Saying Goodbye

The rain slowly falls - drip, drip, adding even more sadness to the day at hand.


Piece by piece, lives are slowly being changed.  Days like today, it's hard to see the good in it all.


But it is there.


Relationships made, friends loved, battles fought, small victories won.  But most importantly, memories made together.


And the rain continues to fall.


For some the end has passed - others, it ends today.  For several of us, the end is yet in sight.  Like dying a slow death, time has flown, and it has crawled, all leading to today.


Drip, Drip. Drip.


This loss has yet to fully sink in.  Sitting next to two empty cubicles, reality is hitting me little by little.


Of course I know the future holds more.  I have Hope that passes all understanding.


But that is for tomorrow.  Today is for a small amount of remembering, and a tad bit of grief.


The whistle blows.


Time for Work. Working amidst the slow pattering of rain.

Settling In

It's a balmy Sunday night.  My heart and head are full of so many thoughts to share that "rest" right now isn't really attainable at the moment.  Like a pot about to bubble over, I've got so much to share and not enough remaining hours in the night to say all that needs or wants to be said.  But I'll give it my best :)

We're settling in to our new place and for a basement apartment, it's fantastic.  Nicer than we could have ever expected, moving was as hard as I thought it would be - being older doesn't make it easier of course.  This time around, however, we were smart and gave yourselves a few days with plenty of help.  Thanks to the grand old Ikea, we've really been able to make it our home. The wife is happier than I've seen her, because it's ours and (the apartment at least) isn't being shared with anyone else other than our family.

To be honest I thought it would be harder than this.  Getting adjusted, missing them.  But apparently it's not.  If anything, it's freeing me up a bit more to think.  And, thanks to the advice of my trait marker buddy, I'm slowly making some lifestyle changes in an effort to reach a bit of a better balance in my writing and reading.

One thing I love to do is find old books.  After another visit to our library, I've managed to find another.  This one published in 1942, it's a collection of short stories, with several popular authors.(Note: I've tried to enter it but blogger is not working with me tonight).  Authors include Ernest Hemingway (The Snows of Kilimanjaro) and the Red Pony by John Steinbeck.)  Smells like an old book, feels like an old book as the binding is slowly falling apart.

Recent days have bee filled with school supplies purchasing and uniform finding. I've been greatly amazed at how quickly Stephy went from not wanting anything to do with school, to asking me about it daily :)  Just the other day she was telling us she never wanted to grow up, and to be honest, neither did I.  Those beautiful moments we share with our kids at the ages between 3 1/2 and 5 are unforgettable.  Who wants those days to pass quickly? Full of wonderment and awe, I'm constantly reminded of how much we love her and how much she loves us. 

In just a matter of a few days, we'll be walking her to school, like so many before have done.  I confess that at times it gets depressing.  Enjoyable of course, but a little sad too.  I have to remind myself that this is not all there is.  There's more waiting for me on the other side . . . .

Kindergarten

Dear Daughter,

We're just a few days away from your first day of kindergarten.  It's amazing how quickly you've come to like the idea of school, when just a week or so ago, you wanted nothing to do with it.  You even told me at one point that you wanted to stay little forever, as you quietly sucked your thumb and held your favorite blanket tight. I hate to admit it, but I actually liked the idea.  These last couple of years have been so wonderful, so precious with you, I just can't seem to get enough.

Now, you can't wait to go, and honestly your Mom and I are still struggling to let you go.

We have so many memories together in just the last five years, it's impossible to list them all.  Trips to the park, trips far away and to places near and dear.  Nights in watching a movie. Los tres, los tres! we yelled as we kissed you and held you tight.  There were so many nights you'd fall asleep before one of us got home, and we passed the time watching your angelic face as you slept, your chest rising and falling with every breath.

Even as I get older and my memory slowly starts to fade, there are things that are etched permanently in my mind.  For example, I still remember the day you were born like it was yesterday.  We waited to have you, you know.  We were working on your older sisters' paperwork, and always wanted them to feel a part of our family, regardless of the distance.  So we waited some time before you were born so that they could feel a part of it all.

So we planned, and waited, and planned some more.  Looking for clothes, food and furniture in the smallest of places.  So. much. fun.  Yet nothing could prepare us for the love we wold feel for you, nor the wonderful experiences we would share and the memories we'd make together.  Your mother would constantly talk to you as you waited to be born, with such loving words and compassion. I was always moved by her love for you, even in the midst of a difficult pregnancy.  Since you were my firstborn, I found myself constantly searching the internet for your different stages of development, foods for you to eat and what to do.  The day you entered this world, we wept in joy, grateful for the gift that God had given to us.

During those first few months, your mom was a trooper, being patient with me as I learned a new role.  I struggled at first (a lot actually), but she kept at it to help me be the dad I am now.  And you grew, slowly at first, but then quickly.  As you continued to grow so did our love for you, in ways I'd never imagined.

Then you started to crawl, then to walk, and then to form words.  I was constantly amazed at how quickly you developed.  Even the words you didn't know as well, you pronounced with such great force (Shashasocky - chocolate) - words only a parent would understand and love.  There were the vaccinations, the questions, the scrapes and bruises, all part of the wonderful cycle that is a family.

Then your sisters arrived, first the one, then the other, and you accepted them as your own. And while I know the adjustment of not being the center of all our love and attention was hard at first, you adapted and loved them. You've also made friends over these few years, and it has been my joy to watch you become generous and loving to them, slowly understanding the big world around you.

And now my baby girl, you stand so tall these days at the age of five, ready for the next step.  I must confess I'm not ready to let you go just quite yet.  Can't we just wait a little while longer to enjoy these last few summer days?  But it doesn't matter does it? You see, life keeps going whether we are ready for it or not.  All we can do is thank God for the memories we have and entrust you to Him for your future.

So as you begin yet another stage in your life, I pray that you will know that your Mother and I love you with all of your hearts.  We want you you to know that we support you in all you do, and are so grateful for these last five years.  We are here for you, honey, always and forever as long as God allows.  We are so very proud of you and what you have accomplished.  It has been an absolute joy to watch over you as you grow.

Have a great day your first day of school, honey.

Love,

Mom and Dad

New Adventures

I tried to find a cute meme or quote to start this blog post.  I quickly realized it was useless.  The quote I was looking for had to do somewhat with change and life.  Thought it would be cute to include something like that, but I wasn't feeling it.  There are some stories that are written, years in the making and I'm learning you can't always sum them up in neat little packages. I've had this topic on my heart for a few days, even seeks, knowing I'd want to write about it at some point.  Today seems to be that day.

I wonder how I'll remember this summer ten years from now.  I guess one of the things that'll stand out is CHANGE.  A year ago we were in Virginia Beach, enjoying our family vacation.  Personally, I don't like the beach.  I've got extremely fair skin, so the combination of sand and sun don't much appease to me.  To the rest of my family, however, it does.  They seem to bronze like the ancient goddesses past with such ease - even Stephanie goes from pale to brown.  Me, I simply burn, and then go back the pale white of my forefathers.  But we ended up having a great time, visiting the aquarium and making some great memories.

As my title states, there are several changes coming.  Stephanie will be starting school soon (a separate blog post for that one), my job has some uncertainty in the ensuing months, and in the next few months we are moving to a smaller place.  Sure I've moved before, but this time it's different.

I've learned alot these last 10 years, and one of the joys I've been able to experience for the first time is the unconditional love of a family.  I still remember meeting Fer for the first time.  My relationship with his sister, my wife, was just starting.  He was young, 18 I think, and a blast to be around.

He's always been close to his family, to my wife in particular, and he was always supportive of our relationship, something critical for us both.  One of the most challenging stages I think in a cross cultural relationship are those first few months.  It seems that you have everyone in your life, both family and friends alike, who try to "help" you.  They constantly explain to you there are differences, and warn you of the impending doom that awaits.  Not Fer, though.  

After sometime, he met his (now) wife, Kittie.  In an effort to save money, we shared housing.  And it just seemed to click.  Years came and went, and with the exception of about 18 months, we've been together ever since then . . . 

 Learning, growing, celebrating together . . . .

enjoying the good times and the bad, as families always do . . . .

As in any case, it's never been a bed of roses.  You're going to have disagreements because, well people change.  They grow up and become their own person(s).  That's life.  And for a while it was hard for me to accept that.  Fernando and Kittie were part of our family, the family that I never had had.  And the beauty of it was they accepted me - regardless of our differences, language and cultural and personality.  Because at the end of the day, whatever the situation was, there was always love and respect.

I've learned is to never underestimate those younger than you, or presume they can not teach you anything.  For what it's worth, I'm a living example of that.  Through many of the hardships I've had in life, one of my handicaps was my inexperience of having a family.  So when Stephanie was born, I was deathly terrified because I wasn't sure what to do.

But those two were so patient, loving and kind.  They didn't say much, only showed me what to do through the way they treated me and those I loved.  There were the first ones there when Stephanie was born  

always there for birthday parties . . . . .

and for pretty much every holiday we've had over the last 8 years  . . . . .

and loved us like only family can . . . .

Imagining daily life without them seems near impossible right now, because they have always been with us every step of the way, supporting us, caring, and encouraging whenever they could, even if they didn't always understand.  Our families have grown in size over these last few years, and it's time to embark on a new separate adventures.  And while we may not always share those future adventures under the same roof, I know we'll be thinking of them with great fondness.

To Fer and Kittie I say this - Thank you for the difference you've made in my life.  I simply wouldn't be the man I am today if it wasn't for you both.  You know you'll always have a special place in our hears, and we wish you well.  We'll always be there for you and are so very grateful for the time we've had together.

Moments

I have often found Hollywood to be, well, sometimes too Hollywood.  But I think that over the last ten years or so, that even with the well-placed melodies over the most emotional of moments, there's been a reality it seeks.  And while some, well okay many, of the ideals that it presents I'm not a fan of or believe in, I think there's something to be had in a few of it's tender moments.

As a writer, there are moments in a movie where the world seems to stop for just a moment.  In this briefest of moments, I can see, nay, feel the purity of love and life.  I sense the serenity that man was meant to have before the Fall.  And while  I realize the moment was rehearsed multiple times, sounds dubbed over, lines written and edited, and momentary emotions exhibited, there's still a beauty that's there.  When I experience, I wish to revel in it, as enjoying a beautiful flower on a spring day, or that first smell of burnt wood in the fall.  I like to close my eyes and drink it in.

I've experienced this sensations in several movies.  Two that have stuck with me, however, were Quartet and most recently the Second Exotic Marigold Hotel.  I'm not quite sure whether it is the British actors and their sensational voices, or the Golden Age of life, there's a beauty that seems to have only gotten better with age . . . .

The latter of the two movies spoke to me in a way that i replayed the ending several times.  Maggie Smith's voiceover of the letter she has written spoke volumes.  It wasn't the words in the letter, it is what the movie showed beneath those words.  You could feel someone who appreciated the journey she'd taken.  And while her character was gruff, to the point, and of few words, there was a greater message you could feel/hear under that rough exterior.  Her character had worked as a nanny for over 40 years.  Watching children that weren't hers but loving them just the same; scrubbing floors, managing the affairs of the house - being loved, and loving others but with no family of her home.  The journey to India, becoming a co-owner of a hotel.

And while there were several subplots in the movie, the one that spoke to me is that this life, with all it's hardships, moments of both joy and sorrow, filled with those we love and who love us, are merely a part of the journey, preparing us for those eternal days.  Her character, as many that I know, quietly invested in the lives of those around her (them).  She never sought fame, nor even thanks for what she did.  But she did it out of love, even with her prickly character.

Moments like this remind us to better appreciate those in our "circle", I think.  We are challenged (or at least I am) to love and appreciate them that much more.  And so it is in this moment I write to you, savoring every last minute of it, not wanting the night to end.

Change is in the air . . . . A Midsummer's Reality

About a year ago to the day, I walked into the doctors office for a physical.  At that time, I'd not seen a doctor in sometime.  I knew I was out of shape, didn't eat right - -in fact I was a bit out of control and I knew it.  My acupuncturist had told me for some time that I needed to make changes, but even in my 30's, thought I was still young and could get by like I was.

It took that doctor's visit to wake me up, along with a count of 300 for my blood sugar and high blood pressure to get serious about change.  Working in an office at 10 hours a day takes a toll on your body - even more so when you don't eat right and worse yet when exercise isn't a part of your life.  Since that time, I've gotten my sugar under control, and drastically changed my diet.  I've become practically organic, eating gluten free, dairy free (for the most part) and sugar free diet.  I've cut out most break, milk and many other staples including sugar soda.

And the results have been pretty good. However, my lifestyle has been pretty sedentary.  I'm a video gamer at heart, and easily found myself sitting at my computer for up to 17 hours a day.  Then I began reading about those who had major health issues and decided, among other reasons, that it was time for a change.  So for me the next step is exercise, and now that all the family is back together, I've got more than enough motivation to do it.   I still find time to play, just not as much as I did before.

 As a child, I was an avid reader, using my imagination as an escape from the world around me.  Whenever parents were fighting, or things were out of my control, I found that works of fiction seemed to make the world a better place.  And while I'm constantly fascinated with computer graphics and the worlds created for many of these video games, there's nothing than can take the place of one's imagination. So Tonight, I had a few minutes to myself to do some running around where I found myself at the local library.

There's a section of the library where old books are sold.  Hardbacks are $1, Paperbacks 50 cents.  There's a small box on the wall where only the most honest leave their donations.  I peruse the current collection and smiled when I found this (in reference to my previous blog post)

So I grabbed it.  Of course I remember the story, and even remember how and who did it.  It's okay - for me when a book is truly written well, I'll read it several times.  As an author, I feel you can't always appreciate what you're reading (assuming it's a truly great work) in just one sitting.  (My record is 11 times in case you're wondering.  The book?  The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes with the original Strand illustrations done by Paget can be found on ebay).

I digress :)  In the library book store there are several divisions.  Hardbacks, paperbacks, and then the classics.  Now normally classics are full, and the books are most hardbound and older, most from the 50's and 60's.  For me, those are the treasures.  Today though there was only one which really caught my eye . . . .

The name of the book is Light in August by William Faulkner, an author and book I've never even heard of.  I remember my English Lit, American Lit and even my Advanced Grammar Comp class in colleges, and I've never heard of it.  But I love books, used to have a large collection (over 200). Constant moving over a 3 year period, though, serves as a great motivation for learning what you need versus what you have.  As a result of my nomadic lifestyle in those days, all of those books were given away.

I've thought about building my library again.  I've always dreamed of the room, with the ceiling high bookcase, accompanied by the ladder on wheels.  Sitting by a roaring fire passing the hours away - reading.  I love the smell of older books, but even more I wonder about it's history, it's path, who owned it before, and this book has not disappointed.

I opened the cover of the book to find the publisher's icon, and a name scrawled into the binding page.

No idea who the owner was , other than she (presumably) liked this book due to the highlights.  Was it a textbook for a literature class?  Was it a personal favorite of theirs?  I have no clue.  How did the passages strike them?  My guess is she liked it because I found . . .

and when I turned to page 371 . . . .

I paused, realizing that this is a piece of someone's history, of someone's life.  I close my eyes, and imagine life in the 50's, the times, the customs, and wonder if that's when the book was marked and read.  When I reach heaven, I've always secretly hoped there's a place where I can watch time in motion.  As a former title abstractor, I've always been amazed at how land was sold and developed over the years.  To a greater extent, I think it would be fascinating to see how nations rose and fell - literally, over the expanse of time.

But that will have to wait.  For now, I have this book, where I can bask in the memories, holding the same pages as others before me.  I'm simply left to wonder who they were . . . .  Every book has memories, every page an impact made on the lives before us.  Reminds me of the song by Amy Grant, " If These Walls could Speak."  Just like an old house, with memories of one family after another, old books strike me in a similar way.

Off to read I go, hi-ho, hi-ho :)

And then there were five . . . .

Before having a family and becoming an adult, I used to be an avid reader.  In fact, I'd say that books, specifically mystery/suspense and fiction, captured my attention more than any other book.  Being a frequent visitor to the Pacific Northwest, I'd learned to appreciate rainy days and a comfortable french window.  Couple that with my love of tea, and my afternoons were tied up.

One of my favorite authors was Agatha Christie.  The suspense she held in her books was unlike anything I'd every read.  Up until that time, I'd pretty much only read Hardy Boys type books.  So Agatha's writing, specifically Poirot mysteries were simply fantastic.  I remember watching the Orient Express (the 1974 version) riveted to my television screen, hanging on each discovery.

The thing I've always appreciated about books is that they are limited only by my imagination.  Many times as a boy, I'd close my eyes, and see the places and the people I was reading on these pages.  In my personal opinion, I find that this is one of the main reasons movies never stack up to the books - because the world that we envisioned in our minds can almost never be reproduced on the cinematic screen.

Over time, my love of books has waned.  I suppose it's that I have struggled to find authors who can hold my attention, similar to the book Agatha wrote "And then there was one".  I still remember reading the letter at the end of the book, written by the "One."  I never saw that one coming . . . . What a brilliant concept.

To say her books influenced my scholarship would be a mild understatement.  I find myself drawn to British comedy, British shows (BBC version of Sherlock is my favorite my far) and I must confess I find myself remembering quotes from her book, like the one in my title.  I firmly believe that by reading so much as a youngster, I am slowly discovering my passion of writing.   Always fun to write about ideas or things that are important to me.  I've been writing for one book, and I wonder if I'll stop there   . . . . :)  Blogging is one of my outlets, practicing my writing so that maybe one day I can share more with the world.

So maybe now that you know that, you'll understand why today's post is so meaningful . . . .  Enjoy mis amigos.

Traitmarker Books

I find myself in the rarest of circumstances - at home alone.  Normally there are children at play, or televisions screaming, music blaring or the sounds of warrior vs paladin in the never ending pursuit for Azeroth.  There might be the burning of grease or the smells of freshly cooked whatever in the kitchen, saturating the air, the lighthearted banter of sisters catching up after time apart.

But not tonight.  The silence is literally deafening on this July 4th night, and I can feel the stress leaving my body as I write this.  Accompanied by good friends Teavana (orange blossom and youthberry - awesome combination either cold or hot) and my fan, I am allowed if but a few minutes to actually concentrate.  It feels weird :)  I almost don't know how to act or what to do.

Almost.  The air is muggy tonight, and at the risk of sounding unpatriotic, fireworks have lost their appeal.  I suppose the right thing to do is take the girls out to see them, but there is time for that yet.  For now, I turn to my old friend, my blog, for some much needed therapeutic release.

Tonight, I wanted to take a few minutes and get something off my chest that's been there for a while.  If any of you have read my posts, then you know of some of the struggles I have and continue to face.  One of the biggest consolations, though, in my fight with anxiety and some form of stress disorders, is the support that I've received.  You may also find it interesting that out of one of the major contributors of my stress/anxiety also came one of it's saviors, so to speak. His name is Robbie Grayson.

I don't remember when I first met Robbie on campus.  What I do remember though is I thought he was cool.  I knew he'd lived in Germany, and I was fascinated at folks who'd come abroad since at that time of my life, I'd never traveled.  Sometime over the next four years, he was a floor-leader.  A title reserved for those who were "in charge' of a floor.  Their responsibilities included ensuring their floor observed curfew, were in bed at night, had weekly floor meetings.  The biggest thing I remember about Robbie was not only was he in insanely good shape, but that he was sincere and down to earth.  Which was rare at a school where it seemed like everyone, including your author, was so desperately trying to fit in to the mold.  While we were not close, he seemed a cool person.

Years later, almost 20 to be exact, I ran into Robbie on Facebook, and discovered his POMO Zone philosophy - assuming that's the correct word.  I didn't understand it at the time, but he'd developed a curriculum for youth, targeting a specific generations.  And the more I read about it, the more absorbed I became.  It's as if he'd entered the mind of that generation, reached into their chests, and felt their hearts.  It seemed as if he knew just exactly what they'd thought and even more importantly, what they needed and wanted.

We exchanged pleasantries back and forth over the ensuing months.  He then introduce me to Traitmarker and the ideas behind it.  And to be honest, I blew it off.  I mean, I've had several personality tests and knew what I was - a Choleric who was Melancholy, a hidden type A with an IQ of 120.  To me, I couldn't see how another test could really benefit.  I mean after all, how many of them could there be right?  How many tests did one person need to "define" who he was in life?

So I hemmed and hawed, inwardly rolling my eyes at another "personality" test.  It sounded weird in some regards, yet the message of me being the only one of me in a million caused me to stop and think.  I mean we've met others who are similar to us - on the web today they were discussing celebrity doppelgangers.  And I'm sure that you the reader have been compared to complete strangers.  I don't know about you, but I hate it when they say - "hey you're just like so and so . . . " and found it annoying because I've never met that person.

Yet hear was a message I think we needed to all here - you are the only one of you.  Suddenly, the Traitmarker test philosophy made sense.  While there were going to be people I could relate to based on our similar traits - I was the only one with my traits, my background, and my personality.  It was that special ingredient that you ask about at restaurants, only for them to smile at the mystery and reveal nothing.  And so I took the test.  For those of you who've taken it, I'm a Dreamer and my supportive trait is Ender.

Now this is the part where you'd normally be told - "Traitmarker changed my life."  Well it didn't, at least not right away.  But what it did do for me is help me understand my struggle.  You see, my whole life I'd been thought of as a server.  I thought my place here on earth was to help those around me, either by serving meals or giving counsel.  Yet when I took this test, I realized I was something I'd never thought I'd be - Creative.

The power of that knowledge did change my perspective though, and allowed me to see why I'd enjoy the success in both my professional and personal life.  I began to realize that my success was coming from a Dreamer and not a Servant - and that in itself was life changing.  Why?  Well in my case, it not only answered some questions I'd had but also removed the stress.  You see, when you begin to understand yourself first, then you can understand your interaction with those around you.  You being to see what you are and who you are, and it's completely refreshing.

The interesting part though, is that Traitmarker doesn't stop there.  For some, it's a community to share ideas and to partner with others who are coming to similar realizations.  For others, like myself, it's a realization of gifts, such as writing, and allows me to hone my craft in preparation for my book. The Traitmarker community is extremely supportive, and I've only begun to scratch the surface.  So many writings who've had similar experiences, finding their voices and sharing them with the world.  I don't know there's any other place I'd rather be.

So whether you're a writer like me looking for a forum, or just wanting a different perspective on what makes you tick, head over here and get started.  I promise you, you won't regret it.

Hope to see you soon!

Props

There's alot of cool things I get to share with Stephanie.  One of the things we like to do from time to time is watch Daniel the Tiger, which happens to be based on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.  Such a classic.  I still remember him singing to me, while putting on his sweater/shoes, as if we was speaking to me right through the screen.   I remember when he passed, and feeling a bit sad that such a positive influence was gone from us. The video clip found here shows his last public words.  In it he encourages the listener to take a few moments and reflect on those who've made a change to the listener's life.  Tonight, that's what this blog is all about. I want to introduce you to an old friend.

In my younger twenties, well, I was a mess.  A product of an abusive and legalistic home, I hadn't the faintest on what to expect out of life.  For me it was just enough to make it one day at a time, putting one foot in front of another.   I also had no idea what I believed personally, I had always relied on what I was taught to be the truth.  I could point to you anywhere in the Bible where certain facts were, could quote passages, but to tell you what I felt personally and knew in my heart to be real and I was lost.

And that's a dangerous place to be, because what happens is you judge everyone around you,  Instead of showing love and compassion along with living the life, you see the world through judgmental eyes, constantly finding the fault in others, and not realizing the irony of it all - that the one truly lost is you.

One year out of college, and I was still struggling.  I'd contacted a local private school that an old college buddy was working and applied to get the job.  After a brief interview process, I'd received word that I'd gotten the job.  I packed all my things into a small Ford Escort and trekked from Cincinnati OH to Maryland, which was familiar territory to me.  I'd spent many a childhood year there. so it was in some ways a Homecoming.

As I mentioned in one of my previous posts (see post "Art"), I rented a basement in Queen Anne where I lived for over 10 years.  That time in Queen Anne was such a pivotal time for me.  First of all, I'd never known stability like that.  I mean, the longest I'd ever lived in one place was when I was in college.  Most of the times we moved were not by my choosing.  Usually we moved because my dad could never stay in one place.

But there was something else.  At Queen Anne, there were people who came into my life that challenged me in a loving way. And I'd never had that before.  Having spent so many years judging and "knowing it all" doesn't really endear you to many folks, and divorce had really rocked my family to the point that I had no feasible relationships.

As a teacher, it was the blind leading the blind.  I taught from rote memory, pulling lessons from what I had learned before instead of continually learning myself.  I also got roped into being JV Volleyball coach and had no clue about volleyball other than the net and the ball.  I wanted to help out wherever I could.

The ONE positive in all of this foolishness was meeting Mike.  He was coach of the varsity team, knew what he was doing, and over the next few years of my life, would challenge me in ways I never thought.  Looking back, though, I was ridiculous.  I mean the things I thought I believed, and what I lived - like I said, I was a mess.

And you know what - I'm sure he walked away more than once shaking his head at it all, wondering what the heck was wrong with me.  And even with all my defects, my quirks, and my ridiculousness, he still reached out to me and challenged me.  In the truest sense of the word, he showed me God's love, he lived it.

One of these days, I'm sure we'll catch up.  and the coolest thing for me will be that he gets to see the result of it all - my family now, the love we share and the happiness - in part, all thanks to him.

Boldness

Boldness (def). not hesitating or fearful in the face of actual or possible danger or rebuff; courageous and daring; 2. not hesitating to break the rules of propriety; forward; impudent

I don't consider myself a bold person.  If I were to judge myself, I'd say the real me was quieter, tends to disappear in big groups, and while intelligent, not prone to try and shove what I think and believe into the face of others.  Strong willed yes, belligerent, not so much.

However, looking at that second description of the definition of the word bold, and, well, I'd have to agree that I am bold.  I refuse to accept society's norms for many things whatever it may be.  I challenge you to think as well as confront in a loving way, always in an effort to educate and encourage.

Past that - I'm still learning.  Events over the last few days have surprised me, and I'm not sure how to engage them other than to simply trod along as best as I know how. As far as the specifics, well I'm hesitant to share them all.  I want this to develop as it should, without me guiding this too much, if you know what I mean.  Rather, I want to be guided and instructed, and see how it develops.  I know where I come from, know where I've been and to be honest, not too worried about where I'm going.  One of the great things about being older is that most of us know who we are; there comes a time in our lives when we realie that while we may grow, changing our core character traits isn't bound to happen to often. So if I've been tasked with this, then I shall do my best.

It's an area of my life that I've been dancing around for years.  Suspecting that something might come but not exactly sure in what form.  Even my wife has been surprised how the topic will raise it's head, only to disappear, as a tree that wants to bloom but not quite ready yet.  I've tried to be as ready as I can, and feel that in whatever avenue it may present itself to be willing, regardless of how big or small it may be.  

One day I may tell you the whole story of how this came to be.   Secretly I've been waiting for this, hoping that I would be ready when the time came.  Two days ago, I received a message so clear, that it shook me to my very core.  Two days have past, and the feeling has not disappeared, so deep the impression.  You may have received those messages - a moment when it seems the stars align, and signals you've received over time come together in alignment.  

Most importantly, though, is while I continue to grow, I will also continue to be sincere and real.  The nice part is that my friends who know me have to also love this side of me, and I in return have come to accept it.  So in the meantime, I wish you, the reader, all the blessing del cielo and in the midst of the storm, may you find peace and calm.

Precious Moments

As a father, you learn to capture those precious moments that present themselves at a moment's notice.  To me, they are so beautiful it's easy for me not to miss them.  So when Stephanie came to me and said "Daddy, would you like to play futbol (soccer) with me," of course I jumped at the chance.  Not sure why she doesn't ask more, so when she does, I like to drop everything I'm doing to go, because I rather enjoy it :)

One thing about getting older is that I both see and think things I've not experienced before.  I see family resemblances more pronounced in both the faces of parents and children alike.  When I look at pictures from centuries ago, I not only realize they have lived the full measure of their lives, but find myself wondering what their daily routine was.  What was it like to live life before computers, technology, HDTV's and FIOS.  And similarly, I've thought more about the end of life experience then ever before.  I guess it's because I feel more fully engaged with life, understanding the age cycle and seeing it more and more in the lives of others around me.

Living in this house has stirred similar feelings.  Having a wood stove and maintaining it makes us less dependent on current comforts and more on the sweat of our brows.  It is a balance that is maintained daily and a battle constantly fought, and our sense of accomplishment is rewarded in the smaller things..   This is how our ancestors who came before us lived.  By the sweat of their brow, by the fruits of their land, and the goodness of the neighbors around them.

So here I was surrounded by these elements and these feelings, making memories.  It was a beautiful night - 50 degree weather, the smell of burning wood and the rustling of leaves were all around us. As the night quickly fell, there we were kicking the ball, smiling, laughing, a close to a great weekend.