It's been over a year since my last blog post. It seems that I turn to writing most often to work out my feelings, and I just haven't felt the pressing urge to write lately. Until now.
Some of you have probably seen or heard rumors about what's been going on in our house. Typically, I prefer to keep these things quiet...I'm a private person, and don't feel the need to broadcast everything that's going on. My opinions, sure...but everything else, not so much. Since Josh has decided to make it public, however, I feel the need to explain what has happened.
I'm not one to bury the lede, so let's get to the facts. Josh was kicked out of our house a little over a month ago. This was not done rashly, or in anger. His mother made the decision, but only after trying everything she could to prevent it. After much soul-searching, praying, asking for advice, she made the only decision she felt she could. He had to leave.
How did we get here? Years of lying, sneaking around, stealing, drug use and an absolute refusal to get help, or even admit that there's a problem. It's difficult to watch someone you love self-destruct. Even more so when it's your child.
When Dani and I were dating, she told me about her children. She told me that her oldest son, Tyler, had the biggest heart you'd ever see, but he was a free spirit. When he's motivated about something, there is nothing in the world more important, but that sometimes means other things get forgotten about, like homework or cleaning his room. He's better about that stuff now, but the rest is pretty much still true. One of the most caring people you'll ever meet, he's become a responsible young man.
Josh was pretty much the opposite. She never had to ask him if his homework was done...it was. He was funny, charismatic, and rarely gave her any problems. When I met him, that was all pretty much still true, although little things started to change as he became a teenager. His homework stopped getting done all the time, his room became messier, he started having a bit of an attitude towards people. Of course, most teenagers are like that, so his mother didn't worry about it much.
As time went on, however, things just got worse. Josh followed a predictable pattern: do something stupid, get caught, lie about it, blame someone else, then be on his best behavior for awhile. One thing that wasn't ever included: an apology. He never admitted that he actually did something wrong...it was always a misunderstanding, an accident, or no one understood him.
In all honesty, the boy didn't have the easiest upbringing. His father hadn't been around for most of his life. His mother worked her tail off as a single parent to try and provide for herself and her two kids, but things were difficult. I think she felt a lot of guilt over that, and that guilt may have factored into some of our interactions. We would have conversations with him and about him. Neither of us knew exactly what to do, but we both could see things were beginning to spin out of control, and we tried our best to catch it.
Josh and I had our first real dust-up the night his mother went into the hospital. Dani had a lot of problems around this time, most likely at least partially caused by the stress of trying to keep it all together. She was admitted to the hospital, and they were going to keep her overnight. Josh's response? He sent me a text while I was at the hospital asking if I could take him to a friend's house. I was LIVID and tore into him about he should be more concerned about his mother than his social plans. He told me he thought it would be okay to go hang out, but needed a ride. When his mother heard it about it, she forgave him, like she always did.
Through the years, there were constant instances like this. I felt he never appreciated her or the things she did for him. There was never a Mother's Day card, or a birthday card, or a Christmas present from Josh. Meanwhile, she defended him, loved him, and tried to do everything she could for him. We didn't fight much, but when we did, it was often about him. I would come down on him for his latest indiscretion, and she would ask me to back off a bit. I was often too hard on him, she was probably too soft. Who knows how much of an effect it had on him. If I hadn't been so tough, or she had been tougher, would anything have been different? These are questions we'll always have to ask ourselves.
I don't know exactly when he started doing drugs, but I do know when it became an obvious problem. We had encouraged Josh to get a job when he turned 16, and told him about an opening at the movie theater. He applied, and was hired. While that was great, it became a hassle for us because he didn't have his driver's license. We asked him to make it a priority to get it, as it was a real struggle for us to pick him up at 11pm or midnight and get up for work ourselves in the morning. He signed up for classes, and on the day of his first driver's class, Dani took him to the school and dropped him off. We sat down for dinner, and her phone rang. It was the driving school, asking her to come pick him up. He had thought it was a good idea to get so stoned before the class that he couldn't stay awake. He was kicked out of the class, and we were embarrassed and discouraged. He did eventually get his license two years later, but not before failing his first test before he made it out of the parking lot. He had stayed out the night before the test, and was in no condition to drive...only the quick thinking of the instructor prevented him from having an accident on his first turn out of the lot.
She started taking him to see a therapist, as it was obvious that there were some problems that needed to be dealt with. The therapist suggested drug counseling and medicine for depression. He refused both, and refused to admit he had a problem. His life became nothing more than sleeping, the occasional shift at work, drugs and the bare minimum at school.
My father had a rule that I supported, and it was that once you turned 18, he would help you as long as you were in school, but once you were out, you were on your own. When Tyler turned 18, he decided he would support himself and move out with some friends. While I disagreed with his decision as I had hoped he would go to school, I admired the fact that he made a decision and stuck with it. He has since decided to go back to school, and has moved back in. I admire that admission that he needed help as well, and we're glad to help him.
Josh was obviously not interested in college. In fact, he failed out of high school his senior year. He did eventually get his diploma by going to summer school, but it was obvious that a university wasn't what he was interested in. Instead, we encouraged him to learn a trade. He told us that he was going to go to welding school, and that it started at the end of October. As the date got closer, I would ask him if he was signed up, and if he needed help paying for it. He told us no, that he had signed himself up, and paid for it himself. Obviously, we were privately suspicious, but heaped praise on him for being so responsible. He would ask for money during this time, since he was 'tapped out' from paying for school. About the same time, we noticed more and more things missing...some change here, a couple dollars there. Yet, we held out hope.
The first day of class, Dani went to the school. Josh wasn't there. She texted him to ask where he was...no response. She texted again, and he texted back, saying he was in class from 6-10 and couldn't talk. When confronted with the news that we knew he wasn't there, he then texted that he had signed up for the wrong class, and would be getting a refund. She asked for proof of this, and received no response.
Throughout the years, I have a witnessed the same scene over and over. Josh would lie to her, disrespect her, call her names, and each time, it hurt a little more. I can't count the number of times he made her cry through his actions or words. This time, though, she was resolute. She told him he had two days to get his stuff and move out. Again, no response. On the second day, he finally responded by showing up with his friend to collect his belongings. He did not apologize, he did not plead his case, he did not say goodbye. He took his stuff and was gone.
Over the next month, we didn't hear from him except through friends and hearsay. We would check on him without his knowledge, but all we ever really heard was the stories of his drug use and how much he hated us, especially her. Once, about two weeks after he left, she started worrying about him and texted him, asking if he was okay. No response, except to call her a bitch on his social media accounts and crow about her crawling back to him.
This brings us to last weekend, and the reason for him going public with this. Last week, we decided to try once again to reach out to Josh, to try and get him the help he needs. We asked him to come over for dinner. He had recently been suspended from work (issuing refunds without manager approval...my theater friends probably remember that scam), but he was still too busy to come over until Sunday. His friend dropped him off on Sunday, and he was a mess. Dani took him to dinner, got him a shower, washed his clothes, and even tended to the blisters on his feet. She talked to him, trying to re-establish the relationship. She even offered him a place to stay if he needed it. He declined, saying he was going over to a friend's house.
About the time he was to be picked up, he said he needed to go to the restroom. He opened the door, turned on the light/fan, and then closed the door to make everyone think he was in the bathroom. He went into his brother's room and closed the door. She could hear him in there, and asked him what he was doing when he came out. He said he was looking for jacket. She asked him what was in his previously empty, but now suddenly heavy, backpack, and he said nothing much, just a toothbrush, toothpaste, that kind of stuff. She made him show her what was in the bag. It was his brother's Playstation 3, some controllers, a game, as much as he could grab in what little time he had. Dani's heart sank. She asked him what he was doing...he said he wanted to 'borrow' it. We asked, if that was the case, why not ask first? Why pretend you were in the bathroom and sneak to do it? Why lie about what was in his bag?
His response was the same as it always was...indignation, things aren't what they seem, that we're assholes for ever doubting him. He laid a guilt trip on her, tried to manipulate her. When she asked for a goodbye, he told her no and stormed out. She cried, again, for hours. The next morning, he decided to go public with how much he despised her, and how unfit she was as a mother, posting as much on Facebook. And he received the response he was going for...many 'poor Josh' messages, and very little support for her.
She asked me to stay out of it, and I have, until now. I have watched him disrespect her, I've watched her cry, and I've watched no one come to her defense. He has manipulated everyone in to believing he is the victim. He is a victim, but only of himself. His selfishness and disregard for anyone or anything but himself has left him without a home and on his own. He's not without help, however. He has to earn our trust back in order to be invited back into the house, but all he has to do is admit that he needs help and ask for it. A mother's love for her son is unbreakable, even if her desire to be dragged down with him isn't.
I'm not asking for your sympathy for any of us. I just cannot abide the one-sided narrative that's out there. If you want to offer anything, a prayer for hurting mother would be sufficient.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Kathy
My intention today was to fill in more of your birth story, but the present intruded today. This morning at about 2AM, one of your grandmothers, my step-mother, passed away. Instead of continuing on about you, I wanted to tell you a bit more about her.
My parents got divorced when I was about 8 or so. Not too long after that, Grampy started dating again. Remember all the times I've told you that you were charming, and that you got that from me? Well, I got it from him. I vaguely remember the first time we met Kathy. Dad had been dating a woman named Karen before that, and whether it was on purpose or not, your uncle Rick called Kathy by that name for a while. I remember her being graceful about it, correcting him each time.
Soon, Grampy and Kathy got married. Your uncle and I were in the wedding, standing up there at the front of a big church. I don't remember much of the wedding, to be honest...it's all kind of a blur. I do remember how happy Grampy was, though. There were a lot of questions being asked at the time. Wasn't this too soon? Why did he marry her? She was fairly young and didn't have kids herself at the time....could she handle two pre-teen boys? Those questions seem silly now, almost 35 years later.
It wasn't easy, however. She had to learn to handle her new job as mother, and as I've experienced myself, it's a difficult thing to try and come into a situation like that. Uncle Rick and I were still hurt from our parents divorce, and didn't do much to help her. In fact, we actively resisted her attempts to be a mother. I'll blame your uncle more than me, but I can't say that I did much to help myself. It was pretty tumultuous for a few years there. Your uncle Rick and Kathy fought almost every day. I'll never forget what Grampy told him that pretty much changed everything. I'm paraphrasing, but it went something like this: "If you force me to choose between you and her, I'm going to pick her. See, someday, you're going to leave, growing up and moving out to start your own life. I chose her, and she chose me...we're going to be together for life."
The fights didn't necessarily stop, but after that, your uncle knew it was 2 on 1...and those are long odds. I remember one fight where she threw a spoon at him and called him "serpent-mouth"...something we all laugh at now. When you're a kid, you don't understand how difficult it is to come into a ready-made family. It's a job that is almost impossible. She deserves so much credit for sticking it out, and making it work.
I don't want to make it sound like the fights were all between Kathy and uncle Rick, though. She and I didn't fight much, but I will never forget the one fight we did have. You've heard this one before. I was a HUGE Dungeons and Dragons nerd...I had almost every book. She watched the 700 Club, and at the time, there was a lot of what is now called the "Satanic Panic." The 700 Club said that D&D was devil worship...so while I was at baseball practice one day, she threw out all my D&D books. I cried, but she stood firm. It was our one big fight...I now have replaced them all, but I understand why she did it. She was trying to protect me, which is what a mother does.
The thing about your grandmother was that although she never claimed to be the smartest person in the world, she could probably lay claim to having one of the biggest hearts. She cared so much about everyone. When I took your step-mother to meet your grandparents for the first time, it was Kathy that made her feel welcome and part of the family. The first time I had the guys over to my parents house to play cards, it was Kathy that was offering them drinks and food. And when I got in my car accident, it was Kathy that was checking on me to make sure I was okay. After I moved out, it was Kathy that kept all the newspaper clippings, awards and so on. I didn't even know she had them until years later when she presented me with a scrapbook of my childhood. It was amazing.
She was also very creative. She could sew, do needlepoint, quilt...she loved all of that. There's really nothing more special that having an item that someone made for you, and I believe you have one of her quilts. Keep it, and treasure it. She poured her heart into that stuff, and it's a tangible reminder of what she loved.
She was proud to be a grandmother, and loved all her grandchildren. Although you didn't get to see her as much because you live here, and they live there, you should know that she was SO excited to see you for the first time. You were the first grandchild, and she loved you so very much.
Death is hard. Unfortunately, this is the second grandparent you've lost this year, and I know it's not an easy thing to understand. It doesn't get any easier when you're an adult, I'm sorry to say. She had a long illness, and sometimes, as hard as it is, it becomes more merciful to pass on than to try and keep fighting it. It doesn't seem fair...she was relatively young, and this illness came out of the blue. We want to understand why these things happen, and there just really isn't a good explanation. It's one of the hardest parts of being a human being. Seeing someone we love suffer, and then having to deal with the loss, just sucks. All we can do is do our best to enjoy the time we have, and remember the time we spent with people. It's never long enough, and it hurts like hell when they're gone, but remember it's temporary...we'll see her again. And she'll no longer be in pain, and we'll have all eternity to listen to her tells us stories...something else she loved to do.
As for me, although it hurts, I'm glad that she's no longer in pain. I appreciate everything she tried to do for me, even as I fought against it. She loved deeply, and I'm glad that she loved us. May she rest in peace...we'll miss you, Kathy.
My parents got divorced when I was about 8 or so. Not too long after that, Grampy started dating again. Remember all the times I've told you that you were charming, and that you got that from me? Well, I got it from him. I vaguely remember the first time we met Kathy. Dad had been dating a woman named Karen before that, and whether it was on purpose or not, your uncle Rick called Kathy by that name for a while. I remember her being graceful about it, correcting him each time.
Soon, Grampy and Kathy got married. Your uncle and I were in the wedding, standing up there at the front of a big church. I don't remember much of the wedding, to be honest...it's all kind of a blur. I do remember how happy Grampy was, though. There were a lot of questions being asked at the time. Wasn't this too soon? Why did he marry her? She was fairly young and didn't have kids herself at the time....could she handle two pre-teen boys? Those questions seem silly now, almost 35 years later.
It wasn't easy, however. She had to learn to handle her new job as mother, and as I've experienced myself, it's a difficult thing to try and come into a situation like that. Uncle Rick and I were still hurt from our parents divorce, and didn't do much to help her. In fact, we actively resisted her attempts to be a mother. I'll blame your uncle more than me, but I can't say that I did much to help myself. It was pretty tumultuous for a few years there. Your uncle Rick and Kathy fought almost every day. I'll never forget what Grampy told him that pretty much changed everything. I'm paraphrasing, but it went something like this: "If you force me to choose between you and her, I'm going to pick her. See, someday, you're going to leave, growing up and moving out to start your own life. I chose her, and she chose me...we're going to be together for life."
The fights didn't necessarily stop, but after that, your uncle knew it was 2 on 1...and those are long odds. I remember one fight where she threw a spoon at him and called him "serpent-mouth"...something we all laugh at now. When you're a kid, you don't understand how difficult it is to come into a ready-made family. It's a job that is almost impossible. She deserves so much credit for sticking it out, and making it work.
I don't want to make it sound like the fights were all between Kathy and uncle Rick, though. She and I didn't fight much, but I will never forget the one fight we did have. You've heard this one before. I was a HUGE Dungeons and Dragons nerd...I had almost every book. She watched the 700 Club, and at the time, there was a lot of what is now called the "Satanic Panic." The 700 Club said that D&D was devil worship...so while I was at baseball practice one day, she threw out all my D&D books. I cried, but she stood firm. It was our one big fight...I now have replaced them all, but I understand why she did it. She was trying to protect me, which is what a mother does.
The thing about your grandmother was that although she never claimed to be the smartest person in the world, she could probably lay claim to having one of the biggest hearts. She cared so much about everyone. When I took your step-mother to meet your grandparents for the first time, it was Kathy that made her feel welcome and part of the family. The first time I had the guys over to my parents house to play cards, it was Kathy that was offering them drinks and food. And when I got in my car accident, it was Kathy that was checking on me to make sure I was okay. After I moved out, it was Kathy that kept all the newspaper clippings, awards and so on. I didn't even know she had them until years later when she presented me with a scrapbook of my childhood. It was amazing.
She was also very creative. She could sew, do needlepoint, quilt...she loved all of that. There's really nothing more special that having an item that someone made for you, and I believe you have one of her quilts. Keep it, and treasure it. She poured her heart into that stuff, and it's a tangible reminder of what she loved.
She was proud to be a grandmother, and loved all her grandchildren. Although you didn't get to see her as much because you live here, and they live there, you should know that she was SO excited to see you for the first time. You were the first grandchild, and she loved you so very much.
Death is hard. Unfortunately, this is the second grandparent you've lost this year, and I know it's not an easy thing to understand. It doesn't get any easier when you're an adult, I'm sorry to say. She had a long illness, and sometimes, as hard as it is, it becomes more merciful to pass on than to try and keep fighting it. It doesn't seem fair...she was relatively young, and this illness came out of the blue. We want to understand why these things happen, and there just really isn't a good explanation. It's one of the hardest parts of being a human being. Seeing someone we love suffer, and then having to deal with the loss, just sucks. All we can do is do our best to enjoy the time we have, and remember the time we spent with people. It's never long enough, and it hurts like hell when they're gone, but remember it's temporary...we'll see her again. And she'll no longer be in pain, and we'll have all eternity to listen to her tells us stories...something else she loved to do.
As for me, although it hurts, I'm glad that she's no longer in pain. I appreciate everything she tried to do for me, even as I fought against it. She loved deeply, and I'm glad that she loved us. May she rest in peace...we'll miss you, Kathy.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
Your birth day, part 1
As I alluded to in the last post, there's a story attached with your birth. Now obviously, you've heard a lot of this before. Hell, I've written about it before. But here I wanted to tell you all the parts that I left out before. It was the best, worst, and scariest time of my life, and it changed everything about me. You should know as much as I can remember.
Before we begin, a lesson. There will be a few of these coming up, so get used to it. Memory is unreliable. This is one thing you need to learn, and not forget (see what I did there?) There will come a day when you're having an argument with your significant other about something, and the crux of the argument will be that you both remember it different ways. No matter how right you think you are, remember this...your memory of something is not the same as the "truth." Not only does everyone experience things differently, your memory will 'fill in the gaps' and make it seem that you remember something, and you'll be wrong. So don't argue about the details...you probably have them wrong anyway.
I bring this up in case I screw up any of the details of this account. This is certainly the way I remember it, but who knows? If you hear something different, believe me...I'm not lying, I'm just wrong. But hopefully there's some value for you to see it through my eyes, even if we can't all agree on the details.
Wow, long post, and I haven't even really started yet! This one may get broken up into multiple parts. Anyway, let's begin. I won't bore you with all the details before you came into the picture...at least, not yet.
Let's start with some honesty. I really wasn't sure I wanted kids. I mean, I grew up always wanting a daughter, but by the time I became a teenager and saw the worry fathers of daughters had to go through (because of guys like me, no doubt,) I had changed my mind about that. I wanted a son. But when it came to it, I wasn't sure I was up for the job. I was worried that I would screw you up, that I would be a lousy father. I always thought my father was a great dad, and I wasn't sure I could uphold that standard. So when your mother said that it was now or never if we were going to have a kid, I was basically non-committal.
When a woman, such as your mother, decides she wants a baby, however, you're going to have a baby. She started the scheduling, planning the times we would be together based on her ovulation, all that jazz. I refused. Instead, I said listen, let's just 'pull the goalies', so to speak, and if God wants me to be a father, it'll happen. My thought was that there would be NO WAY God, in his infinite wisdom, would allow this to happen.
I was wrong (you'll hear this more than once, as well. Honesty, right?) Less than a month after we "didn't try but didn't prevent it, either" your mom was pregnant. And I didn't handle it all that well. I remember that she told me on a Sunday. I had slept in, and she waited for me to wake up. Once I was awake, she told me the news. I asked if she was sure...dumb question. Of course she was sure. While I overslept, she had taken two pregnancy tests. She was sure.
Here's another piece of advice for you. If you ever find yourself in this situation, the correct response is to tell her you love her and how happy you are. If you want to jump around, feel free. Excitement and optimism are key. What you DON'T want to do is respond with "I need to call my dad" and leave the room. That's a bad look.
Obviously, that's what I did. I called your grandfather and asked him how this could possibly happen. His response was that I knew how this happened...I had been there. And that I needed to calm down. Everything was going to be fine. What I needed to do at that moment was go be happy with your mother, and save the worrying for another day. Which I did. Just know this...despite my reaction, despite the shock, I was really happy that day. I didn't know then if you were a boy or a girl, if I'd screw you up or not, whether you'd be a good kid or an asshole...but I did know that there would be a part of me that would live on, and that I had changed the world. It's a pretty amazing feeling. But that's just the start.
To be continued....
Love, Dad.
I bring this up in case I screw up any of the details of this account. This is certainly the way I remember it, but who knows? If you hear something different, believe me...I'm not lying, I'm just wrong. But hopefully there's some value for you to see it through my eyes, even if we can't all agree on the details.
Wow, long post, and I haven't even really started yet! This one may get broken up into multiple parts. Anyway, let's begin. I won't bore you with all the details before you came into the picture...at least, not yet.
Let's start with some honesty. I really wasn't sure I wanted kids. I mean, I grew up always wanting a daughter, but by the time I became a teenager and saw the worry fathers of daughters had to go through (because of guys like me, no doubt,) I had changed my mind about that. I wanted a son. But when it came to it, I wasn't sure I was up for the job. I was worried that I would screw you up, that I would be a lousy father. I always thought my father was a great dad, and I wasn't sure I could uphold that standard. So when your mother said that it was now or never if we were going to have a kid, I was basically non-committal.
When a woman, such as your mother, decides she wants a baby, however, you're going to have a baby. She started the scheduling, planning the times we would be together based on her ovulation, all that jazz. I refused. Instead, I said listen, let's just 'pull the goalies', so to speak, and if God wants me to be a father, it'll happen. My thought was that there would be NO WAY God, in his infinite wisdom, would allow this to happen.
I was wrong (you'll hear this more than once, as well. Honesty, right?) Less than a month after we "didn't try but didn't prevent it, either" your mom was pregnant. And I didn't handle it all that well. I remember that she told me on a Sunday. I had slept in, and she waited for me to wake up. Once I was awake, she told me the news. I asked if she was sure...dumb question. Of course she was sure. While I overslept, she had taken two pregnancy tests. She was sure.
Here's another piece of advice for you. If you ever find yourself in this situation, the correct response is to tell her you love her and how happy you are. If you want to jump around, feel free. Excitement and optimism are key. What you DON'T want to do is respond with "I need to call my dad" and leave the room. That's a bad look.
Obviously, that's what I did. I called your grandfather and asked him how this could possibly happen. His response was that I knew how this happened...I had been there. And that I needed to calm down. Everything was going to be fine. What I needed to do at that moment was go be happy with your mother, and save the worrying for another day. Which I did. Just know this...despite my reaction, despite the shock, I was really happy that day. I didn't know then if you were a boy or a girl, if I'd screw you up or not, whether you'd be a good kid or an asshole...but I did know that there would be a part of me that would live on, and that I had changed the world. It's a pretty amazing feeling. But that's just the start.
To be continued....
Love, Dad.
Monday, September 12, 2016
New Title, New Direction
A few weeks ago, I saw the bookmark on my web browser for my blog. It had been a long time since I checked it out, even though it's always been right in front of me. I took a look at some of my old posts...some I really liked, some I find a bit embarrassing for one reason or another. I never really stopped writing, but I did stop publishing so much. I had a tendency to be a little too open with my thoughts, and that's not always a good thing...no need looking for trouble, you know.
But I did miss sharing, and I've always had an idea that I wanted to follow up on, but was just too lazy to do so. See, I have three sons...two older step-sons, and one younger son (I honestly don't know what to call him, other than my son...blood son? Genetic son? I'm not huge on labels anyway, and this one stumps me.) Anyway, the older boys were teenagers by the time I got to them, and although I've tried my best with them, they had pretty much already developed their own interests and thought about things...I mean, one is a Broncos fan, of all things!!
The youngest, however, is obviously a mini-me (although not that "mini" anymore.) We share a lot of the same interests, he acts a lot like I did at his age, he even talks like me. I'm fortunate enough that, because of our situation, I get at least an hour or so each week where it's just him and me in a car, so we talk a lot about different things, and it's fantastic.
I'm sentimental, though, and there are so many things I want to tell him that never seem to come up, and feel a little awkward when they do. Things that are boring, my thoughts on certain things, just my life. My hope is that someday, after I'm gone (hopefully not any time soon!), he will be able to read this and remember who I was. Maybe he'll learn something, maybe it'll remind him that I was a jerk, maybe he won't care but one of HIS kids will. I don't know. And maybe someone else will find it interesting as well...who knows? As always, I mostly write for me, and although this exercise is couched as letters to Jake, it's really "letters to myself that I'm sharing with Jake."
In the event that he does read this, however, and if I never make another post, I want to make sure this one thing is perfectly clear: I love you, Jake. I love all three of you boys, but there's always going to be something different about you because I've been there from the beginning. I remember the day I heard you were coming, I remember the first time I saw you on an ultrasound monitor, and I remember the first time I saw your face, no matter for how briefly (another story.) I've seen your successes, your failures, your frustrations and joys. You changed my life, and saved it. If you remember nothing else about me, remember this: I love you, son.
I know you're a bit sentimental yourself sometimes, so I'll try to make sure I don't end too many of these on a sappy note. But that message, more than anything else, I want to make clear.
See you soon. Love, Dad.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Second chances
This is one that I've been putting off for a while, but it's probably long overdue, and deserved (especially considering the last one I put up.) I took that one down...something that I don't do, but it was hurtful and I wrote it in a really bad state of mind. My girlfriend and I had just broken up, and it wasn't exactly a friendly break-up...she did some things to hurt me, I did some things (including the blog post) to hurt her, and we both, unfortunately, succeeded. That's the way things go sometimes, I suppose. I wasn't proud of it, though, and I didn't want to just leave it up as a reminder of how pissed off I was.
I don't want to get into a huge post about why things happened the way they did...I'm not sure that will serve either one of us well. We had had a rough relationship in parts...both of us had let our insecurities get the better of us at times, and neither one of us were very happy. She wanted more from me emotionally, and I needed her to be a little more independent. She felt like I wasn't plugged in, and I felt like I was being leaned on too much. Given some of the circumstances we were facing, it's not surprising that it happened the way it did.
But here's the thing...there's a core there. If you look back at some of my posts about this time last year, you can see how excited I was to meet her. I thought she was beautiful, funny, and she laughed at my jokes. I was so excited. But she was in a bad spot, trying to get back on her feet. And I'm still trying to figure out what I am, post-divorce. I felt like I still needed my space, time to enjoy what I had worked so hard to get. She needed security, and to not feel alone.
After the break-up, it only took a couple of days for us to realize what we'd done. I had withdrawn from the relationship, and she had pushed too hard. I think, in that time, we both recognized that we could do better, try a little harder, and come to a compromise that made each other happy while still maintaining our own happiness. So we agreed to do something that I'm not always a big fan of...try again. My feeling has always been that if it didn't work the first time, why waste time going through it again? Sometimes people just aren't meant to be together.
My problem here, though, was that I wasn't sure if we were or not...I had never given it the fair chance that I should have. I knew that I loved her, cared for her, wanted to be with her. I thought she felt the same way. We had both learned a lot more about what the other one needed...I needed to be more open and affectionate, and make her feel more secure. She needed to give me my space, and let things happen naturally without pushing so hard.
So here we are. And things have been going very well...I'm very happy, and she seems to be as well. I don't believe in fate, nor do I believe in trying to predict the future. We're still going to have issues, and we're going to face some of the same things that troubled us in the past. If I think about it too much, I start to worry about what's going to happen...how long can she handle living like this? What if I'm still not ready? What happens when I get in one of my 'moods' (depression can be a bitch sometimes)? Can I still make her happy? The key, then, is to NOT THINK. Today, I'm very, very happy. I have a partner, some one I can lean on. I have the freedom to figure out who I am as I re-shape myself. I'm trying very hard to give her what she needs, as well. To let her know that I'm always here, even when I'm not sitting next to her. To allow her to realize that she's so much stronger than she ever thought, but that she's never alone. To let her know she's loved, and to allow us both to learn to trust each other more. We're allowing our relationship to grow...to build the foundation that we tried to build in the first place, but due to circumstances and fears, we were unable to lay down.
Most of the time, life doesn't give you a second chance to try again. And although we can't start from scratch, we can re-build. The core of the relationship, our feelings for one another, are strong enough to make it worth the effort. I can't predict where we go from here, but I can certainly be happy that I'm 'here' in the first place. And I am...THAT is for certain.
I don't want to get into a huge post about why things happened the way they did...I'm not sure that will serve either one of us well. We had had a rough relationship in parts...both of us had let our insecurities get the better of us at times, and neither one of us were very happy. She wanted more from me emotionally, and I needed her to be a little more independent. She felt like I wasn't plugged in, and I felt like I was being leaned on too much. Given some of the circumstances we were facing, it's not surprising that it happened the way it did.
But here's the thing...there's a core there. If you look back at some of my posts about this time last year, you can see how excited I was to meet her. I thought she was beautiful, funny, and she laughed at my jokes. I was so excited. But she was in a bad spot, trying to get back on her feet. And I'm still trying to figure out what I am, post-divorce. I felt like I still needed my space, time to enjoy what I had worked so hard to get. She needed security, and to not feel alone.
After the break-up, it only took a couple of days for us to realize what we'd done. I had withdrawn from the relationship, and she had pushed too hard. I think, in that time, we both recognized that we could do better, try a little harder, and come to a compromise that made each other happy while still maintaining our own happiness. So we agreed to do something that I'm not always a big fan of...try again. My feeling has always been that if it didn't work the first time, why waste time going through it again? Sometimes people just aren't meant to be together.
My problem here, though, was that I wasn't sure if we were or not...I had never given it the fair chance that I should have. I knew that I loved her, cared for her, wanted to be with her. I thought she felt the same way. We had both learned a lot more about what the other one needed...I needed to be more open and affectionate, and make her feel more secure. She needed to give me my space, and let things happen naturally without pushing so hard.
So here we are. And things have been going very well...I'm very happy, and she seems to be as well. I don't believe in fate, nor do I believe in trying to predict the future. We're still going to have issues, and we're going to face some of the same things that troubled us in the past. If I think about it too much, I start to worry about what's going to happen...how long can she handle living like this? What if I'm still not ready? What happens when I get in one of my 'moods' (depression can be a bitch sometimes)? Can I still make her happy? The key, then, is to NOT THINK. Today, I'm very, very happy. I have a partner, some one I can lean on. I have the freedom to figure out who I am as I re-shape myself. I'm trying very hard to give her what she needs, as well. To let her know that I'm always here, even when I'm not sitting next to her. To allow her to realize that she's so much stronger than she ever thought, but that she's never alone. To let her know she's loved, and to allow us both to learn to trust each other more. We're allowing our relationship to grow...to build the foundation that we tried to build in the first place, but due to circumstances and fears, we were unable to lay down.
Most of the time, life doesn't give you a second chance to try again. And although we can't start from scratch, we can re-build. The core of the relationship, our feelings for one another, are strong enough to make it worth the effort. I can't predict where we go from here, but I can certainly be happy that I'm 'here' in the first place. And I am...THAT is for certain.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Politics (and stuff)
I've found it very interesting lately on facebook to see how much some of my friends are in to politics, and which side they come down on. It's not quite a 50-50 split, but it's close. The 'democrats' are a little more vocal, posting links and stories, while the 'republicans' show up more with just a 'like' on a particular candidate or issue. But there has been some arguing I've seen, which surprises me a bit.
Here's my deal...the world, to me, is not black and white. It's usually varying shades of gray. I'm not a republican or a democrat. Neither side truly describes what I believe. If I had to classify myself, which I seem to often have to do, it would be libertarian...let everyone live their life and have government stay the hell out of it as much as possible. But I don't agree with everything they say, either.
There are so many of these arguments that I see, and to be completely honest with you, I find them rather petty. Android vs Apple. PC vs Mac. Coke vs Pepsi. PlayStation vs X Box. McDonald's vs Burger King. Country vs Rap. Blonds vs Brunettes. And Democrat vs Republican. On and on and on.
I just don't understand it. I personally like my Android phone...doesn't mean I have to chastise you for liking your iPhone. I play games on my PlayStation 3...X Box has some great games, too. I like rap AND country (and pop, and metal, and show tunes...in case you're keeping track.) And, although I disagree with some of the policies of the current president, it doesn't mean that I hate him or think he's trying to destroy America. I don't agree with Romney, either. I believe both men are qualified, or else they wouldn't have made it this far, and both are trying to do what's right for the country. I just have to make the best choice I can for the one who seems to think the most like I do.
It's not to say that I don't get caught up in it, too, though. It's the same way with sports...I hate the University of Florida. Why? Because I'm a Tennessee fan, and that's their rival. If I were a Texas fan, I'd hate Oklahoma. But I realize it's irrational...just rooting for laundry. And it's acceptable, at least in my circle. I know I'm going to take shit from my friends when Ohio State plays Tennessee...and it's fun. There's not the animosity that seems to be prevalent with so many of the items that I see argued about.
But what really pisses me off is that so many of the arguments are "this is why your choice sucks." I find this annoying, and I tune it out. So many of the posts, especially about politics, are "this is why you shouldn't vote for Obama" or "this is why Romney sucks." This is a piss poor tactic in any debate...if you're trying to change my mind about something, the WORST way to do it is by insulting a choice I've already made. Tell me why you like your decision, try to persuade me, and I'll listen, at least for a bit. Call me an idiot, even indirectly, and my thought immediately becomes "kiss my ass" rather than "maybe you're right."
I don't know...maybe I should be taking more of a stand on things, feel more of a conviction. Or, maybe we should all stop making everything an "us vs them" proposition, and listen a bit more. Maybe we'd find that we have more in common than what we think.
Here's my deal...the world, to me, is not black and white. It's usually varying shades of gray. I'm not a republican or a democrat. Neither side truly describes what I believe. If I had to classify myself, which I seem to often have to do, it would be libertarian...let everyone live their life and have government stay the hell out of it as much as possible. But I don't agree with everything they say, either.
There are so many of these arguments that I see, and to be completely honest with you, I find them rather petty. Android vs Apple. PC vs Mac. Coke vs Pepsi. PlayStation vs X Box. McDonald's vs Burger King. Country vs Rap. Blonds vs Brunettes. And Democrat vs Republican. On and on and on.
I just don't understand it. I personally like my Android phone...doesn't mean I have to chastise you for liking your iPhone. I play games on my PlayStation 3...X Box has some great games, too. I like rap AND country (and pop, and metal, and show tunes...in case you're keeping track.) And, although I disagree with some of the policies of the current president, it doesn't mean that I hate him or think he's trying to destroy America. I don't agree with Romney, either. I believe both men are qualified, or else they wouldn't have made it this far, and both are trying to do what's right for the country. I just have to make the best choice I can for the one who seems to think the most like I do.
It's not to say that I don't get caught up in it, too, though. It's the same way with sports...I hate the University of Florida. Why? Because I'm a Tennessee fan, and that's their rival. If I were a Texas fan, I'd hate Oklahoma. But I realize it's irrational...just rooting for laundry. And it's acceptable, at least in my circle. I know I'm going to take shit from my friends when Ohio State plays Tennessee...and it's fun. There's not the animosity that seems to be prevalent with so many of the items that I see argued about.
But what really pisses me off is that so many of the arguments are "this is why your choice sucks." I find this annoying, and I tune it out. So many of the posts, especially about politics, are "this is why you shouldn't vote for Obama" or "this is why Romney sucks." This is a piss poor tactic in any debate...if you're trying to change my mind about something, the WORST way to do it is by insulting a choice I've already made. Tell me why you like your decision, try to persuade me, and I'll listen, at least for a bit. Call me an idiot, even indirectly, and my thought immediately becomes "kiss my ass" rather than "maybe you're right."
I don't know...maybe I should be taking more of a stand on things, feel more of a conviction. Or, maybe we should all stop making everything an "us vs them" proposition, and listen a bit more. Maybe we'd find that we have more in common than what we think.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Truth
Another post that I've been working on for a while...trying to finish them up.
What is truth? It seems like a simple concept...it's what really happened, right? Here's the dictionary definition:
I guess I'm looking more at the second definition. "That which is true or accordance with fact or reality." Again, seems easy enough. But the world that surrounds us seems to have such a difficult time with it, and I'm often stuck trying to figure out just what is "true."
We're faced with people who will just flat-out lie to your face. There are people who tell 'white lies', stretching the truth as far as they can without breaking it. There's lying by omission, where you don't outright lie, but don't tell the whole story. There's 'spin', a combination of white lies and/or lying by omission, where you're only telling the side of the story you want heard, not the 'whole truth.' And so many more.
There are also those people that lie to themselves. That's bad, but I don't find it nearly as troubling as those who are such good liars, even to themselves, that they start believing there own lies, so much that they can forget what the truth really is. I have a truly difficult time with them...if they don't know the truth, how can they tell ME the truth?
And how much of the 'truth' really is THE TRUTH? I think there's a large portion of truth that is my perception, rather than what is or is not. I walk in on my son, my cat, and a broken lamp (not really...just fashioning an example.) It is almost certain that the 'truth' to me is going to be that my son broke it. Now, I have a pretty honest boy, and I don't catch him lying to me often. If he tells me he didn't, I'd be inclined to believe him. But he also doesn't like being in trouble, so he has incentive to lie. If he tells me that he doesn't know how it was broken, what is "the truth?" At that point, it's likely that it's going to be whatever I decide it is, taking in as much information as I have.
So...the truth is that which is true or in accordance with fact or reality. But we rarely have all the information...we have that which we are told, and that which we observe, and our best guess. Truth seems to me to be subjective, most of the time. This is something I need to consider when trying to figure things out...there are times when I've been lied to, or the truth has been stretched or spun, or I'm not hearing the whole story, either because it's being willfully left out, or the speaker truly believes it themselves. There is also my perception, and what I decide. The media almost always has SOME agenda, some story they're trying to get across.
With all that to consider, is there any way to really know THE TRUTH, other than just deciding that it is whatever I think it is?
What is truth? It seems like a simple concept...it's what really happened, right? Here's the dictionary definition:
|
I guess I'm looking more at the second definition. "That which is true or accordance with fact or reality." Again, seems easy enough. But the world that surrounds us seems to have such a difficult time with it, and I'm often stuck trying to figure out just what is "true."
We're faced with people who will just flat-out lie to your face. There are people who tell 'white lies', stretching the truth as far as they can without breaking it. There's lying by omission, where you don't outright lie, but don't tell the whole story. There's 'spin', a combination of white lies and/or lying by omission, where you're only telling the side of the story you want heard, not the 'whole truth.' And so many more.
There are also those people that lie to themselves. That's bad, but I don't find it nearly as troubling as those who are such good liars, even to themselves, that they start believing there own lies, so much that they can forget what the truth really is. I have a truly difficult time with them...if they don't know the truth, how can they tell ME the truth?
And how much of the 'truth' really is THE TRUTH? I think there's a large portion of truth that is my perception, rather than what is or is not. I walk in on my son, my cat, and a broken lamp (not really...just fashioning an example.) It is almost certain that the 'truth' to me is going to be that my son broke it. Now, I have a pretty honest boy, and I don't catch him lying to me often. If he tells me he didn't, I'd be inclined to believe him. But he also doesn't like being in trouble, so he has incentive to lie. If he tells me that he doesn't know how it was broken, what is "the truth?" At that point, it's likely that it's going to be whatever I decide it is, taking in as much information as I have.
So...the truth is that which is true or in accordance with fact or reality. But we rarely have all the information...we have that which we are told, and that which we observe, and our best guess. Truth seems to me to be subjective, most of the time. This is something I need to consider when trying to figure things out...there are times when I've been lied to, or the truth has been stretched or spun, or I'm not hearing the whole story, either because it's being willfully left out, or the speaker truly believes it themselves. There is also my perception, and what I decide. The media almost always has SOME agenda, some story they're trying to get across.
With all that to consider, is there any way to really know THE TRUTH, other than just deciding that it is whatever I think it is?
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