious dancing themselves.  My Bose sound system got a work out, but filled the measure of its creation. We Rocked On!!!

About 10 or 10:30pm the clean up began.  It was amazing.  M2B:) amazing.  In less than half an hour the house was restored.  I couldn’t believe it.   But when I thought about it, of course I could believe it, and this was one of the happiest moments of the week for me.  Many hands make light work.   I’ve heard that my entire life, and it’s true, but seeing it happen warms my heart.  Reminds me of the scene in the movie Witness where the Pennsylvania Dutch gather together to put up a barn.  The whole community shows up and everyone does their part to help someone in need.  The spirit of that love and support and service was with us in our log home and it carried over to the next day when the trucks and trailers arrived to collect the tables and chairs, table cloths, plates and  center pieces, fajita grills and various and sundry adornments of the night before.  Big smiles on everyone’s faces, congratulating each other on the party of the year that almost got rained out.

On Sunday my wife’s side of the family came up for dinner and family counsel regarding my in-laws moving in with us on a permanent basis.  Turns out this week, while my mother-in-law was staying with us, her husband  had a stroke while  fishing in Idaho with my brother-law.  The tests confirm his congestive heart failure is shutting him down and he can’t be the primary care giver for his wife any longer.  The big family discussion was whether to move them in with us, and the other patients in the SCOTSHAVEN HOME for INVALID TENANTS or into a nursing home.

For those of you with aging parents, you know how these family counsels go.  The old folks don’t want to be a burden and the young folks don’t want to take away their parents and grandparents dignity.   As I listened to, and participated in the discussions I was once again moved by the spirit of the event.  Everyone around that table was not just worried about caring for the old people, but about caring for Lynne and me.  It was SWEETNESS on STEROIDS….not fake, not phony, just love and I felt it and it stirred something inside me that expanded whatever love I had there, and brought it out.  It continues to linger, and I suspect it will as we embark on this adventure.

So, we’re prepping for the move-in.  Clearing out closets, rearranging furniture, bringing the folks bedroom furniture from their home in Layton, stocking the fridge hear their room with favorite goodies, and picking up meds at the pharmacy (with a forklift)   Again, I have to say I love that my house is big enough to accomodate everyone and I pray we’ll be able to  keep the spirit of a  M2B:) palpable everyday.

You know the real test of the mission I’m on,  finding meaningful and real happiness every single day, is now.  But I’m not alone…there are angels in my house.

The door from the garage to the entry has been moved over about five inches to make room for the chair lift that’s coming next week.  My mother-in-law arrived this afternoon for what we hope will be an extended stay.  Both our mothers are under one roof and tonight they sat together and laughed at the predicament that is their lives:  Old, in serious pain, living with their kids and wishing they were dead.  It was decided that whoever tells the funniest story that gets them laughing to death wins.

My first attempt was to make up a name for our little nursing home here on Mill Road.  It didn’t sound that funny at first, but the Scotshaven Home for Invalid Tenants brings a chuckle as an acronymn.

This week I didn’t write daily blogs about my Mission To Be Happy because I was “in and out” all week long.  By that I mean I wasn’t exactly coherent that much of the week…just enough to fill some obligations and then it was back in the sack with remedies galore.  The few M2B:) moments I have a vague recollection of are as follows:

Tuesday night, the 17th I took enough Sudafed and cough medicine to make it to the Repartee Gallery for the unveiling of Liz Swindle’s new paintings of the parables.    They brought in a baby grand piano so I could accompany McKenzie Turley who came down from Logan to sing my song THE MESSAGE THAT CAN CHANGE THE WORLD (HASN’T CHANGED).  McKenzie did a terrific job and it was wonderful seeing how music can enrich a visual experience.  Truth is, it was a spiritual experience hearing Liz talk about the inspiration behind her paintings and I was grateful to be there.

The next night we did a similar presentation at the second floor of the BYU Bookstore only McKenzie was unable to attend so my song was sung by the composer (rarely my first choice in sharing a new song).  To prep for this event I tried a combination of DayQuil, B-12, Diabetic Robitussin and Ricola lozenges.   The bad news was the meds didn’t make me sound that great, but the good news is I don’t sound much different when I’m 100% healthy.   Being on the BYU campus during education week is amazing.  One clerk at the bookstore said Education Week was EFY for old people.  Having never been a presenter at Education Week I’ve never really experienced the full frenzy of that many great people in one place expanding their hearts, their minds and their spirits.

Took me awhile to recover from the appearances with Liz.  Apparently no good deed goes unpunished.  I expected a full recovery by the 20th, but it was not to be.  Lynne was anxious for me to get better because the Egginton Family Reunion was being held at our place on the 21st.  This was the first time in many, many years we were hosting the event, and Lynne wanted it to be a memory to inspire her side of the family to get as excited about family history work as she is…or, at the very least, have all the cousins and the kids of cousins discover what a fun family they were a part of.

It was held outside, around the firepit.  Lots of great food, games for the kiddies, guitars, singing and s’mores around the fire and best of all….stories.  Telling the stories about Pop Egginton and the legacy he left.  Even though these weren’t directly “my” people, they became my people more completely than they were before the reunion.  Although I was only hitting on two cylinders, I felt the joy.

Spent the next day in bed…all day…but when I came to, I had a M2B:) smile on my face from the night before.

Today I am woozy.  This bug is a tough little guy.  Kept me in bed til 2pm.  I tried coughing him out, but he’s still there.   All the therapies I’m taking may be helping, but I don’t see much improvement.  It’s sort of like the claim of the stimulus package…things aren’t better but OH, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN WAY WORSE if we hadn’t done anything.   I’m not sure what to do next.  I’m slated to be at a few events during education week down at BYU.  The 17th at 7:00pm is a special event with Liz Swindle at the Repartee Gallery at the University Mall, and then the 18th at 6pm at the BYU Bookstore. If you read this and are close, please come check it all out.  You’ll be my M2B:) moment if you say something like, “Hey Michael….lookin’ good for a dead guy”.

Gotta go.  Time for another pill.  When it slows the coughs down, I’ll claim my M2B:) moment of today.

I am sick.  In bed all day long, sick as a dog (though I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a really sick dog.  If I did, and the dog could speak, I believe the dog would say, “I’m sick as a songwriter”)   During my moments of waking, and between coughs and sneezes, I’ve found myself singing an old song from my youth…with a slight lyric change:

I fought the bug and the bug won, I fought bug and the bug won.

Silly, I know, but it gave me a brief M2B:) moment.