Day 364: The Countdown To The End, Part IV: Marriage

Three posts remaining. I can remember when I had written post No. 3 for the year and wondered how I was every going to manage to write something every day. Funny how attitudes can change. In these last few posts I've tried to concentrate on writing about things that have been particularly positive to me this year. Up to today, that's include my friends, foes, and my kids. Today, I'll write about marriage and tomorrow about myself. 

I was lucky. I grew up in a home in which if I was sure of anything, I was sure my parents were always going to be together. They married when they were 17 and 18, and they're still married today. That's an excellent example and motivation. 

There are some marriages you just know by being around them that they are solid and concrete. You know they might shift and budge a little, but they're never going to completely crack. That type of edifice seems to be fewer and farther between these days. It's as if people almost expect that they're going to divorce at some point in there lives. I can remember when divorce was the exception. The big exception. It isn't anymore. It's commonplace. That's good and bad I suppose. It's good, for example, that women don't have to feel beholden to stay in a crappy marriage in which they're regularly beat and/or berated. In which they're belittled and ignored. It's a shame, though, that people get married so young and give up at the first sign of trouble. To get to the gold, you have to trudge through some sludge first. 

Marriage isn't easy, but it's worth the effort. I hope that my kids will walk away with that idea. I hope they find that someone who helps them build something solid and concrete. I hope they find that someone they can lean on and confide in. I hope they all believe in marriage and what it can represent as much as I do. 

Day 363: The Countdown To The End, Part III: Kids

Four posts left until the end. I'm starting to feel a little sad about that realization. But also proud. 

Two days ago I set out to use these final posts to write about the things that have been particularly positive in my life this year. I started with my friends. Yesterday, I wrote about my foes. Today, it's my kids and then my wife and finishing up with myself before I conclude it all for good. On to my kids. 

I sometimes think God or Mother Nature or whoever gifts us with kids does so to let them serve as some kind of barometer for how much sh*t we can endure. Kids are like a never-ending triathlon. A perpetual SAT. Kids are the puzzle that's complete but for that one missing piece that can never be located. 

Some of us can definitely endure more as parents than others. Some of us don't even try. We just run for the hills at the first sight of trouble and are never heard from again. (I hate these people.) Some of us who should run for the hills don't and end up screwing our kids up more than if we had run. Some of us stick around a while before going completely bonkers. Some of us weather the storm like it's nothing at all. Most of us, though, fall somewhere in the middle. We stick it out and remain functional, but we lose a bit of sanity in the process. 

I'm definitely someone who belongs somewhere in the middle. I'm never going to run for the hills, although I have to admit they look pretty inviting and comforting sometimes. I'm also never going to be someone who whistles merrily through each and every day that I spend with my kids, as if I'm top of the world and have all this craziness figured out. I don't and I never will. 

No, I'm solidly somewhere in the middle, and I'm good with that. I have definite strengths and definite weaknesses, and having been in this parenting game for a while now, I think I'm able to recognize both pretty easily. I'd like to say that I've been able to correct all my shortcomings, but I'm not even close. I'm still working on them, and that's what's important. But rather than being a failure as a parent, the weakness I believe just make me normal. 

I think that I weather the storm that is my kids fairly well most of the time, and they do the same of me. It hasn't always been easy. These are complicated and often weird lives we're talking about. These are even weirder times we're living in. We soar together to the highest of highs and then sink to the lowest of lows. Seemingly, we spend less time seeing the sights in the middle. While I crave the sanity that dwelling more often in the "middle" would most likely bring, I also realize there's a hell of lot to gain from seeing the very best and the very worst that a person has to offer, even if it's your kid. 

I think when you travel to the extremes, you form a bond that becomes incredibly strong and resolute. I'm not sure we're even aware of it as that attachment is growing, but I know that bond has been created with my kids and continues to. How? I hear it in the conversations that I have with my kids and the topics we're able to discuss. I see it in the loyalty that surfaces between them. I sense it in the walls that have gone up and then been toppled over. 

My kids are complicated, intelligent, independent, prideful, and stubborn creatures, and while that doesn't make it easy or even enjoyable at times being a father, it does leave me proud feeling confident and secure knowing they're not fools. They're not chumps. They're not suckers. For every instance that they test me and my nerves, they fortify my belief in them by showing me levels of compassion and intuitiveness that surpasses what I ever expected, and I expect a lot from them. My kids are the real deal, right down to the bone. 

Honestly, the people who challenge me most in this world are my children, and I use "challenge" in the most positive way. They challenge my patience. They challenge me intellectually. They challenge me to look within myself and find my own flaws. They force me to confront myself, and I'm not sure that's something that would occur with the same amount of force and importance without them in my life.  

Just as important, the people who keep me grounded and humble and youthful and enthusiastic are my children. The people who help me keep my eyes on the prize are my children. The people who motivate me to live a (mostly) moral and ethical life are my children. I strive to make them proud. Even when I'm not sure they notice, they serve as a reminder as to what this is all about. 

Yeah, sometimes the hills look extremely enticing, what with all the peace and quiet there seems to be up there. What with the lack of responsibilities that all those people meandering about don't seem to have. What with all the disposable income and the freedom to come and go at will. Yeah, it's damn tempting to run for the hills some days. I think any parent who says different isn't being honest. Parenting is by far the damn hardest job I've ever had. It's filled with the most pain and the most worry and stress and tension and fricking toil, day in and day out. 

Those hills also look lonely. They look desolate. They look a bit barren and less than fulfilling. In short, they look incomplete, and I don't want any part of that. 

Day 362: The Countdown To The End, Part II: Foes

Just five posts left. Yesterday, I wrote about the positive influence that my friends have had on my life throughout the past year, as well as throughout all the years of my life. Today, I flip the coin and explore the positive aspects that my foes have brought forth. In coming days, I delve into the topics of my kids, my wife, and myself. 

Upon initial consideration, the idea that a foe could offer something positive might seem kind of odd. Upon further inspection, it makes all the sense in the world. Without a villain, for example, how would we distinguish what constitutes a hero? (Not that I'm equating myself to a hero by any stretch of the imagination.) Without a foil, where is the challenge to battle, fight the good fight, and overcome? 

In many ways, I consider a good foe every bit as important as a friend. In fact, I don't think the two have to be mutually exclusive. I've had plenty of friends who have also served as foes. In many regards, the most formidable foe I have is myself, but more on that later. 

This year, I didn't have to look too high or low to find worthy foes. They were seemingly everywhere. I noticed they started to surface in the strongest numbers starting around early October. Coincidentally, there was a heated presidential election not far off on the horizon. But the foes showed their faces early than that. They were there when Wall Street was being occupied. They were there before and after when guns became the hot topic of the day. They were there when same-sex marriage was grabbing headlines. No matter what side of any issue I leaned toward, there was a foe waiting to face. 

And all that brings me back to the foe I fear the most: myself. My fear, hesitation, reluctance, tentativeness, insecurity, and self-defeating prophecies are the dirty, hairy, gnarly monsters that have too often kept me looking in from the outside. Historically, it's taken me too long to convince myself that I'm able and worthy and can make a difference for me to just get in the game. There's nothing positive in that. If this year has taught me anything, it's that failing to engage is worse than dying. It's taught me that everyone can make a difference. 

So, with all due respect to you foes, detractors, friendly combatants, and haters, f*ck you. Let's get it on. 

Seriously, I've done a lot of of honest introspection and contemplation this year, and I've learned that I'm not so concerned with fighting anymore. I've learned that my commitment to certain causes has never been as strong and unwavering. My devotion to my beliefs has never been as deep. It's never risen to as high of levels as they currently reside at. 

I'm not sure why that it is, but I suspect that as I started taking a longer, more serious look around at the conditions surrounding me, I started to notice that the opposition was arming itself more heavily and with more powerful ammunition. I started to notice those holding opposing beliefs to my own were committed themselves, and while I didn't always approve of their tactics, I did admire the lengths they were ready to go to. In other words, it was time to up my game.

So be it. Moving forward, I'm ready to engage. I'm ready to go to battle with those who hate "fags." Those who want to send the immigrants "back to where they came from." Those who dare me to pry the gun out of their cold, dead hands." Those who beat women. Molest children. Steal from the old and poor. I'm committed to feed the hungry, shelter the poor, reverse the damage done to the climate, and hug every damn tree I can wrap my hippie arms around. I'm committed to fight anyone who questions my loyalty to my country. Who throws inaccuracies my way. Who speaks without truth. 

I'm never been as excited to make change as I am now. With all sincerity, thank you, foes. You fuel the fire. 

Day 361: The Countdown To The End, Part I

As of today, I’m down to my last six posts of this great endeavor to explore all things positive every day for entire year. In the few days that remain, I want to use five of the last six to write about those topics that have been most important and most positive not only this year but throughout all my years: Friends, foes, my kids, my wife, and myself. (That last one isn’t nearly as egotistical as it might seem.)

I’ll start with friends, without whom I’d be nothing and I’d be nowhere. I’ve written about many of them previously, but honestly, there’s too little time and too little space to ever give them the full and due representations they deserve. I’ve been blessed with absolutely unbelievable people in my life, and I’m completely and utterly aware of the great fortune of such.  

I have friends who are family and family who are friends.

I have friends I’ve never met in the flesh and friends I’ve grown up with.

I have friends who live around the world and friends who live right next door.

I have friends who are republicans, democrats, and everything in between.

I have friends who believe in God and who don’t.

I have friends so brilliant that I can’t begin to fathom how their brains work.

I have friends so artistic and creative I’m simultaneously jealous and inspired.

I have friends who have guided me in prayer and who have drank me under the table.

I have friends who put me in precarious situations and friends who have literally pulled me out of the mud.

My friends have fixed my broken-down cars, patched holes in my ceiling, cared for my kids and my pets, repaired the cavities in my teeth, and gave my guitars new life.

I have friends who have lent me their ear, their books, their music, their cars, their movies, their labor, and their advice.

My friends have mowed my lawn, scooped my driveway, dry-walled my basement, and wired my house for electricity.

I have friends who have lent me a dollar when I needed it, bought me a meal when I was hungry, gave me a ride when I was stranded, and gave me a place to sleep when I needed the shelter.  

I’ve played basketball, football, baseball, softball, handball, racquetball, volleyball, and pinball with my friends, not to mention tennis, kick soccer, badminton, and golf.

I have friends who are teachers, professors, doctors, lawyers, writers, editors, mechanics, musicians, filmmakers, artists, marketing gurus, salesmen, nurses, photographers, house painters, plumbers, dentists, software programmers, chefs, daycare owners, physical therapists, firemen, police officers, students, furniture makers, social workers, state workers, city workers, country workers, federal workers, engineers, architects, bartenders, therapists, military veterans, active servicemen, homemakers, preachers, stay-at-home dads, volunteers, business owners, and so much more.

I have friends who are gone but not forgotten.

I have friends who live in big cities and the smallest of small towns.

I have friends who ride motorcycles and who ride skateboards.

I’ve laughed, cried, argued, debated, and fought with my friends. I punched and been punched by my friends.

I’ve cursed and praised my friends.

I’ve admired and worried about my friends.

I very much miss some of my friends this very second.

Throughout this year, I’ve been so blessed to have been in better and more consistent contact with so many more of my friends than was the case in previous years. I could not be more thankful for that. I can’t begin to describe the positive influence so many of them instill in my life on a daily basis. I can’t begin to put a value on those friendships. I’ve learned so much in regards to faith and passion and purity from my friends. I’ve learned so much about parenting and fatherhood. I’ve learned so much about giving back to others. About being true to thyself.

Like anyone I suppose, I have some friends who I especially covet and who I especially draw inspiration from. Some of them might be surprised to learn that. Some of them have long had that kind of influence on me. Some of them I don’t have the opportunity to keep in contact with nearly as much as I’d like, but their influence remains as strong and true as could be.

I’m not always an easy person to be friends with. I like to kid myself into believing that being an “artist” makes me “dark” and “moody” and “somewhat of a loner,” but the truth probably lies closer to the fact that I haven’t always felt all that optimistic about the world I live. Thank God I’ve had smarts enough to surround myself with people who counterbalance those tendencies.

I’m truly a blessed man to have such good people available. When I begin to wonder about the hope this world has to offer, these people are living, breathing reminders of what’s good and what’s possible.

Day 360: Christmas Day

Today, I woke up to the sounds of a four-year-old girl's excited, ecstatic voice. When I crawled out of my bed, opened the door, and came out of my room and walked down the hallway, I could see her sitting at the kitchen table all by herself. Lord knows how long she had been awake and sitting there. But there she was nonetheless, as content as could be, just drawing a picture for Santa Claus and letting the rest of the people in her house sleep away with all those presents just a few feet away. How tempted and enticed she had to have been. How full of fantastic anxiousness she must have been sitting on and trying to contain. But there she sat at that table, talking to herself, giddy, bubbling, and enraptured as she drew that picture. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything so beautiful. 

To me, the vision of that child is what Christmas has become. 

To me, seeing my four children, spanning four to 20 years in age, sitting in the same room, that's what Christmas has become. 

To me, gathering around a table and eating good food and feeling utterly fulfilled is what Christmas has become. 

To me, feeling as if time outside the walls of my house was standing still and there was nothing bad or evil or tainted that could enter them is what Christmas has become. 

To me, Christmas has become an event that seemingly has to have very little to do with me for me to enjoy. Christmas has become a long, steady day of observation. Watching my kids. Watching my wife bask in their company. Watching them interact. Watching this intimate life that I've become part of play out so wonderfully. No complaints. No hidden agendas. No selfishness. Nothing but purity. That's what Christmas has become. 

Never before on Christmas have I opened so few presents, and never before on Christmas can I remember feeling as much joy. 

It's an amazing feeling being able to provide such happiness. To be able to work hard and have the means to let that work make happiness for others possible. And not just the happiness that is buying and giving gifts, but the happiness of being able to create a home in which they can gather. A diverse but intertwined home. Not a house. A home. 

I'm going to carry the vision of my daughter sitting at that kitchen table with me for many years to come. I'm going to let the vision of her innocence and excitement roll through my memory over and over. I'm going to hold on to those fleeting seconds when I just stood there and watched her, and I'm going to remember her childish beauty. What a gift, and what a day. I truly am a lucky man. 

Day 359: The Day Before Christmas

I've been a sucker for those big traditional gatherings. The kind you see on television specials where family comes traveling from all parts to congregate in one, big, warm, cozy house and proceed to have a the merriest damn time of their lives.

My own Christmas Eves have been pretty good for the most part. What they've lacked in tradition, they've made up for in other ways. When I think of Christmas Eve, I think I'll always think first of my mom and dad and our early houses and all those years we ate a big supper before breaking into the gifts. Usually it was my dad who couldn't hold out, and I loved that about him. My parents wrapped those presents way early, so I had weeks to suffer through, temptation biting me right on my big, fat face the entire time. Damn, I miss those years and being that young and innocent and eager and full of curiosity. If I knew then what I do now, I would have made them last as long as I could have.

Christmas Eve also brings me back to my own kids. Nearly 15 years ago, I took my two older kids sledding for several hours on what was a bitterly cold day. They didn't notice the cold a bit. We had a tall hill that was a fast as a hungry cat. We had good sleds, and we had all the time in the world. We explored every inch of that hill that day. Sometimes, I wonder if they even remember that day. If they remember the absolute blast they had piling on top of me and us crashing to the bottom of that hill. If they do remember, I doubt they remember much. They were young and it was many years ago.

Today, I took my youngest daughter sledding. It was just as cold as all those years ago, but she didn't mind a bit. I had to drag her inside, but before I did, we made run after run after run, and if she didn't laugh as hard as I ever seen her. I wish I would have captured it in images or video, but I was too busy having fun to give the event much forethought. I only wish she could hold on to this memory as long as I will.

Tonight, we'll write Santa a letter and leave some cookies for the old man. That I will take photos of..
 

Day 358: Save Your Advice

There are certain people in certain times in certain situations that find their way under my skin and touch the rawest nerve I possess. I wish more than anything I could avoid those people. I wish there was a mechanism I could switch on or off and be rid of those people. I wish I had a time machine in the garage that I could climb in and transport my way to a better time and place. A place free of people who irritate me. Who rub me raw. But I can't. None of us can. We can only hope that we surround ourselves with enough people to balance that out. When it doesn't work, you live through the circumstances as best as possible and move on.

I'd like to believe I could tackle these unavoidable confrontations with such people with calmness and dignity and level-headiness, but it doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes, I let my emotions take over. I have little problem with facing most confrontations. I don't seek them out, but I'm not afraid of them, either. I'm not afraid of tackling issues head on. Some people are. Others avoid confrontation for all it's worth. Some people like confrontation as long as they only have to deal with one aspect of it--the part where they're dealing out all the cards and forcing their views and actions for everyone to follow. I've found, though, that these people don't like to play the shitty cards they've been dealt. They're more apt to fold them than to play the game out.

Take people who like to dole out moral, righteous advice like they're dishing out candy, for example. They're fine with confrontation until it's their turn to be on the receiving end. People who give me advice about raising kids but who don't have kids themselves, for instance, crack me up. And by crack me up, I mean piss me off. Also high on my list of people I could do without are those who preach on and on in a superior, smug tone but don't actually apply any self-realism to the words. Just a lot of hot air. They crack me up, too. And by crack me up, I mean humor me. And people who give me advice about raising kids who not only don't have kids but also don't follow the same advice they're willing to hand out, well, I really don't have much use for them at all. But worse yet are the people who hand out the advice, unsolicited mind you, but don't want to hear advice for them in return, which would be, "Thanks, but keep it to yourself." It's amazing how thin-skinned people who incessantly poke and prod and nitpick and spew their moral indignation really are. People who criticize, it seems, are absolutely incapable of taking criticism. Incapable.

The thing is I should be at a point by now where I can just let matters like that pass through one ear and go out the other without it even making a blimp. For some reason, there are those days when I can't. It's the hypocrisy that sucks me in. I have a hard time swallowing hypocrisy. And seemingly, there's so much to swallow. Some days I choke on it and barely make it back up to the surface. I have a hard time with people who don't live by a code. Who instead live by moving from one self-serving situation to another until they find the one that suits them just swell. Take a little from here. Take a little from there. Give nothing there. Give nothing here. The hypocrisy cripples me. And I should be past it. But it's hard. It's hard when people take and take but contribute little to nothing but want a equal voice. It's hard when people live off the hard work of others but want to pretend we have everything in common. That we stand on equal ground. That our aim is the same. It's not. Never was.

I should be past giving too much attention to too many people who don't deserve it. It's a flaw I need to work on. Not for them. For me. I'm pretty much to the point where I'm concerned with looking forward and not back. Looking ahead and obtaining what I want to obtain. I'm not really interested in dead weight. It's gotten to be too much of a burden to carry, and my back is beginning to hurt.

Carry your own weight.

Make your own way.

Just save your advice.