Tag Archives: dad

April 12, 2024 · 11:10 am

Choose Your Reaction

I have had three moments recently that reinforced the power of choosing my reactions to situations. Did I make the right choice? Overall I think so, but let me share these three dots…

First situation was a few days ago. It was time for dinner but our youngest daughter was not home. She is 10 years old. We knew where she was, she had ridden her bike to a friend’s house about eight blocks away. Frustration started to boil in my chest as the food was almost ready to serve and there was no sign of my daughter.

I decided to take the car to go get her. In my head I was mad because she should know to come home around 6 p.m. because we usually eat at that time. But then I thought of the fact that she does not have a phone or even a watch. Also, the weather is getting nice, she is a kid playing with a friend… time has no influence on her, just me.

I saw them on the driveway playing some kind of ball game. I rolled down the window. The moment had come to decide how I was going to handle the moment. Yell at her? Lecture her about being responsible?

“Time for dinner!” I said.

“OK,” she replied, smiling. She hugged her friend then got on her bike. She peddled next to me as I told her how fast she was going.

As we sat down to dinner she told me that she had asked her friend’s dad to let her know when it was 6:15 so that she would come home in time for dinner.

Second moment was yesterday at track practice.

I chose to yell. OK, more like raised my voice and brought out my frustrated energy.

Now, I did not yell at a single athlete or put anyone down. But I stood in the middle of the discus ring while the throwers stood around me. Their attitude and focus was shabby as they did some power throws. No left arm. Not smashing the bug (turning the right foot). Being smooth with their release… discuses were wobbly or 90 degrees. I was frustrated that the fundamentals were lacking, especially since this was the seventh week of the season. I let them know.

I am not a coach that yells. I stay pretty level, even when good things happen. I needed their attention. I got it. Practice afterwards was much better regarding focus and execution of the fundamentals.

The last moment was just this morning. My third daughter (age 14) came to my room before school started. She was obviously in a bad mood. As a dad I asked about it. (I know all you parents are already reacting… wrong move.) She replied that the question was annoying and put her earbuds back in.

My first reaction was to match her energy back at her. But I pushed the frustration down. I told her I was asking because I cared. She didn’t respond back. I continued to get ready for the day. My chest was still a little warm, but reminded myself that she was a teen, it was the morning. (I swear I didn’t say a single word to my second son in the morning all through high school.) 

I went to get a ladder because I had to put up some posters my students made, when I returned my daughter asked if she could help. She wanted to climb the ladder. She took some funny pictures and helped me put up the posters. 

Our emotions rise quickly in any situation, positive or negative. And there is nothing wrong with the emotions, but how we react to the situation and to the emotion dictates the outcome. My relationship with my daughters could have been bruised if I had yelled at them. My athletes needed a wake up call.

We do have a choice on how we react. It makes all the difference in some of the most important moments of our lives.

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January 14, 2024 · 8:20 pm

Blueberry Muffins and a Snow Storm

We finally got out of the house today. It was late morning, we had our traditional Sunday morning breakfast, but we were running low on milk and other supplies because we stayed home for two and a half days as another snow storm hit our area.

During the last three days, I adventured out a handful of times to clear a path on the driveway. I battled new drifts each time. And of course had to deal with the pile of snow the plows leave at the end of the driveway every time they clear our cul-de-sac.

It was cold! No, we do not own a snow blower, so I cleared the driveway (four times) with a shovel. Besides taking a lot of time, it was peaceful work. Scoop, fling, repeat. I watched the drifts fall and found my way to the street. Of course I had to repeat the process because of the storm, but it was good work.

After muffins this morning, I had to tackle a new drift. The wind had died down during the night and this drift was a piece of cake compared to the first round. I had our driveway cleared in less than 20 minutes.

But what struck me this morning was how fast a new routine was developed. Of course the storm lasted for two days, but in fact I have the routine of clearing the driveway whenever there is a storm. And I scoop, fling and repeat.

Routines get a bad rap sometimes. I understand that, especially when a routine feels never ending. I was tired of seeing new drifts form on the driveway, yet as I cleared the snow I saw the street get closer. Some routines are never ending… washing dishes, laundry, just life in general can feel mundane.

But, if we hold to that thought, the routine will feel heavy and joyless. I enjoyed shoveling the snow. I enjoy making muffins every Sunday, and tonight I washed dishes while listening to music. I stopped to dance to one of my favorite songs, “Remind Me” by Tom Grennan. My daughters laughed, my wife gave me ‘the look’ but I was enjoying the moment. (Of course I was wearing headphones and I can’t sing very well!)

Because without the routines, what would happen to our everyday life? If I don’t shovel the driveway, we are running out of food. Let alone the dishes or laundry. Routines are small moments that help make life run smoothly, but more importantly, opportunities to feel everyday joy.

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January 13, 2024 · 9:53 am

Life Encyclopedia

In 2021 Kevin Garnett wrote a cool book, KG: A to Z: An Uncensored Encyclopedia of Life, Basketball, and Everything in Between. Instead of a traditional narrative structure, KG told his story by creating a personalized encyclopedia. The reader could look up a topic or word to read his insight or his story connected to that word like an encyclopedia. It was a cool book to read.

The past 10 months have been challenging. My perspective has been challenged on many different levels. Certain words or ideas have been the focus of some of those challenges. I thought it would be useful to use the same organization KG did for his book for this blog post. So, here is my Life Encyclopedia.

Art: The expression of the heart. See also, music, poetry, writing.

Blogging: See writing.

Death: The natural end of our time here. Everybody knows that death awaits for us all. Yet, we do not actually live like we know this truth. We waste time on petty issues, or involved with our screens in some mindless activity. We tend to live like tomorrow will always be there, so we feel like we can let today slide. I wonder what life would look like if we actually lived like we knew our time here ends.

Dreams: I debated on whether to use ‘dreams’ or ‘goals’ for this section. I decided on ‘dreams’ for two reasons. First, it sounds more poetic. Second, I feel that a dream can be accomplished, but even then a dream can still pull at your heart. And chasing our dreams should be part of our everyday existence. The pursuit of making our dreams a reality is what fills our spirit. Makes the hard days easier to endure. Our dreams are our purpose for being here. Some dreams change, some become reality, while we chase others our whole life. That is the beauty of having a dream.

Family: This is the most complex life topic I’ve been dealing with over the last year. Family has been a central issue all of my life. From living separately with both biological parents, to walking away from most of my bloodline, that allowed me to start my own family. 

There is the crutch of the idea of family. As a dad I have a saying (OK, I have a handful of sayings), “Family gets your best behavior.” The heart of this is to remind everyone that the most important people should not be treated better than strangers. Yes, there are disagreements and challenges to work through, but they are handled with love. Our home is the safest place in this world for everyone.

I never felt safe or truly loved growing up. I knew that, at different times, that alcohol and other people mattered more than me. Even as I’ve learned more about who my biological father was after his passing, I still wonder why I didn’t matter. Why their son was not worth their time or love.

Blood doesn’t define family. I mattered to Wayne and Janine (for new readers, Janine is my mom that passed away last summer). I found a home that was filled with love that showed me what a family could be like. No, it wasn’t perfect. This household isn’t perfect, but the foundation is love and acceptance. That is how a family is built.

Friends: Yes, a friend can be seen as family, but I think real friendship is its own unique relationship that allows it to be a separate component of life. I don’t have a lot of real friends. Oh, I have many friends and acquaintances, but honestly, I have one best friend. We have been friends since junior high. Yes, we have had some rough spots, and yes, it was over a girl, but what makes our friendship strong is knowing that we have each other’s back. We share our dreams and hardships. Even though we are miles apart, we do fun things, like right now we are sharing our top 100 songs of all time, but doing it one day at a time. We have been there for the big moments; we both were each other’s best man for our weddings. A friend is part of your foundation that brings a different kind of joy and support. 

Learn: The act of becoming who you are through different means; such as reading, living, questioning and other experiences.

Life: This moment right now, which is a mix of the past, dreams for the future, and the current emotion to create a unique experience for all of us.

Love: The center of life. 

Music: One of the many artistic elements that build bridges between people. For me it is a sanctuary. I always had the radio to accompany me when I changed houses, changed parents, changed my life. There is nothing like sharing a song with someone, finding common ground in lyrics and music.

Poetry: The way I understand this life. The artist way I can make sense of my emotions while processing the questions I have about how life unfolds. By writing poetry I understand myself more. By studying the art form I become better at writing, but also thinking, which allows me to come to terms with both the joys and sorrows of this life. Poetry also allows me to build connections with other people, other artists, other poets. I do not trust many people, but I trust poetry.

Real: My word for this year. This might be the hardest word for me because I do not show the real me to too many people besides in my poetry and other writings. The reason for this blog post is me trying to live by my word. At the moment I am skeptical that I can live up to it in this world that is quick to destroy anyone that tries to be real.

Writing: Poetry is my first love, but I wrote my first short story in fifth grade. I have been blogging for decades now. Writing, in all forms, gives me a sense of being. In a way it allows me to be the real me. Writing is like praying for me, even at this moment I have my “Writing” playlist going, I am pondering questions of the past, considering a few future opportunities I have and feeling some strong emotions that encompass a broad range – I am living.

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January 3, 2024 · 9:58 pm

A Son’s Reflection on Death

If you are a faithful reader of my blog you know I write a lot about being a father, but this blog post will be written as a son. And I have no idea where it will go. All I know is that I need to write something to help deal with finding out today that my biological father has passed away.

There are so many emotional elements that I am processing right now.

The first is dealing with the third death in less than a year. The harsh reality that our time here is limited and unknown. But I’m going to leave this topic for another day.

This post is about me as a son. Of spending most of my life dealing with the question of why I was never important enough for either of my parents to love me, to raise me, to guide me in this life. And now I won’t have the chance to ask my father… or as any son deeply desires, to know if he was proud of me. 

A blog post is not enough space to tell my whole story. To bring forth the pain his absence created in my life and does still to this day. And I am scared of the feelings I will have tomorrow.

He never saw me play football in high school or in college. He has never seen his six grandchildren. I never had my father to ask advice from. He lived his life as if I wasn’t here. 

And yes, I know that some of you are asking why I didn’t reach out to repair the relationship. First, a single blog post can not cover the craziness of my younger years. The alcohol and drug use my parents partook in, living with them with their new wife or husbands, moving from city to city. As I grew older, I understood how I was seen as a burden at times or other times simply forgotten by both of my parents.

And as I started a family, worked at being a good dad, I became even more angry at both of my parents because I did a good job of being a dad. Yes, it was hard at times, I have sacrificed for them, but I am proud of my kids. And that deep rooted question grew even more in my heart.

Why couldn’t my parents love me? Why wasn’t I worth their time?

There was a moment when my father and I reconnected for a brief second. We saw each other in person (a crazy story) and a few letters were sent back and forth but in the end it was clear that nothing had changed. I wasn’t a son he wanted to be a father to (he had another family). So I went on living my life, never having the question answered. 

But I am his son. And it hurts to even think about what could have been, maybe what should have been. 

I believe all children, but especially sons, just want to know that their father is proud of them. Sadly, now, I will never know. I am left believing he didn’t care… and that hurts the most.

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October 7, 2023 · 8:01 pm

A Simple Sentence

I have had a small phrase tumbling in my head for a few weeks. I’ve wanted to write about it the day I heard it, but life has been pretty busy, and I think it wanted me to experience some dots connected to the phrase before I wrote about it.

This post will center more on the phrase and the thoughts I have about it in our lives. The moments I experienced (the dots) may be mentioned, but sometimes the lessons are for me, not the blog.

At church, a couple of weeks ago, during the sermon, Father said a simple sentence that just woke me up. It was one of those moments when a truth hits hard because you hear it in a new way or from someone different. If you are a constant reader of my blog you might be surprised why this phrase hit me so hard because you’ve read posts that align with what Father said… 

He said, “We are free to love.”

I’m not even sure what the homily was about, my mind and heart just took off with understanding and agreement. Then questions on why we don’t live this…

Let that sit for a moment. Feel the liberating sense of joy bubbling deep inside your chest. Knowing that you can smile, tell someone to have a good day. You can dance to your favorite song. Hug your kids. Hug your parents. Write a poem (or a blog post). Walk under the stars and let the knowledge that you are standing under a million stars. That you were given this moment to love… to love life, to love others, to love yourself.

Why don’t we live this way?

In answering this question let me share just a little bit about one of the dots life gave me, my mother’s memorial. It was a graveside ceremony that my dad presided over. I read two poems at different times during the ceremony. When my dad brought up the moment I became part of the family, I broke down a little. See, my parents did not have to include me. My siblings did not have to include me. It’s a long story, but they chose to love me as a son, as a brother, as family.

The first part of why we don’t live with the ‘freedom to love’ is choice. Now I’ve written about this in a number of past posts. But there is something different about the mindset to the idea  of ‘the freedom to love.’ The choice to love is more of a gift of ourselves than a responsibility we check off of our to do list. And I love giving gifts!

But giving a gift has its risks, which is also why we don’t live such joyful lives. REJECTION and all the complicated emotions and pain that come from someone rejecting our gift, in this case our love.

Not going to sugar coat this. It hurts. It can break us when we love someone with every space available in our hearts, and they walk away.

I don’t have a magical potion that will take that pain away. I’ve been there, I still deal with the effects of some devastating moments. What I know is that giving my love to people that accept my gift is one way to heal. I also know love may be the only thing that grows the more you give it away. we are free to love as much as we want.

We are free.

We are free to love.

To love others, to love life, to love ourselves.

I hope you accept this blog as my gift to you, with love.

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September 3, 2023 · 10:46 pm

What Death has Taught Me

Which song should I play as an intro? “Live Like You Were Dying” by Tim McGraw? How about Kris Allen’s “Live Like We’re Dying”? I’ve got some more songs that didn’t make the radio but have the same message. 

And I agree with the message. But death is not a pop song. A life isn’t 3 minutes and 20 seconds long. The death of my mom this summer and the death of my wife’s mom yesterday morning has taught me some hard lessons that you won’t find in any lyrics because there are some tough things to process.

The hardest lesson is the reality that death brings the end of a life. That’s it. One moment they are in this world, there is a chance, a hope, possibility to talk, to eat breakfast. After the last breath, that is all gone. As I stated in an earlier post, there is not even a today for that person, for us. Their story has ended.

Even as a poet I can’t describe the empty space in life that death makes when someone has passed. When I went home to visit my dad this summer I felt it in the house. Yesterday, we visited my father-in-law and I felt that same emptiness in the house. They are just gone. 

I know there are memories, pictures, and the effects of the relationship built with someone. But the physical reality of them not here challenges my heart. There are no hugs, no laughter, no opportunity to share moments with them. There is a silent emptiness that reminds me that they were here. 

Both my mom’s and my mother-in-law’s death destroyed them physically. Which in turn took away a part of who they were as people. My mom couldn’t read her mystery books or take walks. My wife’s mother hardly moved, she was in and out of consciousness. The fear in my mom’s eyes haunts me. My mother-in-law’s painful mumbles echo in my head. 

Part of who we are is connected to the condition of our bodies. When the body starts to deteriorate, so does our ability to be who we are. I had never held my mom’s hands so much as I did the months leading up to her death. At times that was the only way to say I was there. To say I love you. 

Death is not a final scene with soft music playing in the background. It is a harsh reality that challenges everyone. 

Then there is life, which continues, even as I mourn the loss of two mothers, two wives, two grandmas. Two stories that have ended. Yet, the sun rises each morning. Orion appears in the night sky. Other stories are being told all around me.

I don’t want to live like I’m dying. I want to live so that when the time comes for my story to end, my loved ones can close the book and say, “that was a good story.”

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July 30, 2023 · 8:23 pm

Blueberry Muffins and Time

It is Sunday and faithful readers, you know we had blueberry muffins for breakfast. But this morning I got to travel forward in time, at least a little bit. At breakfast there were only my three youngest daughters with my wife and I. This will be our normal Sunday morning crew in a few weeks.

Today we held an open house for my in-laws’ home. Below are two pictures of the tree in their front yard. The winter picture is from 2011. The other picture was taken today.

The connection? Time.

More specifically, how time changes everything. There are good changes. There are regrets and heartbreak with some of the changes. 

We all know the cost of time. I don’t think we live our lives with that knowledge, though. If we did, our daily life would be drastically different. We would love without fear. We would dance more. We would eat cereal at midnight and our desserts first at restaurants.

But time is a tricky one to catch, because what happens is that we look up one day and a dozen blueberry muffins will be too much for just my wife and I. Time changes everything, even if we don’t see it.

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July 26, 2023 · 7:24 pm

I am Sad

Grief is an interesting monster. One that feels comfortable in the dark or the sunlight. It can rise up to stand as tall as a giant but be light on its feet. Moving so fast you can’t hold on to it, yet still in grief’s shadow. Or the monster can shrink down to sit in your hand, but be so heavy that you have to use both hands to hold it. Its weight making your knees bend, taking all your energy just to stay upright.

I am sad.

I am sad because of the passing of my mom. And I know part of the lingering feeling is that we will have the memorial for her in September, when all the family can be there. A milestone in the grieving process has not happened.

But there have been other milestones that have fed the monster. She passed away just a few days from her birthday and a few weeks before my parents’ 52 anniversary. Life moments that should have been celebrations. 

I am sad. 

I am sad because death is the end of the story. Even while my mom was in the hospital, there was hope, there was the idea of tomorrow. So many things that were possible with tomorrow. There isn’t now. There is no tomorrow. There is no today. I used to send pictures to “Mom and Dad” on my phone. Now, I send them to just “Dad”. 

That’s why I am sad.

The monster attacks without warning. I never know the monster’s size or its intent. I only know that I am sad.

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July 22, 2023 · 7:31 pm

Sunshine and Storms

While we were in Wyoming we got rained on while the sun was shining.

The family was leaving the hotel. We stepped out onto the sidewalk under bright sunshine, then we were hit with big drops of rain. Enough to get us wet, but not soaked. My three daughters, who have never been to Wyoming, darted to the car laughing.

They had never seen a sunshower before; where wind carries rain from miles away. For a moment we were caught in a storm while the sun was shining.

I laughed as my girls clamored about what had just happened. But as I started the car, hitting the wipers, I thought the moment was a perfect metaphor for the day, for life in general. At any moment rain can appear, a storm, even if the sky stays clear and sunny.

There is a moment in the book Tuesdays With Morrie that captures this idea. Morrie is leaving the hospital after being diagnosed with ALS and the sun is shining. He shares how he was angry at the day for being so beautiful while he was facing devastating news. How could the world be so wonderful while he was dying?

I understand Morrie better after these last six months with my mom’s battle with cancer and her death. As my wife and I made quick trips to see her, I would feel the tension between the beautiful skies and the fear and worry of my mom’s health. On one trip my wife and I went downtown to get a coffee. It was a beautiful day. The baristas were wonderful. The coffee good. My wife and I sat enjoying a mint brownie. But we talked about what the future could be like without my mom in it, what would dad do, and when we should bring the kids to say goodbye.

Sunshine and storms. Smiles and tears. Wonder and fear. A life. 

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July 19, 2023 · 7:46 pm

I don’t know what I’m writing

Seriously, this may be the most organic blog post ever. As I write these words, I do not know where my thoughts will take this blog. You have been warned.

I am sitting in my chair, rolling with my “Deep Thought” playlist and Pearl Jam’s song, “Just Breathe” is playing. I am trying some new coffee, which isn’t too bad. And I am lost.

Ohhh, “Bad Man’s Song” by Tears for Fears just started playing. Love this song! You should check it out.

OK, back to being lost. Besides on what to write for this blog post, I am feeling adrift at the moment. Part of that feeling stems from visiting my dad back home. The energy in the house was missing my mom’s gentleness. Her soft laugh. There was an undertow in the house as if life was trying to find a way to fill the emptiness in the house, but it didn’t know what to fill it with.

Life continues going no matter what happens to us as people. My mom died just a few days before her 69th birthday. Earlier this month was my parents 52nd anniversary. My dad has major holidays coming up. But even harder milestones will be the first University of Wyoming football game, then the start of basketball season. Let alone, drinking coffee alone each morning.

This life is an amazing gift but comes with responsibilities that challenge our very being. The first is that we are responsible for the quality of our happiness.  Even when others try to destroy us, tear us down. Even when the randomness of life breaks us. We are still responsible for every breath we take. It is a heavy load to carry, especially if we run from it.  Which I fear too many people do in so many different ways.

But to move through hardships, you have to move into them. And that means feeling the pain, screaming at God, crying when a song moves you to. I had never hugged my dad as he cried before until this visit. The moment needed to be felt, instead of running away from it.

We then drank coffee together in the kitchen. Yes, there was still an emptiness in the room, but we helped life fill it with love and the pictures he showed me of last fall when they went hiking. There was my mom smiling on a bridge in her University of Wyoming gear.

I’ll end with a song that played while I was writing… (Seriously it did!)

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