Okay, so at least give me some points for creativity with titles. I thought a great deal about the differences between mothers and fathers and yes, that was the first thing I came up with. While many of us, as kids, ran to mom when we fell and scraped a knee or cut ourselves, they'd provide a bandage. While it is a generalization about dads, a lot of the, "Rub some dirt on it," comments are true. Let's face it - while moms bandaged us, dads were busy telling us to "Get back on the horse," or, "Walk it off." We did...and life went on. The entire thought process took me to the differences between our parents and how they are both so very deserving of their respective days. I've heard, too, that the best writings and stories come when people are open and honest about their lives. After the initial start to this year, I have neither hesitation nor concern about sharing anything of who I am and what led me here. Nope...no tangent - this all plays into the story.
I have been blessed/cursed with three fathers in my life. Before you start thinking this stems from an episode of Maury, it was simply a matter of life beginning in the 70's. Divorce, and consequent remarriage, is now more natural than it was prior to that. That's how I ended up with my personal set of fathers. I've learned from them all, both positive and negative...and hopefully (and I think they'd agree), I have taken the negative experiences we might have had and turned them into learning life-lessons with positive outcomes for myself and my kids.
My biological father was only in my life, initially, for the first seven years. He and my mother divorced, he remarried, then later moved out of state. I wasn't to see him again for 15 years, with the exception of a couple of times over that span for the deaths of family members. I remember his MG Midget and going to SCCA autocross events with him. Perhaps the love of driving, in a not-always-so-slow fashion was ingrained in me at this early age. I remember, too, how he'd take me along with him, on occasion, to work at the family's dairy. For you youngsters, milk wasn't always in plastic containers at the supermarket or 7-11. They used to deliver it to your door and place it....wow, we're getting off this part. It's irrelevant and making me feel WAY too old. Anyway, we spent time together that must have made an impression because I remember it to this day. For the earlier years, I have photographic evidence that he and mom were happy, yet married too young to have a lasting relationship confined in close quarters. As I said, they toughed it out for seven years. In my later years, it was I who 'forced' a relationship on him. I say forced because I believe he thought too many years had passed to have any type of relationship with me. I, being my usual 'won't-take-no-for-an-answer' self, went to visit. It was then that I could go to him for advice when I chose sales as a profession and golf as a hobby. Nothing made him prouder, I don't think, than knowing I have a great career in sales and could, with unquestioned regularity, beat him on the golf course.
Mom got remarried several years later and her husband, our step-father, wanted to adopt my sister and I. It meant we'd have the same last name as both parents which, in the early 70's was still common. It was having a different last name that required explanation, though I spent many years (and still do) answering the, "Oh, you're John's son," questions. The easy answer was always in the affirmative - thank you mom for marrying two men with the same name. Piece of cake. Anyway, I had a father figure that was there for some important milestones - learning to play baseball, buying my first car, graduating high school and college. Honestly, it was he that reminded me of the dirt-rubbing, get back on the horse-type thoughts. Vivid memories of standing in the back yard trying to become a better baseball player and he, only 16 years older than I (something for which to be commended alone), throwing the ball harder and harder to ensure I wouldn't be afraid to get in front of the ball. Everything was going splendidly until.....fastball right at me. I brought the glove down a fraction of a second too soon and the ball glanced off the pocket and webbing, landing squarely on.....my forehead. Literally knocked me on my ass. Hard and fast. I'm laughing as I write this, but he says to this day it sounded like the crack of a wooden bat and I crumpled like a rag doll. Many of you that know me are now sitting there saying, "Ohhh....that explains so much!" There was no permanent damage.....of which we are aware. Aware. Aware. Okay, maybe a little. Seriously, though, my dad taught me a lot about respect for elders, when to speak in social situations, and discipline. A LOT about discipline. Don't get me wrong, I did my part, too. I mean, you can't dole out discipline unless someone is screwing things up. Enter....ME! In all fairness, it is a Yin-Yang thing. Can't have one without the other, right? I remember, too, dad coming to school while I was in college and hanging out for a weekend or two. Our relationship had evolved.
In the late 80's however, this marriage ended and mom was content to be single....somewhat. I'm firmly convinced, too, she would be to this day had it not been for Bob. She met what would be our...what do you call them - step-step-father? Step-father once removed? Hell, we just called him Bob, yet he was as much a father, and more so a grandfather, as the others. He was a devout family man and, most importantly in that time in the life of my sister and I, he loved our mother. He had children of his own, yet accepted us as no different. We got to see he and mom more routinely than his own children, so it was only natural that he take that role in our lives, though he certainly did not have to. He was there for our weddings, offered wisdom that was beyond measure, and was always good for an argument. Please understand - when I say that, I mean argue as a lawyer argues a case. Perhaps a better word would be debate. What I learned most from Bob, though, was unconditional love and patience. As I said, he might be in a heated discussion with you while debating a point, yet was always the most kind, caring, gentle person. When I married and had a step-son, he enjoyed taking him in the surf at the beach to teach him to fish. When my daughter was born, he cradled her in a hammock for hours. He was a gentle giant that would give you anything he could - mostly, in the form of stellar advice - to see that your life was headed in the 'right' direction.
So there you have it. A glimpse into the three mean I typically called on this day, Father's Day. it was a call I actually enjoyed making to all of them. Then, three years ago, Bob was diagnosed with lung cancer. On a particular visit to the hospital in April, he was admitted unexpectedly. My wife and I went to visit at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. While I worked from my mother's home, my wife stayed with Bob and mom at the hospital daily. I was thankful for my wife, as I am certain my mother was, as she held his hand and comforted my mother until he died a few days later. A short four months later, while headed home from a sales meeting in Washington, DC, we happened to stop our motorcycles on the Blue Ridge Parkway for a rest. My phone rang.....and I got the news that my biological father had passed away earlier that morning unexpectedly. Four months and one day apart, I had lost two very important influences in my life.
As I said in the beginning of this post, it hasn't been a stellar year so far concerning people I love and care about. As many struggle with the rhyme or reason to why these things happen, I am only plagued with more questions. A few short weeks ago, a good friend and coworker went into the hospital for a surgery that is considered almost routine at this point. True, it was a cardiac valve replacement but, as he and I discussed, they do these every day and, while I don't believe there is ever any 'minor' surgery, I knew he'd be fine. I was wrong. A day after his surgery, he passed away at the age of 55. He left a loving wife and two sons that will no longer be able to make the call I so desperately wish I could make today, too. We cannot, but hopefully many of you can.
I'm simply saying this - many of us (okay, MOST of us) ran to our mothers when we were kids and either needed something or were hurt. Let's face it, no matter how many times the cameras pan the sidelines of a football game, I have yet to see a player turn to the camera and thank the dude that taught him to throw the football, how to tackle, or how to pick up the cheerleader after the game. What do they say? "Hi, Mom!" Guilty as charged. Not the football player part, the 'running to mom' part. I already did a post on moms, though, and wanted you to realize, as I have, that dad isn't always going to be there. None of us are always going to be there, but today might be a good time to remember that, while mom was bandaging that cut or helping ease the broken heart when the cheerleader (or football player) dumped you, dad was probably at work making sure you'd have money for the mortgage or the camp or any vacations he made you sure you experienced. Many dads can appear to be 'asleep at the wheel' during certain periods in your life - trust me, we're trying to think about how to make your lives better and easier, while planning any way we can to protect you as much as possible. If you don't believe that, think about how many single moms there are and how we applaud their undying efforts. Now, think about the dads doing the same thing. There are many men that have never, nor will ever, shirk the responsibilities of having children. They are raising their children alone, too, and deserve equal applause, along with the fathers that make sure their child support is never late. We're fathers - a title we don't take lightly...and love every day.
I'd do anything to be able to give my dads a hug and a kiss again, to tell them I love them, to play one last round of golf with them. I'd give anything to have one last conversation with them. Please tell me, if dad is alive, you'll make the time today to make dad the SOLE priority when you see him or speak to him. Treat this as what might be your last chance to say, "Happy Father's Day, Dad." If it's not, what have you lost? Lucky you, you get to do it again next year. I don't...but it doesn't mean I'm going to stop reminding you.
Happy Father's Day, Pop.....thank you and I love you.
Until next time............
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
One Day Almost Seems Not Enough...
There are probably many men, at this point, asking what I'm thinking. Truth be told, they're secretly agreeing with me. One day for moms is not enough. I've had the chance, over several weeks, to reevaluate what you women do for us. When I say 'Us', I am referring not only to your children, but we, the fathers, that double as your additional child. I am...I think we all, after proper reflection, would be...amazed.
I watch my mother, retired and living alone, take the time to call me almost daily since the loss of my wife. She also takes the time to be with her own mother (another amazing woman) who still lives alone at the age of 86. My grandmother, herself, is a two-time breast cancer survivor that has taught all of us life lessons with her unstoppable spirit and determination. She continues to cook for us when we are home, and makes sure we are all 'properly taken care of'. Neither of these ladies ever takes the time to stop, consider what they do for everyone else, and ask, "When is it my turn?" They simply continue to do. My mother has been doing it since we were born. I watched, and learned from, her determination to make sure we had everything we needed, many things we wanted, and the life lessons and discipline to become proper adults. She would discipline as needed...and love unconditionally. Honestly, she helped us become the people we are today which, I believe, is a true measure of her success.
It doesn't stop there, though. I watch many of you women do the same every day. Single mothers who have to work multiple jobs to provide a home for their children, while making sure they have everything they need in the form of love, discipline, and kindness - those very life lessons I mentioned earlier. I watch the mother of a special-needs child who never asks why this happened to her but, rather, speaks of how precious their child is. Those children, to you amazing mothers, are truly special, and the love you show them helps change ideas and attitudes the world over. I've seen people use words on social media that will turn a calm, cool, collected mother into a raging Wonder Woman that will protect their child at ALL costs - as it should be. While we still consider the notion that a father is the 'Protector' of the household and family, there are many that might challenge that with a mere observation. Behind many a protecting father, I think, is a mother waiting to tear people apart lest they mess with their family unit. I like it - you wear it well, ladies. Very well.
I have a 17-year old daughter that many have heard me speak of, especially recently. She has become an amazing woman and support for me. She shows love, caring, kindness, and empathy toward others. These are remarkable traits and I am extremely proud of her. When I do mention her, many friends have said, "She learns what she's taught. You did well." While I'd like to take some credit for that, I truly feel I am entitled to only a small part of said credit. She lives 700 miles away and, though we did the 'every other weekend' thing often in the first few years, she grew up and got a social life of her own. We are close, true, however we don't see each other anywhere nearly as often as I'd like. My point being, the 'credit' for her upbringing falls much to her mother, my ex-wife. I'm honest enough with myself (and all of you) to say her mother did much of the 'heavy lifting' when it came to Britt. She has provided her with good morals, good habits. discipline, and a life that she loves. Her mother has done an amazing job and I wish her a Happy Mother's Day, too...as well as my eternal thanks and gratitude.
You cook, clean, do our laundry, bandage the cuts and kiss the bruises. You provide comfort when it's needed, as well as the dreaded 'kick in the pants', too, when we are being fools and aren't motivated. You are the security we need in an insecure, unsure world. I have to say, too, that there are many single fathers that deserve recognition today. I cannot imagine it, yet you do it without question or hesitation. I know why. It's the same reason I would drive 700 miles to spend 1 1/2 days with my daughter. They're your kids. It's as simple and pure as that.
As I mentioned earlier, when my wife passed away a few weeks ago, the first person to arrive was my mother. We had a day before anyone else arrived and it afforded me the opportunity to tell her, one-on-one, what I had wanted to share for so long. I wanted to thank her, personally, for raising us to be the people we've become and to let her know that the sacrifices she made, both of her time and freedom, were not without appreciation. Today might be a good day for everyone to really do that. I can attest to the fact that your mother might not be here next year. I'm a big proponent of saying things NOW - as I tell my daughter often, I want you to be able to say, "I'm glad I did, rather than I wish I had." Take the time today. Tell mom how awesome and amazing she is. Honestly, I may have never met your mother...but I know she is.
I love you, Mom.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY - to all you wonderful moms.
Until next time..............
I watch my mother, retired and living alone, take the time to call me almost daily since the loss of my wife. She also takes the time to be with her own mother (another amazing woman) who still lives alone at the age of 86. My grandmother, herself, is a two-time breast cancer survivor that has taught all of us life lessons with her unstoppable spirit and determination. She continues to cook for us when we are home, and makes sure we are all 'properly taken care of'. Neither of these ladies ever takes the time to stop, consider what they do for everyone else, and ask, "When is it my turn?" They simply continue to do. My mother has been doing it since we were born. I watched, and learned from, her determination to make sure we had everything we needed, many things we wanted, and the life lessons and discipline to become proper adults. She would discipline as needed...and love unconditionally. Honestly, she helped us become the people we are today which, I believe, is a true measure of her success.
It doesn't stop there, though. I watch many of you women do the same every day. Single mothers who have to work multiple jobs to provide a home for their children, while making sure they have everything they need in the form of love, discipline, and kindness - those very life lessons I mentioned earlier. I watch the mother of a special-needs child who never asks why this happened to her but, rather, speaks of how precious their child is. Those children, to you amazing mothers, are truly special, and the love you show them helps change ideas and attitudes the world over. I've seen people use words on social media that will turn a calm, cool, collected mother into a raging Wonder Woman that will protect their child at ALL costs - as it should be. While we still consider the notion that a father is the 'Protector' of the household and family, there are many that might challenge that with a mere observation. Behind many a protecting father, I think, is a mother waiting to tear people apart lest they mess with their family unit. I like it - you wear it well, ladies. Very well.
I have a 17-year old daughter that many have heard me speak of, especially recently. She has become an amazing woman and support for me. She shows love, caring, kindness, and empathy toward others. These are remarkable traits and I am extremely proud of her. When I do mention her, many friends have said, "She learns what she's taught. You did well." While I'd like to take some credit for that, I truly feel I am entitled to only a small part of said credit. She lives 700 miles away and, though we did the 'every other weekend' thing often in the first few years, she grew up and got a social life of her own. We are close, true, however we don't see each other anywhere nearly as often as I'd like. My point being, the 'credit' for her upbringing falls much to her mother, my ex-wife. I'm honest enough with myself (and all of you) to say her mother did much of the 'heavy lifting' when it came to Britt. She has provided her with good morals, good habits. discipline, and a life that she loves. Her mother has done an amazing job and I wish her a Happy Mother's Day, too...as well as my eternal thanks and gratitude.
You cook, clean, do our laundry, bandage the cuts and kiss the bruises. You provide comfort when it's needed, as well as the dreaded 'kick in the pants', too, when we are being fools and aren't motivated. You are the security we need in an insecure, unsure world. I have to say, too, that there are many single fathers that deserve recognition today. I cannot imagine it, yet you do it without question or hesitation. I know why. It's the same reason I would drive 700 miles to spend 1 1/2 days with my daughter. They're your kids. It's as simple and pure as that.
As I mentioned earlier, when my wife passed away a few weeks ago, the first person to arrive was my mother. We had a day before anyone else arrived and it afforded me the opportunity to tell her, one-on-one, what I had wanted to share for so long. I wanted to thank her, personally, for raising us to be the people we've become and to let her know that the sacrifices she made, both of her time and freedom, were not without appreciation. Today might be a good day for everyone to really do that. I can attest to the fact that your mother might not be here next year. I'm a big proponent of saying things NOW - as I tell my daughter often, I want you to be able to say, "I'm glad I did, rather than I wish I had." Take the time today. Tell mom how awesome and amazing she is. Honestly, I may have never met your mother...but I know she is.
I love you, Mom.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY - to all you wonderful moms.
Until next time..............
Saturday, March 23, 2013
I Won't Wear Black...and Where We Go From Here
Interesting title, huh? Yeah, I thought so, too. You didn't? Too bad - you're already reading, so why not keep going? C'mon...you're already trying to figure out where I'm going with this. Here's the thing - I don't know what a requisite period of mourning should be. I don't mean that to sound callous, but I'm new at this. Understand one thing, though - I will not dwell. That's the point of me saying, "I won't wear black." I actually fancy (oh, yeah, I said 'fancy') that shade in clothes so, while you will see me in black, it's because it makes me look taller. Maybe not, but work with me here.
Already, I am walking around trying to figure things out. Not so much the 'why's' but, rather, the 'what the hell do I do now' types of questions. Regardless, the title of this post was meant to be a signal to myself and a direction of purpose. When things like this happen, we have choices. We always have choices. It's what we do with those choices that signals to the world what we truly are as individuals and the fiber of which we are made. Again, I'm new at this so I'm not sure if there is a proper way to act. No one, so far, has handed me the "Widows/Widowers for Dummies" manual. In its' absence, apparently, we all guess...and lean on others for guidance. I bring this up because, though it was less than two weeks ago that it happened, I ventured out of the house and back to work earlier this week. True, it was only for a few days, however work took me to a convention in Atlanta. I wanted, and more importantly needed, to be there. I did not go for the sympathy hugs and handshakes that I new would come. I did not go so I could share my pain with others. I went, quite honestly, because I needed some normalcy. I heard from a friend late last evening that a few people said they could not believe I was there. I suppose they thought I was being cold or heartless or that I did not care or was not affected by all that has transpired. Though I do not feel the need to explain to anyone, I will...because I choose to. There it is again - a choice. Being around the people that I see annually at this convention provided me a sense of normalcy which, truth be told, will have to come eventually anyway. Gee, folks, I wasn't there to find another wife or another woman. I was there to be around normal which, knowing some of my friends, is the last thing they'd be called. It's a relative term, though, so I'm using it. They're MY normal....and it did me wonders. Being there allowed me to laugh again, find my voice again, and work again. These things are important to me as I'm certain they are to you. I spoke of my grief and pain when asked, as well as gave advice on preparing when it came up in conversation. If you haven't read the previous post, what are you waiting for? It's what I have to offer.
So where do we go from here? I use a collective, "We," because I've come to realize that, no matter how we think of it, we're not on our journeys alone. We all have friends that are along for our ride, as we are theirs. Personally, I've already come to a few 'truths' that will make every day better. Things like...the love of a family and an incredible bond with your parents, children, and siblings can make you feel as if you can conquer the world, and that you are truly unstoppable. You'll make it through anything because they are simply there. I've come to realize the incredible power of a simple text message from (and to) my daughter, as well as my sisters. I realize that true friends leave an indelible mark on our souls that changes who we become - we are now the sum of all those parts....and it is amazing. I realize that the power of laughter can cure much...and that tears don't always have to be for sorrow. Yes, I knew that before, but some people made me laugh to the point of tears this weekend...and it felt great. I realize that someone whispering in your ear, telling you, "Things are going to be okay," and, "I'm here for you," makes you gain strength and recover a little as you find yourself again. I realize that people are inherently good...and they care. I know I've said it before, but will continue to do so for as long as I have a voice - I am grateful and appreciative of my friends. I've known some, literally, all my life, while others I've only known for a few months. I value and cherish them all. They are where I will get the strength to, as I said before, end the chapter and start a new one.
Lastly, I've come to understand the value and power of love and the many forms it takes. Whether it's from family or friends, it's important and, as I said earlier, all we have. None of us will be getting out of here alive - we all know the two unavoidable things are death and taxes, right? So what do we do with that? I say we try to make a difference. A difference in our lives, the lives of others, and in the world. We'll be leaving people behind, so why not make it a better place? At the risk of sounding like Miss America hoping for 'World Peace', or doing a Rodney King impersonation and asking, "Can't we all just get along?", I dare say we can do right by others at very little cost to ourselves. In the end, it's the best we have. As I sit here writing this, there was a knock on my front door. When I received the package and opened it, I thought how appropriate and fitting with what I am writing. It was from yet another dear, sweet, thoughtful friend that I love and adore. She sent a plant - it's name is the Red Rose of Sharon Hibiscus - in honor of Sharon's love for red roses. How incredible and amazing. Are you understanding the point of all this? It took very little, yet made such an impact! I was, and am, moved beyond words.
I've said before that my beliefs lead me to try and understand the lesson from all of this. As I sat pondering this again the other evening, a familiar quote I've always liked from one of our favorite series, The West Wing, came to mind. It was a simple story being related:
This guy's walking down a street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep, he can't get out. A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up, "Hey you, can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up "Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here." The friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out."
I know that, when a friend experiences this very same thing (as we all surely will), I want to be the one that jumps in the hole. I will state with certainty that I have, in fact, been there.....and know the way out. Many of you have given me much to think about recently. As I said, new chapter - not the end of a book by any means. I will look back, eventually, at the previous chapters with fondness and love, knowing they shaped who I have become today. Think about that as you're going through the day-to-day. Learn to live in, and be keenly aware of, the moment. As I sit here now, I have images that I recall from the 'good times' we all experience...and I am smiling. There's much to be done and I will figure it out. No, I'm not becoming philosophical (well, any more than usual), but want each of you to take the time that I know I will surely embrace as I experience everything from this point forward. As my daughter pointed out to me in a text message earlier - Dad, I just wanted to let you know that if anything ever happened to either of us, that I love you and you're the best dad in the whole entire world. Life's too short not to tell the people you love that you appreciate everything they do for you, so thank you. People could be gone in the blink of an eye, so I don't want anything to happen, ever, without telling you that.
This from a young lady not quite 17 years old yet. Am I the best dad in the whole world? I never thought so, but if she does...if your kids do...isn't that what matters? Go. Right now. Hug them for absolutely no reason. Find your spouse/significant other and put your arms around them and whisper in their ear how much they mean to you. Kiss them on the cheek and look into their eyes...really look...and tell them how much richer your life is for having them in it. If your relationship isn't the best, think back to what drew you to them in the first place so that your grumbling and complaining might lessen. You do NOT want anything to happen without letting them know how you truly feel. It will cost you nothing but a little time...and in the end, you'll feel better, too. I'm not trying to be 'sappy' (what does that mean, anyway?) but I am here to bear witness - some of us missed chances when we had them. That goes for friends as well - tell them how you feel, always. Then, after you've done those things, walk outside and take a look around. We're still here and have much, all of us, to be grateful for. Lastly, remember to like yourself and enjoy life....and simply breathe......
Until next time...........
Already, I am walking around trying to figure things out. Not so much the 'why's' but, rather, the 'what the hell do I do now' types of questions. Regardless, the title of this post was meant to be a signal to myself and a direction of purpose. When things like this happen, we have choices. We always have choices. It's what we do with those choices that signals to the world what we truly are as individuals and the fiber of which we are made. Again, I'm new at this so I'm not sure if there is a proper way to act. No one, so far, has handed me the "Widows/Widowers for Dummies" manual. In its' absence, apparently, we all guess...and lean on others for guidance. I bring this up because, though it was less than two weeks ago that it happened, I ventured out of the house and back to work earlier this week. True, it was only for a few days, however work took me to a convention in Atlanta. I wanted, and more importantly needed, to be there. I did not go for the sympathy hugs and handshakes that I new would come. I did not go so I could share my pain with others. I went, quite honestly, because I needed some normalcy. I heard from a friend late last evening that a few people said they could not believe I was there. I suppose they thought I was being cold or heartless or that I did not care or was not affected by all that has transpired. Though I do not feel the need to explain to anyone, I will...because I choose to. There it is again - a choice. Being around the people that I see annually at this convention provided me a sense of normalcy which, truth be told, will have to come eventually anyway. Gee, folks, I wasn't there to find another wife or another woman. I was there to be around normal which, knowing some of my friends, is the last thing they'd be called. It's a relative term, though, so I'm using it. They're MY normal....and it did me wonders. Being there allowed me to laugh again, find my voice again, and work again. These things are important to me as I'm certain they are to you. I spoke of my grief and pain when asked, as well as gave advice on preparing when it came up in conversation. If you haven't read the previous post, what are you waiting for? It's what I have to offer.
So where do we go from here? I use a collective, "We," because I've come to realize that, no matter how we think of it, we're not on our journeys alone. We all have friends that are along for our ride, as we are theirs. Personally, I've already come to a few 'truths' that will make every day better. Things like...the love of a family and an incredible bond with your parents, children, and siblings can make you feel as if you can conquer the world, and that you are truly unstoppable. You'll make it through anything because they are simply there. I've come to realize the incredible power of a simple text message from (and to) my daughter, as well as my sisters. I realize that true friends leave an indelible mark on our souls that changes who we become - we are now the sum of all those parts....and it is amazing. I realize that the power of laughter can cure much...and that tears don't always have to be for sorrow. Yes, I knew that before, but some people made me laugh to the point of tears this weekend...and it felt great. I realize that someone whispering in your ear, telling you, "Things are going to be okay," and, "I'm here for you," makes you gain strength and recover a little as you find yourself again. I realize that people are inherently good...and they care. I know I've said it before, but will continue to do so for as long as I have a voice - I am grateful and appreciative of my friends. I've known some, literally, all my life, while others I've only known for a few months. I value and cherish them all. They are where I will get the strength to, as I said before, end the chapter and start a new one.
Lastly, I've come to understand the value and power of love and the many forms it takes. Whether it's from family or friends, it's important and, as I said earlier, all we have. None of us will be getting out of here alive - we all know the two unavoidable things are death and taxes, right? So what do we do with that? I say we try to make a difference. A difference in our lives, the lives of others, and in the world. We'll be leaving people behind, so why not make it a better place? At the risk of sounding like Miss America hoping for 'World Peace', or doing a Rodney King impersonation and asking, "Can't we all just get along?", I dare say we can do right by others at very little cost to ourselves. In the end, it's the best we have. As I sit here writing this, there was a knock on my front door. When I received the package and opened it, I thought how appropriate and fitting with what I am writing. It was from yet another dear, sweet, thoughtful friend that I love and adore. She sent a plant - it's name is the Red Rose of Sharon Hibiscus - in honor of Sharon's love for red roses. How incredible and amazing. Are you understanding the point of all this? It took very little, yet made such an impact! I was, and am, moved beyond words.
I've said before that my beliefs lead me to try and understand the lesson from all of this. As I sat pondering this again the other evening, a familiar quote I've always liked from one of our favorite series, The West Wing, came to mind. It was a simple story being related:
This guy's walking down a street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep, he can't get out. A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up, "Hey you, can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up "Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here." The friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out."
I know that, when a friend experiences this very same thing (as we all surely will), I want to be the one that jumps in the hole. I will state with certainty that I have, in fact, been there.....and know the way out. Many of you have given me much to think about recently. As I said, new chapter - not the end of a book by any means. I will look back, eventually, at the previous chapters with fondness and love, knowing they shaped who I have become today. Think about that as you're going through the day-to-day. Learn to live in, and be keenly aware of, the moment. As I sit here now, I have images that I recall from the 'good times' we all experience...and I am smiling. There's much to be done and I will figure it out. No, I'm not becoming philosophical (well, any more than usual), but want each of you to take the time that I know I will surely embrace as I experience everything from this point forward. As my daughter pointed out to me in a text message earlier - Dad, I just wanted to let you know that if anything ever happened to either of us, that I love you and you're the best dad in the whole entire world. Life's too short not to tell the people you love that you appreciate everything they do for you, so thank you. People could be gone in the blink of an eye, so I don't want anything to happen, ever, without telling you that.
This from a young lady not quite 17 years old yet. Am I the best dad in the whole world? I never thought so, but if she does...if your kids do...isn't that what matters? Go. Right now. Hug them for absolutely no reason. Find your spouse/significant other and put your arms around them and whisper in their ear how much they mean to you. Kiss them on the cheek and look into their eyes...really look...and tell them how much richer your life is for having them in it. If your relationship isn't the best, think back to what drew you to them in the first place so that your grumbling and complaining might lessen. You do NOT want anything to happen without letting them know how you truly feel. It will cost you nothing but a little time...and in the end, you'll feel better, too. I'm not trying to be 'sappy' (what does that mean, anyway?) but I am here to bear witness - some of us missed chances when we had them. That goes for friends as well - tell them how you feel, always. Then, after you've done those things, walk outside and take a look around. We're still here and have much, all of us, to be grateful for. Lastly, remember to like yourself and enjoy life....and simply breathe......
Until next time...........
Sunday, March 17, 2013
A Letter of Thanks...and The Importance of Friends
Death is not easy. It's certainly not something we choose to deal with every day. Actually, it's not something we choose to deal with ANY day. Still, it happens. It is as much a part of life as living. By now, everyone reading this knows that my wife died last Sunday. Certainly not something I'd wish on anyone. Still, it forces a few things upon us when it does happen, and we are put in a position to examine, reexamine, question, and plan as never before. It is, in short, a life-changing scenario. I was asked, shortly after it happened, "Dave, why do these things always (seemingly) happen to you?" First, I don't think I have any more or less negative experiences than anyone else. My personal belief system allows me to expect things to happen as a matter of destiny, then try to understand the lesson I am to be learning from it. It doesn't work for everyone, but suits my needs. It's how I choose to deal with situations such as this and make sense of them, if even in a small way. This particular situation has brought many revelations and clearer meaning even in the short time I have had to examine it. For many, these lessons need to be shared and repeated. If what I have to offer helps anyone in the future, then the lessons and pain have not been in vain.
The first lessons I can share involve planning. I will always be the person, from this day forward, that stresses the need for planning 'In the event of...' an unexpected emergency. Allow me to ask of you a few questions. Do you have a will? If so, great - you are a head of the curve. If not, why not? Do you have your papers in a safe place where someone knows where to find them? I suggest everyone go to Wal-Mart and buy a fireproof lockbox for $25 - $30. Place your will, life insurance policies, instructions for your funeral, etc, in that box, then label it, "OPEN ME FIRST IN EVENT OF DEATH." If you think that sounds morbid, cold, callous...you ought to see what happens when you don't have this in place. A nightmare - trust me. Are your named beneficiaries current and as you truly wish them to be?" Just because you think something will go to the people you want to take care of, don't assume. PLEASE. You never know, there might be a policy you forgot to update. Your spouse might be thinking they can use that policy to help cover some of the costs of the funeral. If you haven't updated the policy, you might be gifting a former spouse that was abusive to you....all because you assumed it had been done or you were too lazy to take care of it. Look around your home at the people you love - your wife, husband, children - are you really too lazy to fill out a form to ensure they aren't struggling at the time of your death? Trust me, all you want them to do is miss you and grieve. If you were not maintaining your policies, their grief may be short-lived as they try to figure out how to cover the costs of your ill-timed demise. Please, for the sake of the people that share your life with you, plan for the eventual end. That includes considering pre-paying your funeral. It's similar to a term-life insurance policy. You make a payment for a period of 10 years, then the costs are covered. The good news is, if you make one payment and something unexpected happens, the costs are covered. 100%. Completely. Why am I making an issue of this? Because when the funeral director says, "Here's the cost for the package you've chosen," he will expect a check. No, there are no payment plans at that point. Your plan then is to hand him a check. I have yet to find a package that is less than 5 figures. Do the math and take care of paying it ahead of time. It's the message I have, and I'm spreading the word.
The other lessons I have gleaned from this experience involve the importance of friends. Not just having them, but of being one. I was amazed and speechless at the outpouring of love, caring, and kindness shown by so many people from all across the country. For what seemed like days, I was carrying two phones and receiving calls from people almost non-stop sending their condolences. In the days after her death and as the plans were being made, people began to arrive in Alabama. They came from Florida, Texas, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and as far away as the State of Washington. I received cards, thoughts on Facebook, and individual e-mails from people expressing their concern and sorrow, while asking if they could do anything. My response to these calls was to let them know that the only thing I really wanted them to do was turn back time. In the absence of that, there was nothing they could do...or so I thought. The calls I received were, honestly, enough for me. To know there are people in your life that take the time to attempt to console you during these periods, is amazing and wonderful. The fact that many of them continued to call (and still are, actually) is something that makes me shake my head in wonder and disbelief. Again, powerful and amazing. I realized, too, that many of them made the comment, as I thanked them for being there, calling, etc, "Don't be silly, you'd be the first one there if it happened to me." It's nice to have them acknowledge that as I strive to be that kind of friend. Of course, they are the same (as they showed this past week) and, truth be told, I will always be there for them. I just hope it never has to be for the same reason.
I have been blessed with amazing, incredible friends and this is an open letter of thanks to you all. The words, thoughts, prayers, kindness, and concern you have shown for me, not only this past week but in general, touch me beyond belief. You have absolutely no idea how it affects me in such a positive way. One couple could not attend...yet made certain that we were all fed after the viewing. A caterer showed up at 2:00 on the dot...and proceeded to put out a spread to feed many. We walked in to the funeral home and the floral arrangement above greeted us - something near & dear to Sharon's heart - and these were sent from our Penn State friends ('family', actually), along with a few Crimson Tide fans (more 'family'). There were coworkers of Sharon's that had not seen her for over three years...yet they always loved her and attended her service. To have someone tell you that your wife considered you the 'love of her life' is something we all want to hear, and when they shared it, it brought tears to my eyes. To have people continually call just to, "see how you're doing," is something that, for me at least, will never get old. To have a home filled with people that will share their fondest memories of your spouse, the times they spent with you both, and the crazy things the two of you did, is what it takes to ease the pain. My home was filled with laughter a few nights ago as we recalled a life that, while taken too soon, was lived as fully as possible and I appreciate all of you for making me smile. This is not going to be easy, I realize that. The support has come from my family - my daughter, my mother, my sisters....and all of you. I cannot consider you anything BUT family. I have said since the day it happened - I will continue to wake up, get dressed, put one foot in front of the other...and breathe. I said at her funeral that I wanted hers to be a celebration of life rather than a somber occasion. This situation, more than any I can recall, made me think of a quote I think we've all heard - "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." I could be incredibly, horribly sad and, though I am having my moments, will admit to being grateful that I had seven years of a great life. I consider this the end of a chapter, not the book. The rest of my journey begins now - in fact it's already begun - and I want each and every one of you along for the ride. You are my support, my family, my life. I promise to make yours as special as you have made mine. Thank you from the heart...and more than I can ever express. I love you all.
Until next time.......
The first lessons I can share involve planning. I will always be the person, from this day forward, that stresses the need for planning 'In the event of...' an unexpected emergency. Allow me to ask of you a few questions. Do you have a will? If so, great - you are a head of the curve. If not, why not? Do you have your papers in a safe place where someone knows where to find them? I suggest everyone go to Wal-Mart and buy a fireproof lockbox for $25 - $30. Place your will, life insurance policies, instructions for your funeral, etc, in that box, then label it, "OPEN ME FIRST IN EVENT OF DEATH." If you think that sounds morbid, cold, callous...you ought to see what happens when you don't have this in place. A nightmare - trust me. Are your named beneficiaries current and as you truly wish them to be?" Just because you think something will go to the people you want to take care of, don't assume. PLEASE. You never know, there might be a policy you forgot to update. Your spouse might be thinking they can use that policy to help cover some of the costs of the funeral. If you haven't updated the policy, you might be gifting a former spouse that was abusive to you....all because you assumed it had been done or you were too lazy to take care of it. Look around your home at the people you love - your wife, husband, children - are you really too lazy to fill out a form to ensure they aren't struggling at the time of your death? Trust me, all you want them to do is miss you and grieve. If you were not maintaining your policies, their grief may be short-lived as they try to figure out how to cover the costs of your ill-timed demise. Please, for the sake of the people that share your life with you, plan for the eventual end. That includes considering pre-paying your funeral. It's similar to a term-life insurance policy. You make a payment for a period of 10 years, then the costs are covered. The good news is, if you make one payment and something unexpected happens, the costs are covered. 100%. Completely. Why am I making an issue of this? Because when the funeral director says, "Here's the cost for the package you've chosen," he will expect a check. No, there are no payment plans at that point. Your plan then is to hand him a check. I have yet to find a package that is less than 5 figures. Do the math and take care of paying it ahead of time. It's the message I have, and I'm spreading the word.
The other lessons I have gleaned from this experience involve the importance of friends. Not just having them, but of being one. I was amazed and speechless at the outpouring of love, caring, and kindness shown by so many people from all across the country. For what seemed like days, I was carrying two phones and receiving calls from people almost non-stop sending their condolences. In the days after her death and as the plans were being made, people began to arrive in Alabama. They came from Florida, Texas, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and as far away as the State of Washington. I received cards, thoughts on Facebook, and individual e-mails from people expressing their concern and sorrow, while asking if they could do anything. My response to these calls was to let them know that the only thing I really wanted them to do was turn back time. In the absence of that, there was nothing they could do...or so I thought. The calls I received were, honestly, enough for me. To know there are people in your life that take the time to attempt to console you during these periods, is amazing and wonderful. The fact that many of them continued to call (and still are, actually) is something that makes me shake my head in wonder and disbelief. Again, powerful and amazing. I realized, too, that many of them made the comment, as I thanked them for being there, calling, etc, "Don't be silly, you'd be the first one there if it happened to me." It's nice to have them acknowledge that as I strive to be that kind of friend. Of course, they are the same (as they showed this past week) and, truth be told, I will always be there for them. I just hope it never has to be for the same reason.
I have been blessed with amazing, incredible friends and this is an open letter of thanks to you all. The words, thoughts, prayers, kindness, and concern you have shown for me, not only this past week but in general, touch me beyond belief. You have absolutely no idea how it affects me in such a positive way. One couple could not attend...yet made certain that we were all fed after the viewing. A caterer showed up at 2:00 on the dot...and proceeded to put out a spread to feed many. We walked in to the funeral home and the floral arrangement above greeted us - something near & dear to Sharon's heart - and these were sent from our Penn State friends ('family', actually), along with a few Crimson Tide fans (more 'family'). There were coworkers of Sharon's that had not seen her for over three years...yet they always loved her and attended her service. To have someone tell you that your wife considered you the 'love of her life' is something we all want to hear, and when they shared it, it brought tears to my eyes. To have people continually call just to, "see how you're doing," is something that, for me at least, will never get old. To have a home filled with people that will share their fondest memories of your spouse, the times they spent with you both, and the crazy things the two of you did, is what it takes to ease the pain. My home was filled with laughter a few nights ago as we recalled a life that, while taken too soon, was lived as fully as possible and I appreciate all of you for making me smile. This is not going to be easy, I realize that. The support has come from my family - my daughter, my mother, my sisters....and all of you. I cannot consider you anything BUT family. I have said since the day it happened - I will continue to wake up, get dressed, put one foot in front of the other...and breathe. I said at her funeral that I wanted hers to be a celebration of life rather than a somber occasion. This situation, more than any I can recall, made me think of a quote I think we've all heard - "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." I could be incredibly, horribly sad and, though I am having my moments, will admit to being grateful that I had seven years of a great life. I consider this the end of a chapter, not the book. The rest of my journey begins now - in fact it's already begun - and I want each and every one of you along for the ride. You are my support, my family, my life. I promise to make yours as special as you have made mine. Thank you from the heart...and more than I can ever express. I love you all.
Until next time.......
Sunday, December 16, 2012
My Grown-Up Christmas Wish...In Memory of The Kids
I've thought of so many ways to begin this post because there are so many thoughts I want to tie together. In the immortal words of Julie Andrews, let's start at the very beginning. We all know it's been a little over 48 hours since we heard the sickening (literally) news of the senseless killings of innocents in Norwalk, CT. The eldest of these was 56 years old, the majority, students, 6-and 7-year olds. I must confess, as I read the story this morning to verify these numbers, I find it difficult to read as my eyes welled with tears yet again. I don't mean to dwell on it or tear back the scab that is beginning to form as we heal, however we must. We must not forget these children and educators, for if we do, we ourselves become numb to the gravity of the situation. Make no mistake - this is a grave situation. Make no mistake here, either - I am not talking about gun control, mental illness, the safety of our schools. No, I am talking in broader strokes about our inhumanity toward each other as people. By the way, my 'Wish' I mentioned is at the end of the post. It's in the form of a challenge and I think you'll understand.
Fortunately, a friend posted something on Facebook that gave me the inspiration for this entry. They simply said that they had been a recipient of a random act of kindness. Someone in a Starbucks drive-thru, a man in the car just ahead of her's, paid for her coffee and bought her a cookie. He then drove off. Purely random, incredible, unsolicited kindness. Sadly, we look at actions such as this as extraordinary. I think that, in itself, shows where we are headed as a society. It cost him little, yet made a huge impact. It needs to happen more frequently.
As I sat here this morning drinking my coffee, I watched commercials on television and thought about the shopping yet to be done. Then, almost as quickly, the images and stories came flooding back. Yes, many of us are sitting here with family today, yet there are 26 people whose funerals are being planned. The majority of these are children. That is simply not natural and something no parent should have to endure. I imagine many of our own children were squeezed, kissed, hugged, and cried over in the past 48 hours than they had been in the past 48 days. We need to do that more frequently, too. I refuse to mention the name of the perpetrator of these acts. If the national media wants to impress me, I will gladly sit and listen about each and every child that was killed. If you want to give me a story, tell of the heroics of 27-year old Victoria Soto, one of the teachers, who died protecting her students. Tell me about the principal, Dawn Hochsprung, who died as she tried to stop the gunman. I do not care why he did it, nor do I care to hear anything more of him. Let the specialists figure out those facts, but for God's sake, stop making these people household names. You're giving them what they wanted. Stop it. Now.
I used to be concerned, in my younger years, about what people would think if I said or did certain things or acted a certain way. What I mean by that is, many of us (especially of the male gender) have been conditioned to tell our spouses and our families we love them. It is noticeably rare that you hear two heterosexual males say, "I love you," to a friend. Oh, how we've conditioned ourselves. At this point, I have to interject that I have always been surprised and proud of how my son has handled this. It's never fazed him. When I was younger, I (like many of us, I think) hated my parents being around for fear they would embarrass me in front of my friends. He, however, has never hesitated to tell his mother, father, and friends he loves them, even when he was in school. Of course, he was the starting center on the football team. Me, not so much. No one was going to make fun of him. Still, I have come to realize that what happened Friday could happen to any of us at any time. Do you really want to be the one that left something unsaid to those that matter? As I said, those were in my younger years. I will gladly tell those that matter, especially as they have been in my life for many years, that they matter and I love them. What's that? You say you can't say it to another male friend? Get over yourself - they matter, let them know how much.
Eldridge Cleaver once said, "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem." Edmund Burke also said, "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." I choose think we, as a whole, are good. I also think we need to do something. Again, we'll have the gun control, mental health, safety conversations, trust me. We all know they will come as they always do. That brings to mind another famous quote by Albert Einstein, who said, "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result." We've continued to do the same things, repeatedly, and we've see the same result. Am I the only one that thinks we might need to attack the problem from another angle? Am I the only person that shakes their head when we hear these stories, thinks that we really need to address the problem, yet assumes someone else will take care of it? Many of us do the same thing as we are too engrossed in our daily lives to try to make a real difference. Knowing the demands placed on our time, as well as realizing our current efforts are not enough, we've got to find something...anything...that will allow us to affect change while not taxing our already-stressed schedules. Therein lies the impetus for my wish.
Many of you are friends on Facebook. I have to admit, there are many 'stories' and posts on that site that say, "Click if you hate cancer, scroll if you don't." Please, people - we all hate cancer. It's ridiculous. "Click if you support our troops, scroll if they mean nothing to you." "Click if you believe in God, keep scrolling if you don't." I see many of these posts and, while we may or may not 'click', I'm going to challenge you to do something that will, hopefully, go viral and make a difference. Here it is:
My Grown-Up Christmas wish if for people to remember this quote - "Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world. You know why? It's the only thing that ever has." We seek change, yet know not how to go about it. I'd like to see people share this with as many others as possible, then commit to a single random act of kindness. To do this, daily, would make a huge impact, don't you think? I can do it, my daughter or son can do it, my family can do it...and we will see a little change. Think, though, of the amazing impact we can have if just the people reading this would do it. How much time, and at what cost, did it take for someone to simply buy a cup of coffee for someone else? We can all 'pay it forward' and we owe it to ourselves and, more importantly, our children to make the commitment.
There it is - my Christmas wish. If no more children are lost due to senseless, depraved acts of violence, we win. If teachers can go into a classroom and educate our children without having to shield them from harm, we win. If we all get to the point where we actually show love, caring, kindness, and consideration to others....win win. Big. We don't know how many Christmases we have left in our lives - none of us does - and this might be the solution that we haven't tried yet. What we've been doing isn't working. Don't we owe it to ourselves to at least try? Thank you for taking the time to read and share this. Thank you for doing something nice for someone you don't know. Most importantly, thank you for beings friends. Merry Christmas to all...and God bless us every one.
Until next time................
Fortunately, a friend posted something on Facebook that gave me the inspiration for this entry. They simply said that they had been a recipient of a random act of kindness. Someone in a Starbucks drive-thru, a man in the car just ahead of her's, paid for her coffee and bought her a cookie. He then drove off. Purely random, incredible, unsolicited kindness. Sadly, we look at actions such as this as extraordinary. I think that, in itself, shows where we are headed as a society. It cost him little, yet made a huge impact. It needs to happen more frequently.
I used to be concerned, in my younger years, about what people would think if I said or did certain things or acted a certain way. What I mean by that is, many of us (especially of the male gender) have been conditioned to tell our spouses and our families we love them. It is noticeably rare that you hear two heterosexual males say, "I love you," to a friend. Oh, how we've conditioned ourselves. At this point, I have to interject that I have always been surprised and proud of how my son has handled this. It's never fazed him. When I was younger, I (like many of us, I think) hated my parents being around for fear they would embarrass me in front of my friends. He, however, has never hesitated to tell his mother, father, and friends he loves them, even when he was in school. Of course, he was the starting center on the football team. Me, not so much. No one was going to make fun of him. Still, I have come to realize that what happened Friday could happen to any of us at any time. Do you really want to be the one that left something unsaid to those that matter? As I said, those were in my younger years. I will gladly tell those that matter, especially as they have been in my life for many years, that they matter and I love them. What's that? You say you can't say it to another male friend? Get over yourself - they matter, let them know how much.
Many of you are friends on Facebook. I have to admit, there are many 'stories' and posts on that site that say, "Click if you hate cancer, scroll if you don't." Please, people - we all hate cancer. It's ridiculous. "Click if you support our troops, scroll if they mean nothing to you." "Click if you believe in God, keep scrolling if you don't." I see many of these posts and, while we may or may not 'click', I'm going to challenge you to do something that will, hopefully, go viral and make a difference. Here it is:
My Grown-Up Christmas wish if for people to remember this quote - "Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world. You know why? It's the only thing that ever has." We seek change, yet know not how to go about it. I'd like to see people share this with as many others as possible, then commit to a single random act of kindness. To do this, daily, would make a huge impact, don't you think? I can do it, my daughter or son can do it, my family can do it...and we will see a little change. Think, though, of the amazing impact we can have if just the people reading this would do it. How much time, and at what cost, did it take for someone to simply buy a cup of coffee for someone else? We can all 'pay it forward' and we owe it to ourselves and, more importantly, our children to make the commitment.
There it is - my Christmas wish. If no more children are lost due to senseless, depraved acts of violence, we win. If teachers can go into a classroom and educate our children without having to shield them from harm, we win. If we all get to the point where we actually show love, caring, kindness, and consideration to others....win win. Big. We don't know how many Christmases we have left in our lives - none of us does - and this might be the solution that we haven't tried yet. What we've been doing isn't working. Don't we owe it to ourselves to at least try? Thank you for taking the time to read and share this. Thank you for doing something nice for someone you don't know. Most importantly, thank you for beings friends. Merry Christmas to all...and God bless us every one.
Until next time................
Friday, December 14, 2012
Typing Through Tears
It's been quite a while since I posted anything here which seems to be my new M.O. There are those times, however, that make me decide I have to vent and let my feelings out if even to be put into words appearing on a screen. Whether others read it or not, it helps me to say what I am feeling so I can come to terms with the incredible emotions being felt. Today, of course, is one of those times.
The day started as any other Friday at work, my first call coming in from a co-worker who, somewhere during the initial part of the call, was perusing the online news feed of his computer. "Oh, great. Another school shooting. Somewhere in CT. Great way to start a Friday." He was, of course, being very sarcastic. We were sharing our thoughts at the unbelievable nature of these situations only briefly before moving on to the subject of work. After a few minutes we ended the call and I began searching the web for information I needed. When I brought up my homepage, it was then I saw the depth of the situation. The reports at that time had 26 people dead - 18 students and 8 adults. I was sure this was another high school shooting until.....I saw the photos. Photos of children being led by policewomen in blue windbreakers and holding radios guiding a line of children that appeared to be in elementary school. If the caption hadn't existed, this might have even looked like a line of children heading to a bus for a field trip. Instead, it was a class being taken to safety, guided by these women. These were...children! I know that teenagers are children, too, though in these times that is easy to forget. These children, though, are 10 years old and under. Kindergarten through 4th grade. How was this possible?
We know now that there are 20 children dead. We also know there are 6 adults dead. I say children, though we might as easily use the term babies. I have a 16-year old daughter who, as any father will attest, will always be my baby. The difference, however, is that she has seen things that taught her there is evil in the world. She knows how to be 'streetwise' and aware of her surroundings. These babies have not seen those things, nor do they understand the true concept of evil. At least they hadn't known it until today. As I turned on the television, my thoughts went immediately to my 5-year old granddaughter. She spent the night with us the other evening and, best of all, wanted to bake cookies with me. She fell asleep in front of the television and, after carrying her to bed, I tucked her in safe and sound. In the morning, I got to relive times I had spent with my daughter when she was that age. I gently woke her, helped her get dressed and brushed her teeth before whisking her away to daycare. She talked the entire time we drove to school and I soaked in the memories like a sponge. I was transported back to a magical time about 12 years ago that I had, to some degree, forgotten. Today, though, I watched the television and openly wept. I felt the tears run down my cheek as I said out loud, "These were just defenseless children, you bastard!" I thought of friends and family that have young children and how none of us are ever prepared for the loss of a child in any fashion, much less at the hands of a sick, demented, twisted individual that did this for a reason no one can understand, nor one that can, in any way, be justified.
These were children whose main concern was what would be under their Christmas trees in 10 days. They were thinking about what they'd tell Santa when he asked if they were good little boys and girls and what they wanted for Christmas. They were thinking about the fun they'd have over their Christmas break. They were, most likely, thinking about this being the most incredible time of the year. Christmas, from this point forward, will be forever darkened for the families of the children that were in that school today. This will forever be an anniversary of this tragedy and will take more than a little time to heal. We will all, for some time to come, remember this as we did Columbine.
We'll spend the next few days analyzing and listening to details of why he did it, what he was thinking. We won't really care, though. Babies have died needlessly. We will talk about gun control and mental illness. We will propose and pass legislation. We will hear it on talk radio shows and national television. We will discuss it at length and, in the end, it will happen again. We will hear this news over and over again because we are drifting as a society, our moral compasses helplessly spinning. I don't profess to have the answer, though I know it is not a gun control issue that requires more worthless legislation. Every time we pass a new law, there are so many loopholes that we could drive a truck through them. There are certain guns on the market that are not needed for self-defense. This isn't the day for that conversation, though. Today's conversation is how do we help, even in a small way, these families heal?
I am, and always will be, a fan of the television show, "The West Wing." I have always thought the writing to be insightful and moving, while at times providing incredible quotes that fit our times and situations. One such quote that I think describes how I feel tonight is this:
"All I know for sure, all I know for certain, is that they weren't born wanting to do this. There's evil in the world, there'll always be, and we can't do anything about that. But there's violence in our schools, too much mayhem in our culture, and we can do something about that. There's not enough character, discipline, and depth in our classrooms; there aren't enough teachers in our classrooms. There isn't nearly enough, not nearly enough, not nearly enough money in our classrooms, and we can do something about that. We're not doing nearly enough, not nearly enough to teach our children well, and we can do better, and we must do better, and we will do better, and we will start this moment today! They weren't born wanting to do this."
Mark my words, and I have heard it from others being interviewed today, this will happen again. We need to stop asking why and become parents again. I have asked over the past several years when we stopped being able to discipline our children. I remember that spankings were thought to be detrimental to the child and that parents, if allowed to continue this practice, would far too easily abuse the child. I'd like to go on record as saying it has gotten out of control. I have seen children speak to their elders in a way that would have gotten me a quick meeting with my father's belt or hand. I would have experienced punishment (and did) that made me learn my lesson which, truth be told, was needed. We need to teach right from wrong and, though I am not an advocate of spanking and used it as an example, need to discipline our youth. Would that have saved these children? I don't know. No one does. I can say, though, that without discipline we are headed far off the course that needed to be set. Making sure we discipline our children is a responsibility and not doing so is detrimental to not just them, but society as a whole. Ask any of the parents of the children that died today. Now, here I am ranting about child discipline, not knowing if it was a factor or not. I can only assume, based on the previous situations we've seen, that it was. Parents, too consumed with giving their children everything they ask for, have forgotten to give them the things they are truly in need of - our time and our love.
In another line stolen from the series, I'll paraphrase when I say, the streets of heaven are filled with too many angels tonight. They are angles that should not be there but, rather, here waiting for that special day, Christmas. They should be here, their nights filled with the anticipation of this holiday. They should be snuggled in their beds counting down the days until that night, only 10 days from now, when they would pull the covers around them, fight sleep as long as they could, then drifted off only to awaken and run downstairs to see that the magic really exists. These were babies and we cannot imagine, even as adults, the unspeakable hell they went through today. Their friends and teachers that were fortunate enough to survive will never forget this day and will carry this with them forever. We can only hope that they will honor their classmates' memories by learning respect and discipline. We can only hope they will hold their own children close, later in life, and let them know they are loved every minute of every day.
I have ranted more than usual, written more than I should, and gone off on too many tangents. Regardless, I feel a little better and my tears have dried for now. I hope we all, from this point forward, do our parts to help each other do what we can to stop this madness. We owe it to each other, if only through random acts of kindness that we commit as often as possible.
Until next time.............
The day started as any other Friday at work, my first call coming in from a co-worker who, somewhere during the initial part of the call, was perusing the online news feed of his computer. "Oh, great. Another school shooting. Somewhere in CT. Great way to start a Friday." He was, of course, being very sarcastic. We were sharing our thoughts at the unbelievable nature of these situations only briefly before moving on to the subject of work. After a few minutes we ended the call and I began searching the web for information I needed. When I brought up my homepage, it was then I saw the depth of the situation. The reports at that time had 26 people dead - 18 students and 8 adults. I was sure this was another high school shooting until.....I saw the photos. Photos of children being led by policewomen in blue windbreakers and holding radios guiding a line of children that appeared to be in elementary school. If the caption hadn't existed, this might have even looked like a line of children heading to a bus for a field trip. Instead, it was a class being taken to safety, guided by these women. These were...children! I know that teenagers are children, too, though in these times that is easy to forget. These children, though, are 10 years old and under. Kindergarten through 4th grade. How was this possible?
We know now that there are 20 children dead. We also know there are 6 adults dead. I say children, though we might as easily use the term babies. I have a 16-year old daughter who, as any father will attest, will always be my baby. The difference, however, is that she has seen things that taught her there is evil in the world. She knows how to be 'streetwise' and aware of her surroundings. These babies have not seen those things, nor do they understand the true concept of evil. At least they hadn't known it until today. As I turned on the television, my thoughts went immediately to my 5-year old granddaughter. She spent the night with us the other evening and, best of all, wanted to bake cookies with me. She fell asleep in front of the television and, after carrying her to bed, I tucked her in safe and sound. In the morning, I got to relive times I had spent with my daughter when she was that age. I gently woke her, helped her get dressed and brushed her teeth before whisking her away to daycare. She talked the entire time we drove to school and I soaked in the memories like a sponge. I was transported back to a magical time about 12 years ago that I had, to some degree, forgotten. Today, though, I watched the television and openly wept. I felt the tears run down my cheek as I said out loud, "These were just defenseless children, you bastard!" I thought of friends and family that have young children and how none of us are ever prepared for the loss of a child in any fashion, much less at the hands of a sick, demented, twisted individual that did this for a reason no one can understand, nor one that can, in any way, be justified.
These were children whose main concern was what would be under their Christmas trees in 10 days. They were thinking about what they'd tell Santa when he asked if they were good little boys and girls and what they wanted for Christmas. They were thinking about the fun they'd have over their Christmas break. They were, most likely, thinking about this being the most incredible time of the year. Christmas, from this point forward, will be forever darkened for the families of the children that were in that school today. This will forever be an anniversary of this tragedy and will take more than a little time to heal. We will all, for some time to come, remember this as we did Columbine.
We'll spend the next few days analyzing and listening to details of why he did it, what he was thinking. We won't really care, though. Babies have died needlessly. We will talk about gun control and mental illness. We will propose and pass legislation. We will hear it on talk radio shows and national television. We will discuss it at length and, in the end, it will happen again. We will hear this news over and over again because we are drifting as a society, our moral compasses helplessly spinning. I don't profess to have the answer, though I know it is not a gun control issue that requires more worthless legislation. Every time we pass a new law, there are so many loopholes that we could drive a truck through them. There are certain guns on the market that are not needed for self-defense. This isn't the day for that conversation, though. Today's conversation is how do we help, even in a small way, these families heal?
I am, and always will be, a fan of the television show, "The West Wing." I have always thought the writing to be insightful and moving, while at times providing incredible quotes that fit our times and situations. One such quote that I think describes how I feel tonight is this:
"All I know for sure, all I know for certain, is that they weren't born wanting to do this. There's evil in the world, there'll always be, and we can't do anything about that. But there's violence in our schools, too much mayhem in our culture, and we can do something about that. There's not enough character, discipline, and depth in our classrooms; there aren't enough teachers in our classrooms. There isn't nearly enough, not nearly enough, not nearly enough money in our classrooms, and we can do something about that. We're not doing nearly enough, not nearly enough to teach our children well, and we can do better, and we must do better, and we will do better, and we will start this moment today! They weren't born wanting to do this."
Mark my words, and I have heard it from others being interviewed today, this will happen again. We need to stop asking why and become parents again. I have asked over the past several years when we stopped being able to discipline our children. I remember that spankings were thought to be detrimental to the child and that parents, if allowed to continue this practice, would far too easily abuse the child. I'd like to go on record as saying it has gotten out of control. I have seen children speak to their elders in a way that would have gotten me a quick meeting with my father's belt or hand. I would have experienced punishment (and did) that made me learn my lesson which, truth be told, was needed. We need to teach right from wrong and, though I am not an advocate of spanking and used it as an example, need to discipline our youth. Would that have saved these children? I don't know. No one does. I can say, though, that without discipline we are headed far off the course that needed to be set. Making sure we discipline our children is a responsibility and not doing so is detrimental to not just them, but society as a whole. Ask any of the parents of the children that died today. Now, here I am ranting about child discipline, not knowing if it was a factor or not. I can only assume, based on the previous situations we've seen, that it was. Parents, too consumed with giving their children everything they ask for, have forgotten to give them the things they are truly in need of - our time and our love.
In another line stolen from the series, I'll paraphrase when I say, the streets of heaven are filled with too many angels tonight. They are angles that should not be there but, rather, here waiting for that special day, Christmas. They should be here, their nights filled with the anticipation of this holiday. They should be snuggled in their beds counting down the days until that night, only 10 days from now, when they would pull the covers around them, fight sleep as long as they could, then drifted off only to awaken and run downstairs to see that the magic really exists. These were babies and we cannot imagine, even as adults, the unspeakable hell they went through today. Their friends and teachers that were fortunate enough to survive will never forget this day and will carry this with them forever. We can only hope that they will honor their classmates' memories by learning respect and discipline. We can only hope they will hold their own children close, later in life, and let them know they are loved every minute of every day.
I have ranted more than usual, written more than I should, and gone off on too many tangents. Regardless, I feel a little better and my tears have dried for now. I hope we all, from this point forward, do our parts to help each other do what we can to stop this madness. We owe it to each other, if only through random acts of kindness that we commit as often as possible.
Until next time.............
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
What I Remember...Not of THAT Day, But of That Time
I'm seeing tributes everywhere today. People stating that, "We Will Not Forget," or, "We Will Always Remember." Of course, we'll remember...how could we not? We, as a nation, lost our innocence that day. It wasn't the first time, either. A generation ago, our parents and grandparents felt a similar 'sting' with the death of Camelot. An 'ideal' was ripped from them and, together, they carried the scars of a November day in Dallas. Until 2001, we really hadn't experienced anything like that. Time, as it always does, moved forward...and so did we. Until.....
I was sitting in my car in a parking lot, talking on the phone with a coworker, when she told me a plane crashed into the World Trade Center. I, of course, assumed it to be a small plane. As we continued our conversation, I heard her gasp and exclaim, "Oh, my God! I just watched another one hit the other tower!" Instinctively, our rational minds told us this was no accident. Across the country, we rushed to turn on our televisions and radios, while simultaneously calling family members to make sure they were okay. For the remainder of that day (and well into the next), we watched, over and over, as the planes flew into the towers. We saw the scarred landscape in Pennsylvania... and the gaping hole in the side of the Pentagon. Oh yes, we'll remember...and no, we will not forget.
For all these images, though, they aren't what I remember the most. While I mourn the lives that were lost that day, I prefer to keep positive memories…and there were many associated with these horrific acts. While it's easy to dwell on the surreal images of the jets flying into the World Trade Center.....I remember the flags. They were everywhere. Suddenly, and without a second thought, the American flag was flying from, what seemed like, every house in The country. it was flown over the rubble in New York, and used cover the hole in the Pentagon. For a brief moment in time (and something we should remember right now), we weren't Republicans or Democrats - we were Americans. We weren't black, white, or Hispanic - we were Americans. We weren't young or old, rich or poor - we were Americans. I remember, too, how selfless people were in their actions. We were kinder and gentler with each other. We actually made eye contact and spoke with others with a renewed, unified sense of American pride. It was almost as if, without knowing it, we had been transported back to the 50s. We respected each other and cared for each other, all while showing the world we are the 'United' States. Personally, and with the exception of the lives lost, I thought the terrorists made an egregious error and truly underestimated our resolve as a nation.
I mourn for the families that lost loved ones that day - we cannot imagine the emptiness they must feel. I also honor the heroes of that day - those on the planes, as well as the firefighters, policemen, and other emergency workers. That's something else I remember. While the freaks that perpetrated these acts were cowardly, we still have people that are willing to run INTO burning, smoldering buildings. 343 firefighters lost their lives that day, most of whom were asked to run INTO danger... and they never flinched. The same is true for the police and paramedics....and countless civilians.
That's what I remember. The flags that represented, at a time of deep national crisis, the embodiment of what our forefathers imagined for us 200+ years ago. We certainly made them proud and stood true to their ideals. I remember our heroes - men and women who, when asked, were willing to give up their lives for another. No, we will NEVER forget...for that day alone was one of my proudest moments to be called an 'American' and was a shining example of what we, as a country, stand for.
Until next time.....
I was sitting in my car in a parking lot, talking on the phone with a coworker, when she told me a plane crashed into the World Trade Center. I, of course, assumed it to be a small plane. As we continued our conversation, I heard her gasp and exclaim, "Oh, my God! I just watched another one hit the other tower!" Instinctively, our rational minds told us this was no accident. Across the country, we rushed to turn on our televisions and radios, while simultaneously calling family members to make sure they were okay. For the remainder of that day (and well into the next), we watched, over and over, as the planes flew into the towers. We saw the scarred landscape in Pennsylvania... and the gaping hole in the side of the Pentagon. Oh yes, we'll remember...and no, we will not forget.
For all these images, though, they aren't what I remember the most. While I mourn the lives that were lost that day, I prefer to keep positive memories…and there were many associated with these horrific acts. While it's easy to dwell on the surreal images of the jets flying into the World Trade Center.....I remember the flags. They were everywhere. Suddenly, and without a second thought, the American flag was flying from, what seemed like, every house in The country. it was flown over the rubble in New York, and used cover the hole in the Pentagon. For a brief moment in time (and something we should remember right now), we weren't Republicans or Democrats - we were Americans. We weren't black, white, or Hispanic - we were Americans. We weren't young or old, rich or poor - we were Americans. I remember, too, how selfless people were in their actions. We were kinder and gentler with each other. We actually made eye contact and spoke with others with a renewed, unified sense of American pride. It was almost as if, without knowing it, we had been transported back to the 50s. We respected each other and cared for each other, all while showing the world we are the 'United' States. Personally, and with the exception of the lives lost, I thought the terrorists made an egregious error and truly underestimated our resolve as a nation.
I mourn for the families that lost loved ones that day - we cannot imagine the emptiness they must feel. I also honor the heroes of that day - those on the planes, as well as the firefighters, policemen, and other emergency workers. That's something else I remember. While the freaks that perpetrated these acts were cowardly, we still have people that are willing to run INTO burning, smoldering buildings. 343 firefighters lost their lives that day, most of whom were asked to run INTO danger... and they never flinched. The same is true for the police and paramedics....and countless civilians.
That's what I remember. The flags that represented, at a time of deep national crisis, the embodiment of what our forefathers imagined for us 200+ years ago. We certainly made them proud and stood true to their ideals. I remember our heroes - men and women who, when asked, were willing to give up their lives for another. No, we will NEVER forget...for that day alone was one of my proudest moments to be called an 'American' and was a shining example of what we, as a country, stand for.
Until next time.....
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