Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Summer is supposed to be a nice time when you can get together with family and friends and enjoy a barbecue or a ball game with some ice cream and an iced tea (or a beer). It's about enjoying the ability to be outside and doing things when everybody has a little break from stuff.

OK so not many people get a break during the summer from work, but it is a time when the kiddos are off school so they get to complain that there is nothing to do all summer long until the last week. Then they find about 100 things to do and complain on the night before school starts again that the summer went by too dang fast.

I've noticed an unfortunate part of my end of summer days. It's the anniversary of many friends and family that have passed on. To say that it leaves me with a feeling of melancholy is sometimes an understatement. I realized that as I'm getting older the list of people I've said goodbye to is growing (and much too quickly).

On the all powerful facebook I saw a friend from a post remembering a friend of ours that passed some 21 years ago. It was followed by a post from one of his friends talking of a friend that passed within days of that person but 2 years later. This was followed by another and another. I didn't realize it until I was reading that post that I knew about 10 people that have passed within a few days of each other and a dozen years apart.

That of course got me to thinking of other friends I've lost over the years. Not to mention family. I'm from an Italian family and one thing we know how to do is well have big families. Many memories are of older relatives from my childhood. They would all sit around at my cousins house for a family get together eating pasta and arguing. Looking back it was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

It also got me to thinking about all the things left unsaid between me and my friends and family that have passed. I am fortunate that my list is not all that long, but nonetheless there are regrets for comments not made (and even for a few made in haste).

The only point I have to this rambling post is remember that our time is short and it's precious. Use it wisely and never take any of it for granted. I received a sharp reminder of that from a simple post this morning and I will make sure I'm talking to mom and dad today. Funny how it doesn't take much to get us moving in the right direction.

I've decided I like the fact that we aren't having a devastating summer here in California. It's been fairly mild compared to most of the country. We haven't had that many days over a hundred and now entering the "hottest" part of our summer I was ready for the heat wave to begin.

Our heat wave consisted of 6 days over 100 and only 2 of them hit 107. For the Central Valley that is a laugh. We are used to many days strung together over 100 and many of them reach the 110 mark. This year wasn't that way and I decided that even though it wasn't devastating here in the valley, the coast would still be nicer so we headed to Santa Cruz for the weekend to visit with the rest of my family as they were enjoying their vacation (Work has been so hectic we didn't get a proper vacation).

So thankfully the day we left town it was about 104 and I was looking forward to the comparative cool that was sure to come when we got over the Hill. I wasn't disappointed. Not more than an hour and a half from home the temperature dropped to a beautiful 68 degrees with a nice little breeze blowing. It was perfect with the sun shining and all. Perfect beach weather and we hadn't even reached the beach yet.

another hour of driving and we showed up at mom and dad's vacation house. This was the view I got to enjoy for 3 days (was supposed to be only 2).


We didn't need to go anywhere or do anything as far as I was concerned. The kids felt otherwise so we got to take a few trips to the boardwalk and the pier. All in all it was a great time and I can see how just a short break can really recharge the batteries.




The boys had an awesome time so now I just have to figure out a way to get a job that takes me this way on a regular basis. I could really get to like this coastal life.

Softball update..We totally sucked last week and got slaughtered, but hey we have out whole team back this week so it's game on now!!

I made mention of the fact that my father was in need of some serious medical help a while back. He was on the list for a lung transplant. A double lung transplant actually. Three months had gone by with not much information and hope was fading fairly fast for him. Not that he was getting worse physically but his state of mind was not good. He was more and more worried that he wasn't going to get that call.

Well this past weekend he got that call. They called Friday night and told him to get up to the hospital as soon as possible. For my parents that is about a 3 hour drive. I was called and they left. I showed up the next morning and spoke with pop briefly. He seemed more relaxed than any of us and I figured that since he only had to worry about himself and nobody else he was finally able to be at a little peace. The doctors told him that they would operate that afternoon, then they told him late that night. He told me that it was definitely unsettling to realize that he was essentially waiting for someone else to die so that he would have a chance to live. It put a different perspective on this whole procedure to be sure. Not that we didn't understand that going in, it's just that when it comes down to it, you have to come to grips with it.

Late Saturday night the procedure was started and about 6 in the morning the surgeon came out (one of the surgeons) to tell us that the procedure was successful and he already had more strength in his new lungs than he did in the old ones. A collective sigh of relief went up from all of us at that simple fact. Then we were given all the other info, but truth be told I didn't listen to it all. I was just happy with the fact that my father had made it through the first stage of his fight. The rest would come in due time and we would be there for him.

The next couple of days were stressful for us as well as him. He is doing well so far, but we understand this is just the earliest of stages for him and the real work is yet to come. He has a a handful of pills a day to look forward to for the rest of his life and compared to the alternative that is not a bad thing.

I spoke with pop for a little bit when he was still in ICU and he told me that he didn't know how to feel about this "gift" he had received. He understood that the person who donated the lungs was a fairly young person and that gave him pause and he told me he didn't know how much he wanted to know. It was a little bit of guilt that he was feeling and although I didn't totally understand (how could I) I still got the sense of where he was coming from. I tried to explain to him that yes he did recieve this at somebody else's expense but he didn't cause what happened to them. Our whole family are set up as donors and someday if I meet an untimely end somebody else may be able to benefit from what I can leave behind as well.

I'm just amazed that we have technology that allows my family to keep my father around for a while longer. However long that may be is not important. It feels like we have been given a second chance and I for one am more than grateful.

To the family that lost their loved one all I can say is know that from your tragedy something good came. I'm so very sorry for your loss, but I'm so very thankful for what I received. The feeling is truly overwhelming.

So we begin our plans for the next three months and hope that pop will respond to all the treatments as well as he has to everything else so far. The man is pretty stubborn and resilient for 64 years old.

If you have an inside track with the man upstairs throw a good word in for pop, and throw another in for the generous soul who had the forsight to realize that in their tragedy they could offer up hope to another family who had none.

Ok, so maybe not popular demand, but nonetheless some form of demand. My break from the blogging world has been self imposed but not something I've particularly enjoyed.

I've been enjoying some time playing Mr. Mom as my son is still involved in his wrestling. I have to say that he gets beat a lot, but I have yet to see him get down on himself for losing. Everybody talks about being a good sport and this kid IS.

He is farily new to the game so that makes it a bit easier for him to handle defeat, but it's more than that and it's more than I can take any credit for. He understands that it's competition. Sometimes you win sometimes you lose, but in the end you are testing yourself against all comers.

A couple of weeks ago we were at a wrestling competition and he drew the best kid in the division for his first match. I didn't know how he would handle it. He has lost to this kid before, and in all fairness everybody else has lost to this kid as well. I asked him if he remembered the boy he was getting set to wrestle. His response...."Duh!" I took that as a yes and asked him what his strategy was. Pretty simple stuff coming from a nine year old really. "I'm gonna try to pin him. If I can't do that I'm gonna try and score a ton of points early, and if that doesn't work, I'm gonna try not to get pinned." I thought that was pretty sound strategy. He went out for his match and was pinned in 2 minutes of the first period.

As my son came jogging back up to the bleachers where I was sitting, I got prepared to tell him it was ok, and he would get him next time. All the stuff a parent is supposed to tell their child after a defeat right? His first words to me when he got back were, "I lasted about 30 seconds longer this time so I must be getting better." Enough said. I didn't offer my pitiful cheer up words as I realized he didn't need them. He saw improvement and he was happy with that. It wasn't a huge amount of improvement, but it was some and he figured that it was enough to warrant sticking around with the wrestling thing for a little while longer.

My kids are constantly teaching me things about character. This was just one little example, but there are tons of them and I get a little tidbit on almost a daily basis. By the way, my son's coach texted me on Monday to tell me that the same kid that pinned my boy just got back from Oklahoma where he won nationals in his weight class. So I guess lasting at all was a good thing.

The biggest thing I've been able to bring away from my son being involved in this sport is, he knows what it takes to succeed. He realizes already that to win the war you have to win some battles, but not all of them. He has shown me that perseverance is a key to success. I didn't realize he had it in such quantity but for a little guy he has more than his share. So he keeps plugging away at it, and I keep cheering him on. Wrestling is like a neighborhood community. He has made friends from other towns and schools along the way and now when we show up somewhere they are all off together talking and joking until it's their time to wrestle.

So I'm in sort of unfamiliar territory. I was much more involved in team sports growing up and didn't enjoy wrestling at all. Thankfully I have one son playing tennis and that is at least something I can speak with him about. He even asks advice sometimes on how to play certain shots, and how to deal with different attitudes. It's a pretty awesome feeling to be able to offer some wisdom about something to my kids.

So stay tuned as the next wrestling match is the first weekend of February. I can hardly wait to see how the little one does. I have to admit I'm more excited about what comment he will offer after the fact.

My son is on the tennis team for middle school (Jr. High for those of us over 30). He was really excited about playing tennis because I played tennis in high school. He wasn't so excited about playing baseball after he got plastered by a pitch when he was 7 so we moved on to other sports and tennis is something I think he has some great potential in. He needs to be a little more driven but hey, he's 12 and girls and video games are still a priority in his mind.

I go out to the court with him and we do some exercises that I remember doing as a youngster to help develop diffrent aspects of his game. I have to admit his mental game is pretty strong, so I'm thinking the rest should be much easier. The problem is at this point he is pretty sucky. It's not his fault. I can only work with him a limited amount of time and I've come to find out that his "coach" is merely that in name. My son doesn't even know his coach's name because the guy never gave it to the kids. He is supposed to be a tennis player, but yesterday I went to my sons match to watch. Half of the kids didn't know how to score a match. They didn't know which side to serve from, they didn't understand when to switch sides, and they didn't understand how to play doubles. This is half of the kids. The other half understood but totally sucked at this game.

I was never a great player, but I was better than average. I didn't have the drive to be great. It was fun for me, but I didn't take the sport seriously enough to make it my focus all the time. It's not something I regret. I still enjoy the game and I'm sure that's because I never made it a job. I don't want my son to make it a job either, but I want him to see progress and this "coach" does the team a disservice. He seems to think that coaching is merely having the kids hit forehands all day at practice and standing outside the court clapping when they play (lose every single match).

Out of 9 matches yesterday, my son's team won 1 game. For those of you that don't play tennis a set consists of 6 games. At this level they only play a single set each. Sooooo we could break that down as 54-1.....I know winning isn't everything but come on seriously....how about being competitive....So we shall see how tomorrow's match goes...I'm hoping for 2 games won this time...

Don't know if I mentioned but my dad's biopsy came back clear...WOOHOO!! So we move on to see what the docs at Stanford have to say about it....Fingers and toes are still crossed, but it's looking better and better for the home team on that front.

I have been safe from the HIYAA!! Since my little one developed an infection on his toe. He informed me that his kicking would have to wait until said toe is "uninfected daddy". Then he has explained to me how he will make up for all lost kicks. So at least at tennis time I will be able to breathe without any bruising on the ribs to make it difficult or uncomfortable. Lord help me make through this week :)

Have I ever mentioned that I'm a glutton for punishment? I'm sure at some point I brought it up. I have further proven to myself that I enjoy being given the beat down at least from time to time.

Case in point. My youngest son wanted to join karate. He begged, pleaded, promised and pouted until we relented (which was fairly quickly). So he is learning to be courteous first. I thought what a great idea. To teach the children manners and to respect others is a big deal for me. So I was rather proud of my little one when the instructor offered up praise for how courteous my little one is already. "We will not have to teach your child manners. He learned them and applies them. Nice job dad!"

Ok I admit it, I might have been beaming with pride just a little bit. So we get home and he holds the door open for me (which is not something he normally does). I have not even really sat down when he asks if we can practice just a little bit of what he learned. I figure sure no problem. They were working on please and thank you for most of the hour, so how hard can it be. He then explained to me that they learned a kick and a punch. I'm thinking this is looking up. Only one punch and one kick. He should only be able to do them about 10 or 15 times each before he is tired and then I can watch Warehouse 13 and relax for a few minutes.

So the kicks come and so do the punches. After each and every one is a gut wrenching HIYAAA!!! My ears hurt far more than my arms did after this exercise. I thought for sure I had survived day one of karate until my boy told me that he was thinking about it and figured out a way to use his wrestling with his karate. A demonstration was in order of course. First comes the single leg take down (which was done exceptionally well I might add). I fall to the ground like a good practice dummy, but before I can so much as cover up I'm punched in the middle of my chest. The pain was minimal and I was thinking that for a little guy it still hurt quite a bit. That was about the time his kick caught me right about square on the solar plexus. I exhaled for about 7 hours I think. I could not catch my breath and he didn't realize that he had kicked his old man's ass thoroughly. I managed a weak smile and told him (whispered is more accurate) what a great job he did.

The little one runs off to take a shower and get ready for bed. This is about the time I sit down and try to tell my lungs to accept some oxygen. I didn't get much opportunity because here comes middle son (Cameron). He asks if we can practice tennis after school tomorrow (which is now today). Now my boy knows that I played tennis in high school. I have my nice varsity letter to prove it and he is hungry to know more than his coach is teaching him. I of course promised that we would indeed go play. I keep forgetting that I'm not a teenager anymore and I haven't held my weight to 170 lbs since high school.

We went out to the court today with a bucket of balls a few rackets and about that many bottles of water. we warmed up and started to rally. I was thinking how much I suck now that I don't play regular but it wasn't long before the ball was at least thinking of doing what I was asking it to do. I put him through some fairly grueling exercises to get him balanced (and because I'm sadistic a little bit I think). He slowed down a little but managed to keep going. We played a few points and one more long rally before we called it a night. I couldn't help thinking as we walked to the truck that I was pretty satisfied with myself for not falling over dead from exhaustion. We got home and I relaxed for a few minutes before getting up to take that nice relaxing shower. THAT'S when my body explained to me that I'm not a teenager any longer. It also explained to me that even if I was a teenager I better lose some weight if I'm going to keep this kind of ignorant behavior up.

So a shower, some advil, an ice pack and 2 hours later I'm here sharing all of this wonderful stuff with all of you. I get to play karate man again tomorrow with Ethan and then tennis boy one more time tomorrow evening with Cameron. Life is looking up . I'm thinking that maybe Ethan is going to find out what I learned in the Corps tomorrow if he tries another HIYAA!!! kick to the chest on me.

Just a quick update on other stuff going on. I did decide to at least apply for that position out of state. I was a bit reserved but I have a feeling that even if I don't get the position I have put my name out there and they will be absolutely aware of what my abilities are now. I have to admit it took me about 10 minutes to hit the send button.

The other bit of news is that my father goes in tomorrow morning for a biopsy of his lung. If the spot they found turns out to be scar tissue (which is what the doctor has been telling him for years now) then there is a good chance he could be accepted for the donor program. So fingers and toes are crossed at this point.

Since tomorrow is my birthday I have decided that I really only want three things. To survive the HIYAA!!!, to survive the tennis lesson, and for my dad to have an easy time with the procedure. Everything else has taken care of itself so far.

So there you go Momma Fargo, I think break is over for now :) You know I enjoyed that iced tea and all but a Sam Adams sure does sound good right about now. Oh the joys of getting older and feeling those aches and pains soooo clearly.

I guess I have been caught up in my own little world lately. I'm on the computer mostly for work, and the occasional FB thingy....(can't get away from that for some reason.) Work has unfortunately become just that.....work. I used to enjoy my days, but lately it's just a job and I'm pretty sure it's because of all the rest of the stuff that goes on.

For those that didn't know. My father is not well. He has along with emphezyma, Bronchiectasis. So my parents spent a week in Stanford while they ran tests on him to decide if he would make a good candidate for a lung transplant. It turns out that he very well may make the cut for a double lung transplant. I never thought I would say that I'm happy to hear that my dad could receive something like this.

I've watched him go from being out of breath on occasion, to taking breathing treatments once a day, to now taking breathing treatments 4 times a day while being hooked up to oxygen all the time. To say that it's disturbing is to minimize it. I know that he is feeling sorry for himself, and I try to keep him out of that funk. It's not easy to tell somebody in that shape to quit acting like a baby but I find that as long as we continue to treat him like we always have things seem to be a bit easier. He doesn't like the loss of freedom and I don't blame him one bit. I help where I can without seeming to be too intrusive.

It turns out that they aren't really sure what gave him this. They thought at first it was his smoking. He hasn't smoked in almost 30 years and they thought it was residual damage from that, then they found out that he worked for a chemical company making pesticides back in the 70's. They have concluded that it is more likely this was the cause of this disease.

So now we wait for news from these doctors. It's an odd feeling to wait while you realize that total strangers are getting together to discuss whether your father deserves a chance to live or not. The staff at Stanford has been nothing short of wonderful to my father as well as the rest of my family and for that I'm eternally grateful. They don't treat him like just another patient, they treat him like a friend and I couldn't ask for more.

So here I sit wondering what to do with myself. I decided that maybe this would be a good time to just give a little update and say "I'm still here." Forgive me for the absence, I will continue to try and get here as much as I can. In the meantime I will tell you to make sure that you let your loved ones know what they mean to you. I am lucky because no matter what my father knows that I love him. He knows that because I have the chance to still tell him. I get to still be with him and no matter how much time he has, be it a year or 20, he will always know that.

My hero isn't quite the physical figure he once was, but I find that no matter, he still has the right stuff on the inside. I could only hope to hold up as well as he has so far. All I can say is be strong pop, and don't quit fighting. We are gonna beat this...........

It's been an "interesting" month. I thought that things would settle in when I got back from this training last month, but instead they have gone absolutely crazy. I feel like when I try to explain things to the guys at work lately it is more like I'm scolding my children for not cleaning their room. Why do grown men and women play dumb about the most simple task like throwing something in the garbage as compared to dropping it where they stand?

So work is busy, and family is busy. I guess that's a good thing. We are doing "stuff". Not sure if it's all good stuff, but at least we are moving forward. My kids are planning to drive my wife completely crazy I think. They know that they only have 3 months to do it before school starts and things become a bit more normal. I give the boys credit because they are troopers and have come up with some truly inventive ways to make my wife pull her hair out. I try to run interference, but I'm learning that makes me a target so I think that I'll stay out of that one... :)

The biggest thing really going on right now is with my pop. He has bad lungs. He's had this condition for a long time, but recently it's become worse, and they have decided to send him to Stanford and San Francisco to look into the possibility of a lung transplant. To say that he's nervous would be an understatement. I do know that this would be a great thing if they accepted him into the transplant program. Quality of life is something that many of us don't stop and think on. Without it we are just using oxygen (some of us not as much as others). He's not happy, and I think this could be the difference for him. After everything he has sacrificed I think he deserves this (ok, I'm a bit biased on this one). So we are crossing fingers, toes and every other appendage that will cross. If you are into the whole praying thing, PLEASE add my pop to the list.

So I am trying to balance, everything, and obviously my blogging has suffered (that also depends on if you consider my blog worth reading). I think I have it worked out and am trying to get here regular now.

So enjoy the summer ( unless you are on the east coast..yuck heatwave). I hit the beach today and it was a cool 63 degrees with a nice breeze blowing. I could get used to that, unfortunately the beach is a few hours away so we will have to wait for another trip to the water.

Last night I had the honor of witnessing my nephew graduate from High School. I consider it an honor because in this new world we live in, sometimes family isn't thought of first when it comes to these activities. My nephew saw fit to make sure that my wife and I as well as my 3 sons had tickets to attend.

We listened to the speakers come and go, offering up their take on this graduating class. We were reminded of how much they have grown over their 4 years at high school. The names were called, the diplomas given, and all the friends and family rushed onto the stadium grass (actually astro-turf) to find their son/daughter, sister/brother, friend, relative, and sometimes neighborhood kid who didn't have any family attend. It was quite remarkable to watch the looks on these young adults faces. They didn't show worry over the current state of things, they showed hope, excitement, and determination. It gave me a good feeling to recognize those ambitious qualities in the next graduating class.

I realize that this is merely their first true hurdle. The way things have changed now, you can't get by very often with just a high school education. Some higher learning is required to compete in the business arena in today's world. My nephew is planning on college and for that I'm extremely happy. He realized early on that a college education is necessary.

It all leads me to wonder about my children as they move through school. I have one graduating next year. He wants to be a chef. I am more than happy about that (I love my pasta). I also understand that culinary school is not some fly by night course that you can complete in a week. It's expensive, and it's involved. I have tried to impress that upon his young mind, and I think that most of the time, he understands. It's been his dream since he was about 6 years old, and I'm going to do what I can to see it come true for him.

My younger ones don't speak too much about after high school yet. My middle son is going into 7th grade and he is excited if a bit nervous. My youngest is still in grammar school and has a good deal of time to figure it out (they don't make you give career choices in 4th grade....yet). Regardless of what they decide, I believe that they will make more good choices than bad. They will learn to live with those choices and be stronger because of them.

I watched that in my nephew. He has made his fair share of bad decisions, and he has paid the price for some of them, but he never tried to put them off on anyone else. He owned those mistakes and wore them like a badge of honor. He is truly growing up because he has taken the good and the bad and saw only what needed to be done, not what could have been done, or should have been done. He is finally able to understand that it's not what you could have done that matters, but what you are doing. The plan is laid out in his head and he is following it. No excuses, no complaining, just determined.

I see these young people starting out their lives and I have a renewed feeling.....

It feels like hope...

Congratulations Ryan.....You are a great young man, and I know you are going to do great things with your life. It's men like you that inspire hope in men like me.....

One day while Ian and I were trading remarks back and forth via email, I made the comment "Welcome to My World!" He immediately replied and told me that would be a great title for a post. He even gave me some really solid ideas on what to post about. So I think that today is fitting for a glimpse into My World!

My world basically revolves around my family....My boys are constantly doing or saying something that keeps me thinking, or blushing, or pulling my hair out. I understand that it's their job to put dad into an early grave, and I have to say that normally they do a pretty good job. Now usually it's my two younger boys that come up with the questions that make you go Hmmm? (remember Arsenio?) Not today though. Today it was my 17 year old.

He and I had a discussion about this new federal law that will allow same sex couples to have the same benefits as hetero couples. It's all a crock though. It is really the federal government saying that if you are unmarried and together you can have the benefits of a married couple because they extended those same benefits to unmarried straight couples too. That's not the point of the story though.

I asked my son what he thought about it. He explained to me that he doesn't see why anybody would need to get married anymore. I felt that this was a prime opportunity for me to impart some fatherly advice on my oldest. So I asked if he thought marriage was just to get benefits. "Of course not" he said. "It's also for tax purposes." Jaw dropped. I asked him if it had anything to do with love or God? "I guess so for some people, but most people just want the perks dad." My first reaction was to tell him how wrong he was. My second reaction was to think about it before telling him how wrong he was. It forced me to take a good hard look at my own marriage. I have always believed I am in love with my wife. Not for a second did I get married to get a tax break, or better benefits. I had to be fair though and look at my relationship objectively. So I asked oldest son if he thought that was why I got married? "Don't be dumb." (aren't kids great when they are being honest?) He proceeded to tell me that he didn't know why I ever married his mom, but he was sure that's not why I married his step mom. So after controlling my laughter I pressed on.

We went through the list. My parents, his aunts, his other grandparents, even my in-laws. He told me no at every turn. That was about the time the lights clicked on for him I think. He hadn't made the remark personal enough when he made it, but after he looked at his family he realized that maybe there are some people that get married for the "right" reasons. I was pretty proud of myself and gave a mental pat on the back for my ability to guide this young mind in the right direction.

As he was getting ready to leave, I asked him if he would ever consider marrying for anything but love. As he walked out the door he told me "No way." Then about ten steps later as he was rounding the flowerbed to head to the street he turned around and said, "Well maybe if she's rich." I took the mental pat back and just shook my head. Welcome to my world........

A great many of my posts have dealt with my father. I was fortunate enough to have a dad who was dedicated to my growing up. I have made mention of Mom, but not in any detail. I figured that Mother's Day is a fitting time to say thank you to a truly great woman.

My mom is an only child. She was raised in a VERY Italian culture. She didn't even speak English until she was ready to enter Kindergarten. My grandparents decided that this was the country they would live in, and this would be the language they should speak. Mom learned English at the age of 5 and in time to go to school.

She grew up unlike many only children. She was not especially spoiled, and her parents didn't have a lot of time for her. My grandparents both worked (not real common back in the day). My grandmother worked at an Olive factory and my grandfather was a baker. So mom spent a good deal of time with Aunts and Uncles.

I have heard all the tales of her growing up so many times that they come to my mind without hesitation. I can see the family outings in the mountains that she spoke of so often, in my mind as clearly as if I was there. I was fortunate enough to get to enjoy many of those same things with Mom and Dad as we grew up.

Mom worked as a teacher's aide for an elementary school. The kids were drawn to her, because she has a ready smile for everybody. She would patiently guide them through the school work and I later met many kids from her classes that told me often that she was far better than their teacher. My mom is somebody who wants to help everybody. She was an aide for a number of years before she moved up to the Administrative offices. She became an assistant to the Superintendent of Schools. My mom was so proud of her accomplishment. She never had a college education, but she managed to handle the job as if she was born to it.

Now along with working at the school, mom also took other jobs to make ends meet. She worked on the assembly line of a chip factory at night for a while as well. I can still remember her coming home with the scent of tortilla chips on her clothes. She loved that job even though it was just working a line. She told me often that it reminded her that she can always find something to feed her family if she has to. Mom was never too proud to do what needed to be done. I learned that lesson, just not as quickly as she did.

I can say that throughout my entire childhood I can't remember a time we didn't have dinner as a family. If mom wasn't there the dinner was already made and my dad would heat it up. We would eat as a family of 5 or a family of 4, but we would eat as a family. That was because Mom INSISTED that we sit together and talk about our day. We would get the chance to tell our parents how school was going, and what we did well or not so well that day. Dinner was a great time in my house as a kid.

Mom has seen me through illness, happiness, injury, marriage, divorce, children, financial ruin, personal ruin, and personal triumph. The most important thing Mom has done is see me through life. She has always been there, usually quietly in the background offering support or advice. Never forcing her opinion on me, but always ready to offer it if I asked (sometimes when I didn't). She has loved me unconditionally, defended me faithfully, and I could not ask for a better Grandmother for my children.

So this is just a small way for me to say...Mom I Love you...Thank you for everything you have done and continue to do for this not so perfect son of yours.

Happy Mother's Day.....

Since I'm a father I think the most precious thing I can be entrusted with is the care of my children. They are depending on my to protect them, feed them, give them advice, and most of all to love them. They don't necessarily understand why they expect these things of me any more than I could understand why I know they are expected. It's the job of every parent to protect their child PERIOD.

I was shocked and disgusted when I read about the woman that drowned her baby in a bathtub in a hotel room a few weeks ago. There were two other children left untouched in the room, tucked in bed. This woman, I'm told was suffering from postpartum depression or something similar since they aren't yet sure. I didn't think it got worse than doing that. I had heard of other cases of a mother killing their child, but that is one of the worst ways I could think of. I am pretty sure because that is my great fear, to drown (of course that is in the deep dark water somewhere not a tub). I figured that after reading that I was pretty desensitized to any other horrid, unspeakable acts by the human race upon their children, but I was wrong.

A few days ago a 911 operator received a call from a man who said that a child was stabbed and thrown down some steps. The officers responded and found a boy of 3 who had been stabbed somewhere in the vicinity of 15 times and then thrown down his concrete steps to the floor below. The witness who happened to be a neighbor said that he saw the boy with multiple stab wounds at the bottom of the stairs and all he could hear was the boy calling out "mommy". It turns out that his mother was the person who stabbed him and then tried to fight with the officers, telling them not to help the child. She had a 2 month old baby in her home.

I'm not a person who sheds a tear about many things. I figured that not many things could affect my heart in a way to bring tears anymore. I was wrong. The thought of this little boy who only knows that mom is there to protect and watch over him, was still calling for the monster who was the reason for all of his pain. He is in critical condition in the hospital as I type this, and they don't know if he will recover or not. His mother was obviously arrested and the little baby girl was taken by child protective services.

People have been making excuses for this woman on the news, on the radio, in the newspapers and around our office even. I hear that she had so many mental problems and that she suffered from postpartum psychosis. There were other people coming on a talk show and telling their stories of near misses due to the same illness.

As I listened to the stories one thing kept crawling back into my mind. ALMOST, they almost hurt their children. They saw they had a problem and got help. They saw something was wrong and took a chance for some self reflection. They saw a problem and they did something about it. They didn't just go half cocked and harm their child. They didn't kill their most precious treasure. They realized soon enough that they could and should do something, that it was their responsibility to take care and protect their child.

I don't feel pity for this woman, and I surely don't feel compassion for her. I feel only sorrow for the poor little boy and little girl. People are too quick to blame everything on a mental disparity. They are quick to have an excuse for something going wrong. The mother had some history of drugs, so could that have maybe been a contributing factor? Was the family aware of what was going on? To some degree they were the sister or sister-in-law thought that drugs were playing a role.

I read about parents struggling to save their children every day. We are watching someone we read here in our own little blog world deal with tragic circumstances with their little monkey. These are people that are striving to do all they can to protect those who rely on us for so much, and then I see the evil, disgusting head of this woman rear itself as she tries to snuff out one of the only things that could have given her any hope of being a productive human being. Her simple task was to raise and love her children and she failed. She failed her poor little boy and that now motherless little girl. Maybe she was afraid to ask for help, and maybe she didn't see a problem. Maybe she thought everybody would look down on her if she admitted she couldn't do it.

I look around me nowadays and I see grief, and fear. I see people full of hopelessness and I see people who have given up. Maybe this woman is just a sign of where we are heading. Maybe she is a front runner to what the parents of the future will be like. This could be the precursor to a truly hellish future. I like to think it's not. I like to think that we are just in an emotional funk as a society. I am hopeful that we are going to figure this out, and we are going to teach our children to be loving, compassionate, caring parents. That is the most important lesson we can give our kids. We can teach them that it's ok to ask for help if we are feeling helpless. It's ok to accept a helping hand when we know we are at the end of our rope. It's also ok to admit we failed at something. We learn far more from our failures than our success. It's not about falling down, it's about getting back up. It's about doing right no matter how badly we are tempted to do wrong.

That is the legacy I'm leaving my kids. Never give up, never lose hope, never stop caring. Randy Travis said it pretty good..."It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you, it's what you leave behind you when you go.

There were two daughters, separated by 3 years. They grew up moving around a little bit. Never in the same place all that long. Maybe not moving out of town, but house to house was the order of the day. It didn't seem to hurt the children on the outside, but on the inside where it mattered there were changes. Those girls learned to never make really good friends, because after all they would just move away and that hurt too much. So their childhood was spent entertaining each other more than other children. you would think that these 2 sisters would be thicker than thieves.

The teen years hit, and of course things changed a little bit. One was a teen the other still pre and everybody knows that puberty does some funny things to the mind (as well as the body). The girls would still hang out, but maybe not so much as before. The oldest had discovered boys, and that opened a whole new world. Her dad was too busy making a living to pay all that much attention to what the girls did. he was usually only around on the weekends. They found out later, that making a living wasn't necessarily working, he had other "interests" that didn't include making money. They did include other women though.

Their mom tried in the best way she could to make a normal home for the girls, but she was ill-equipped to handle anything that required that much emotional involvement. It seems the whole family had a pretty huge emotional detachment. The girls continued to grow up learning to be cordial without getting attached. Eventually both girls were teens and that's where the headaches began.

The youngest of them thought that boys were just objects to be used for whatever she could make them do. She was a pretty girl, and when she wanted to she could be oh so sweet. Not many would guess that she was a borderline sociopath. This girl was basically without conscience. The oldest tried harder to be the kind of person she thought was expected. besides that she wanted so much to be praised by her parents. She did well in school, never got in trouble, and did her chores. Funny thing, how parents are automatically drawn to the troublemakers, they think they need to fix what's wrong. They don't understand that sometimes, all they need to do is pay some more attention to their child. That younger daughter was making waves, not big ones, just enough to get her on the radar with her parents. She figured out that the best way to get attention from them was to get into a little bit of trouble. Then they would come running in to try and fix the problem.

A few more years ran by and the older girl was in a relationship. She was serious about this, or so she thought. Soon to be a senior in high school, she looked forward to being with him. He had defended her against everybody and everything that stood in front of her. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to have somebody love her unconditionally. It scared her though, because deep down she knew this couldn't last. She had learned that lesson a long time ago. As soon as you start to really care about somebody, that was when everything went bad and either they would move or the object of her affection would. Sure enough her father came home one afternoon, just as summer vacation had started. "We are moving." It turns out that he had a chance to buy a business and they just couldn't pass up the opportunity. Once again her theory was proven correct. Fall in love and get hurt. What was the point really.

She knew she had to tell her boyfriend the bad news. He took it in stride, never complained or got bitter that she could see. She just figured he was already figuring other girls he could get. So they enjoyed their summer, but she always remembered that it would be only a matter of weeks until her life would have to start over yet again. The hot months flew by, and they had a great time. He had graduated that year, and although he worked much of the time he would always find time to get to her house, or write her a letter (that's when people write down words on paper). Before she knew it August was over. Summer had come to and end.

The family moved about 3 1/2 hours away. The boyfriend helped move them into the new house, and told her that he would visit often. She knew he was just being nice. After all how could he drive 3 1/2 hours that often while he was working. Plus she had one more year of school. Things couldn't look worse for her. She hated her family, she hated her life, and she hated her boyfriend for trying to be nice. She wanted everybody and everything to go away. So many times she had secretly wished that she was brave enough to just end it all. She realized that she didn't have that courage to take her life though. She was resigned to the fact that she would have to endure yet another new town, and another new school. Somehow she would have to find people to at least hang around with for the year. After all she would be a senior and she was coming into a school where everybody had known each other for at least 6 years, and in many cases much longer. She knew that this would be a year to forget. Why couldn't her dad just find work in town, and she could try to be normal and get to be with her friends for her last year of high school. She thought him a bastard, but just as quickly was guilty for thinking such a thing. She loved him so much that she didn't say a word. She was convinced that Dad was doing this for the family. She didn't realize at that young age that her dad was indeed a bastard. He was selfish and narrow minded. He destroyed his children's youth for his gain, and thought nothing of it.


To be continued..............

"I am not a criminal." This phrase was adamantly professed by Tricky Dick. For those of you not familiar with American Politics Richard Nixon. While I don't have many things in common with Richard Nixon, this will be one of them. I am adamantly professing I AM NOT A CRIMINAL!

I'm sure that a few of you saw my post some time back regarding an issue I had with child support. I am a divorced and remarried father. I have a son from a previous marriage and I have been paying faithfully for 15 1/2 years. He's my kid and I love him dearly. He spends a great deal of time with me, and even though I could have gone back to court to get the payment arrangements changed, I figured if it's not hurting me, maybe it can help him (finacially) so I left it.

I won't go into all the specifics from last time, but the bottom line is I have been paying a double payment because of some dishonesty by the other parent. I was foolish enough to try and help out and got burned, so now I'm basically at the mercy of the California Department of Child Support Services. They are essentially in the same category as Macy's to me... Call em the devil or the anti-christ it's the same thing...

I sent about 5 letters and made so many phone calls it's not even funny. I had my money returned the last time (except for that $100 that BofA keeps for an admin fee). This time they did it again without warning. I'm fed up with their system of doing things. There is no way short of spending all the time and MONEY you need for court to get this resolved. The child support system is purely a collection agency. They don't care or want to know what the situation is. They don't want to be bothered with the specifics of anything. Just pay on time and they will leave you alone. Don't pay on time, or have an issue and you are gonna have problems. A levy on your bank account, a lien on your home, your drivers license could get suspended. There are a number of things they could do, and more things that they threaten to do.

I sent one more letter in an attempt to get some reaction from these less than cooperative people. I'm gonna share that with you. Maybe it was a bit over the top but I don't think so.

To Whom it May Concern,

On Friday March 12, 2010 my bank account had $100.00 removed from it. That left my account with approximately ____ in it. I was informed by the bank that the charge was a non-refundable fee for a levy that is placed on our checking account. This is the second time this has occurred. The last time the account had the money returned to it with no explanations to how or when it happened. I have sent numerous emails without a single response. I would like to know what purpose it serves to apply this levy to an account that doesn't even have the money to cover the cost of the levy? All this has done is cause another hardship upon the remainder of my family.

I would like this matter resolved, and I'm concerned that nobody seems to have the time to respond to a simple email regarding the matter. I have tried phone calls to the local office and have been sent repeatedly to this email. I tried phone calls to the 800 number and they went unanswered. Is the fact that I'm not the custodial parent or the fact that Mrs. _____ is an employee of the state a reason for this office to completely ignore me since November?

All I'm asking for is some due diligence in this matter. My livelihood is threatened as each time this happens I lose yet another $100.00 from my account that won't be returned.

I look forward to your timely response in this matter.

Thank you,

Looking at it again, I realize that it wasn't that staunch at all. I think it brought up the point, but I have yet to receive a response. The State of California is a joke when it comes to Government. They have neither the means nor the will to correct mistakes they make. They lack the leadership, and moral compass required to lead a state of this magnitude. It's no wonder that we are submerged in debt and there are exactly zero long term plans to alleviate the shortcomings. I'm fed up with all the BS that comes with the state.

Wake up State agencies and do the damn job you are paid to do.... Sooner or later somebody with a set of juevos is gonna come along and FIRE YOUR ASS!!!! I just wish it was me or at the very least I could be present when it happens. Until then I will have to decide if I want to spend my money paying support that I don't owe or paying for a lawyer I shouldn't need.

*Steps down from Soap Box*

There is a man I know. We are going to call him Manny for the sake of this post. Manny grew up in a rather large household. Now Manny had a household full of brothers and sisters, and most of them were busy getting into trouble of one type or another. They didn't excel in school, and for that matter didn't excel in social settings. The family was a bit dysfunctional (more than a bit). The one bright spot for Manny was sports.

He could play any game that involved a ball and coordination. A naturally talented athlete, with an uncanny ability to win. He found the weakness in his opponent and exploited it. One of the best baseball players I've ever seen. Never played at a professional level, but I'm quite sure that if things were a little different in his personal life he could have and he would have succeeded. He was a great football player, and basketball player as well. I got him a little bit involved in tennis when I was in high school. I had been playing competitively for about 3 years when Manny and I started playing. Within 3 weeks he was keeping up with me. Nothing can take the ego away like that.

When Manny played baseball he had no fans in the stands. His parents didn't go to his games, and they didn't take him to his practice. He would ride his bike across town to practice. Never confiding in his coach that he didn't have a ride to or from. He was driven when he was on the field though. Singular in his goal, and he couldn't be swayed. Nothing rattled this guy when he was competing.

After graduation Manny got involved with a girl. This was only his second serious relationship. This turned out to be his wife. Now Manny wanted kids, but his wife wasn't a big fan of having a bunch of children. They ended up having one son. The greatest day in Manny's life was when his son was born. All those things his parents never did for him he would do for his own son. He saw immediately that the boy was going to be an athlete. Hitting baseballs at age 4 and fielding grounders at age 5 he was well on his way.

The big problem for Manny was his temper. He could maintain it on the field (usually). He yelled and argued on the field, but that was more to irritate and throw the other team off balance. Now as the parent of a player, he had to check his comments more often. Unfortunately he didn't. I used to think that he was trying to relive his youth through his son. As it turns out, he wasn't. He didn't believe for one minute that anybody should take advantage of his child, and he was going to do everything in his power to protect him. He still found himself looking like a fool on a few occasions because he couldn't control that temper (or that mouth).

Manny's son is graduating this year. This will be the boys last year as a ball player. Manny had high hopes for him, as he is truly a gifted athlete and deserves the playing time, that by the way he is being denied. Politics in sports is a sad thing and the kids don't deserve some of the treatment that comes from it.

Recently Manny opened his mouth again and went off the deep end. His son wasn't there to witness it, but some of the other kids heard and told the boy what was said.
Now more fences need to be mended. His son finally understands that his dad loves him and only wants to help and protect him. But Manny has had to take a few days to gather his wits about him and try to undo the damage he feels that he has done.

I'm here to tell you that anybody who will put himself in harms way to protect his child is a great parent. We all go about it different and some of us have better results than others. It doesn't matter though, because that is our job. Manny did his job, just not in the way that many of us have done ours.

So to you Manny I want to say I think you are one hell of a dad. I know that one day you are going to look back at some of your blunders and realize that maybe it wasn't the best way to handle things, but the important thing was you tried. You have raised a great kid, and half of that is your doing. Don't let anybody ever tell you otherwise. I'm sorry that you are having those doubts, but you did right my friend.

Your boy will appreciate all you have done even more as he gets older and has a family of his own. So take heart Manny...You did right....

Just a quick note. My brother in law was in a serious car accident. He broke his neck, his wrist, most of his ribs, and bruised a couple of organs in the process.

He hasn't woken up yet, and we are just waiting to find out what if any damage was done to his brain function.

I don't always see eye to eye with him, but he's still part of my family and I love him. I'm praying for you Bobby...

There have been a number of posts on here where I've spoken fondly of my childhood. I enjoyed growing up in many ways. I'm not going to say it was perfect, because we all know that it's just not the reality of most childhoods. There are ups and downs that go with any growth. It's never going to be a completely painless process.

While I had a great family unit, that doesn't mean that we had all the material things that make life easier. When I was pretty young, maybe 8 or 9 my dad still had the old manual lawn mower. Now if I got in trouble I would have to mow the lawn with that dang thing. It's not the easiest piece of equipment to push I can tell you that. For those of you that don't know the old reel mowers that were manual were people powered. In other words the faster you pushed the faster the reel turned and cut the grass. If you were lucky you had a really sharp blade. If you were unlucky then it was dull (my dad kept it dull if I was going to mow). We had a dishwasher, her name was Dee and she was my sister, and sometimes it was another guy named (yep you guessed it). We washed the dishes after dinner. Pick up your room or don't have anything was pretty much the mantra around our house.

The point is we did without lots of things that weren't essential. Not just dishwashers and lawn mowers either. We got school clothes once a year and they better last or you would have patches on your pants. For little boys that wasn't a big deal compared to little girls. My sister never said much about it, but looking back I think it bothered her. I know that it bothered my mom, but you do with what you have right?

We were never hungry and we were never meant to feel anything but loved though, and that is something more important than any RC car or video game they could have found for us.

With that type of background I can't understand for the life of me why I have chosen to live as I did for so long. When I was a bit younger and struggling as many young couples do, I would never tell my mom and dad how bad it was. I always made sure we had food on the table, but that doesn't mean that we always had other things that might make life bearable. You know little things, like a phone, or in a few cases power. I'm not saying we lived like cave dwellers. But there were a few occassions when the power was shut off because we just didn't have the money. I was too proud to ask for help from my parents. At the time I chose to put my family through those trials because of Pride or maybe a little shame.

Funny thing was that even though I never admitted to my parents when we were in these situations, they could tell. Maybe the stress on my face sometimes, or maybe my wife said something to them. Regardless of the why I can still remember my mom calling me (yeah we had a phone most of the time) and telling me that she was clearing out the cupboard and had some things that she thought maybe I would want. If not she would just give them to my brother. I would go and get what was basically a care package from mom. She did it in a way to make me not feel like I was taking charity. It's amazing what parents will do to save their kids a little discomfort.

Time moved on and things obviously improved. I have managed to make it out of all that gunk that was basically growing up. I learned a few valuable lessons along the way too. First of all, Top Ramen is indeed the most versatile food ever invented. I'm a Ramen pro and can make at least 2 dozen dishes using it as the main ingredient (look out Iron Chef). Second, if you are in trouble don't be too damned proud to ask for help as long as you realize that it's a temporary thing, and only requires temporary help. Do for yourself when you can. Thrid and most important is I realized that my crappy way of dealing with this was to hide it away from those that cared about me the most. They wanted to help, but because they didn't want to hurt my pride either they didn't step in. Ha ha I guess that makes them enablers... Regardless the lesson to be learned is never be afraid to step out there and ask for help if you really need it. Pride is a dangerous thing. It does far more damage than good in my opinion. It goes both ways, don't assume that somebody doesn't need help just because they won't ask for it. Pride be damned. Offer assistance if someone near and dear to you is in need. Don't be too afraid of hurting the ego of those you love. They will understand eventually that you are only hoping to lend a helping hand.

Pride, Ego and Shame...Three of the worst things in the world sometimes. They are also the three things that taught me the best life lessons I could learn.

Ok, I'm done preaching, so now go back to looking at those really cool pictures from Santa Barbara :)

Anybody who has read a few of my posts will know that I am a family oriented man. My family is ground zero for me. Everything else extends from that. It's how I was raised and what I experienced growing up.

I have known a few setbacks from illness and injury in my life. That's all they were though, just setbacks. I eventually recovered and moved on. Most of the time I was a little better for the experience. My poor mom and dad though, they suffered through all of my childhood mishaps and didn't miss a beat as far as I could tell.


What I didn't realize is that worry is the second thing you feel as a parent. First was love. I was there for my kids births and I was immediately in love with those little saggy wrinkled up faces. Hard to explain if you don't have kids. The second thing I felt was worry. What if..... What if they stop breathing at the hospital? What if they stop breathing at home. They are small and helpless and my wife and I are the only things standing in the way from all the bad things in the world.

My oldest son was plagued with ear infections and high fevers. For the first year of his life he had an ear infection a month and that was always accompanied with a fever over 103. He handled it like a champ though. He didn't complain a lot, he didn't whine about anything. He just sorta took it. I can remember him sitting in the bathtub running a fever of almost 104. We had pumped him full of ibuprofen and he was sitting there all flush and smiling eating a Popsicle telling me that he was feeling a little better. I knew he wasn't but he just wanted me to relax. Even at that age they know when you are wound up with worry.

My middle boy was not sick ever. But he can't stand up without getting a bump, bruise, cut, or burn. The kid is accident prone to no end, but resilient as can be. He has had stitches a few times, and he never fussed over the accident that cause them for more than a couple minutes. He has a high threshold for pain (like his dad).

The littlest of the clan has his share of normal kid sickness, but he was in the hospital for an unknown illness once. We found him in his crib as an infant just laying there listless and a small spot of dark liquid he had vomited. We didn't know what was going on and he was brought to the doctor and then the hospital. They never figured out what it was, but that kid went through a spinal tap and IV's without a peep. He was unresponsive for 3 days, and on the 4th he was completely back to normal. To this day they don't have an answer. i have a few thoughts on that and I'll share them in another post.

The point of all that is, the kids handled their respective illness and injury like it was business as usual. I on the other hand lost years and years of my life worrying over them. It's not a healthy kind of worry, because there isn't anything you can do for them. That doesn't mean I can stop worrying about them either.

I never gave much thought to it when I was having surgery or laid up in the hospital sick. I just knew that it wasn't my time yet. I knew that I was going to get better, but I had no way to comfort those that were worried about me. Fortunately for me, I was too busy being sick to think much on that part of it.

Now as a parent I get to be on that side of the fence more often. I am quite certain that I would rather be sick, because then I can be selfish and just worry about me.

My little one complained about a headache this morning. He doesn't usually cry wolf about being sick. I was immediately ready to let him stay home from school and got out the Tylenol and other assortment of medicines that I might be able to force down his throat to ensure that he stayed at least comfortable. Then I realized that I was over reacting. I got him talking and he forgot about his headache and was more than ready to get to school. I'm hopeful that it is just the remnants of the cold he is fighting off, but time will tell.

Being a parent is in the same moment the greatest and worse thing that has ever happened to me. I can't imagine my life without my boys, but do you think that they could just ease up on dad and stay healthy for maybe the next 40 years or so?

Just in case I've laid in a huge supply of bananas and oranges, but most importantly APPLES!! I don't know if that whole an apple a day thing is true, but I figure it's worth a shot. I've got apples, applesauce, apple jelly, apple crisps, and apple gogurt (yogurt in a tube is cool)!!! Yeah I'm just that bad..

My kids roll their eyes at me when I get on my "be healthy" kick. They take it with a grain of salt though. So for all you parents out there that are dealing with sick or injured youngsters. Take heart. We all know that one day they will have their own and then THEY get to put on the worry shirt.

Gotta wonder how I will handle being a grand parent.............

He lived in an abusive household. His mom was strung out on dope and his dad, well he didn't know his dad. The guy that shared the house with his mom beat him up from time to time. Most of the beating went to his younger brother. I can't imagine the life they led for the first 9 years of his life. They had no power sometimes, often cooking off of a camping range in the kitchen with cans of sterno cooking fuel. The meals consisting mostly of ramen noodles and cool aid. The house was dirty all the time and his mom was stoned and the "father" was just mean.

He came to our house at the age of 11. He was quiet and a complete introvert by this time. My wife and I felt that we had to help this kid out. We couldn't handle all three of the children, but we felt that surely one more would be ok. He didn't want to talk about anything, especially to me. I was a man so that meant that I was probably mean and nasty like the last man he knew. He was much closer to his aunt. She had been around him when he was a baby, back before it was totally terrible at that house. She was only 10 years older than him, so there was a closer bond than between he and I. I figured he could use some team activities to get him to connect with some other kids so we signed him up for baseball. I was coaching and figured this might be a good way for us to bond. We had a great season and he really took to baseball. We won our city championship that year for the minor leagues and you couldn't have asked for a better ending. He hit a single that scored the go ahead run. I felt that maybe we had made some progress.

After baseball it was cubscouts, but that didn't work so well for him. We then tried bowling. That was a hit and he did better than average at that as well. The kid is a fairly decent athlete. He just had zero self confidence. We worked on that and tried to keep him active and connected. It seemed to work for a while. There were a few calls from school, but for the most part he did his work and everything was going ok.

The teen years came and he became a little bit rebellious. He wanted to live with his grandparents. My wife and I didn't like that idea, but we figure that maybe it could be good. It turned out to be a bad thing. There was no discipline in that house. They pretty much let him do as he wished. Stay up late, pretend he was sick and stay home. Don't bother finishing homework, no problem he wouldn't get in trouble for that.

It lasted his sophmore year and then he wanted to come back. There were other things that led him to going to his grandparents. He and my wife fought often ( they were almost like siblings). It was becoming a real problem for her especially with our small child. We didn't feel that it was healthy for him to see all the conflict going on. But I was promised that things would be different. Things had changed and he was going to walk the straight and narrow. It lasted for a while. Don't get me wrong there were little hiccups in the road. He got drunk one night with some friends (I wish I only did that once as a teen). Regardless of all the little and sometimes not so little stuff. We got him through high school. The one other thing he had developed on his own was a love for the guitar and I must say he's good.

So high school is over and he finds a little job, telling us that he didn't really see college in his future. I explained that I understood, but some form of higher learnig could only do good for him. He decided against it and at 19 he was out on his own, with a couple of friends. They had jobs and were renting a house together. I was happy for him, and felt that considering his start he was gonna be ok.

He lost his job and mooched off his friends for a while. Couldn't find another job (I know it's hard) and ended up moving to another town with some other friends to look there. Got in a little trouble and came back to town and here he is again.

I must say that I feel the failure. I honestly thought that he had a shot, but I can't put the drive and determination into him. I have come to the realization that he thinks the world owes him something. And while deep down inside I might agree, because nobody deserves the hand he was dealt. I also get angry, because not everybody gets the second chance he got.

My obligation to him ended when I saw him through high school healthy and graduated. I feel now that his obligation is to me. He needs to show me that he learned something from his 8 years with this family. We are far from perfect, but we did everything we could to help him become a young adult with some hope for the future. I might have failed him at some level by not being there everytime, but he has failed me by not being determined and driven.

It's a sad time for me, but I have come to the conclusion that there isn't much else I can do. He has a little time left and he will have to find other ways besides my wife and I for his living arrangements. He is like a son to me in many regards, but he has never shown me that level of respect that my other children do. I am hoping that he clears his head and realizes that we are here for support not To support him.

Family is great and the most important thing in my life, but sometimes it just hurts too damned much....

Earlier today I was visiting one of my favorite blogs to read http://thedailydoseofreality.blogspot.com/ . If you have a few minutes I suggest you drop by and check it out. Ian has a great style and poses some interesting questions. You won't be disappointed. So anywho I was answering a little questionaire over there and one of the questions asked to name my autobiography if I was to write one. I made reference to my father, because he is and always will be my hero.

I guess that might sound corny or sappy to some, but I happen to think that it's something more of us need to have in our lives....Heroes.
I'll tell you a little bit about my hero. My dad, Jack is a worker. He was a furniture mover, a diamond saw operator, a chemical technician (mixed big vats of chemicals). He worked his regular job, and then on weekends he played in a band. He was a very talented guitarist as a young man, and became a very talented bass player as an older man.

I rarely saw my father before 6:00 pm. He was gone before I got up, and he got home well after I was done with homework, and had settled into a book, or a board game, or some other kid game that I would use to placate myself until he arrived. Now dinner was generally when dad got home, which was usually around 6:00. Occassionally it was 5:30 and those were the especially good days for me.

As soon as the el camino came pulling into the driveway, I was trotting towards the car, to see if dad wanted to play some catch before dinner. Looking back I can't remember a time that he said no. He would always say, "Let me put my stuff away and say hi to your mom." Off he would go into the house for all of 5 minutes and back he would be. We would have a catch for about 15 or 20 minutes till mom hollered "DINNER". In we would go to clean up and eat.

Now dad worked all week, and most of the weekends, but he didn't miss Little League, Football, Basketball, Tennis, Cubscouts, Band or the occassional school program in the evenings that I managed to get myself into. He was my biggest fan, and I never heard him say a foul word in the stands. He didn't shout at the umps for bad calls, he didn't yell at ref's for bad calls, he didn't argue with other parents. he simply cheered me on, by being there hollering for me when I did something good, and always telling me what a great job I did, or if I might want to work on some problem or other that I had over the weekend. He didn't criticize me for not being the best player on the team. He always told me that I can be as good or bad as I worked to be. I took that to heart. I practiced every day for whatever sport I was playing. This bled over into my school years as well. I knew that if my grades fell, no matter what the school said, Dad would not let me play.

He saw me through the awkard moments of my teen years, like the first time I got drunk, my first heartbreak, first suspension, first bad grade. He also saw me through 104 stitches in my face after I ran through a sliding glass door. He never said a thing that would make me worry through the whole 4 hours that they stitched my face, he just sat there offering some encouragement when I started getting nervouse or down. He saw me through meningitis. My mom and dad sat at the hospital day after day, waiting for word that I would get better or die. For a week, they didn't know so my parents had to deal with that. Through it all they managed, and so did I.

I joined the Marine Corps and I watched the mix of pride and fear go across my fathers face as I explained to him what I planned to do. He didn't like me going, but he supported me through it all. I came back in one piece, but the whole time I was gone, if I was at base it was never more than 3 days between getting a phone call from my dad and a letter from mom.

He helped me through my divorce. He let me be an ass just because I was mad at the world for my marriage falling apart. He didn't blame me, he didn't try to tell me how to handle it, he just let me be, and I always knew that he was right there.

I am remarried (12 years now), and I have more children, and dad is getting up there in the years a little bit. His health is not all the great, and he will be the first to say that it's his own fault. Years of smoking have led him to COPD. He deals with it, and he still works (retiring this December). Yet throught everything, my children know that Papos is there for them just like he was there for me. He loves them unconditionally and they know that even if they don't know what unconditionally means. My son has told me many times that he could tell Papos anything and he would understand.

I still talk to my parents everyday. I live about 1/2 mile away from them and make a point of getting over to the house at least a couple times a week. I enjoy just having a chat with my Pop every now and then. We can joke around or talk about anything, sports, politics, religion and even though we don't always see eye to eye we don't get mad at each other over it.

So this is my hero. Maybe some of you have one, and maybe you don't, but this man is the reason I became the man I am. I am forever grateful to my father for his advice, and his understanding, and even though he isn't one to say it very often, I'm most grateful for his love.