Showing posts with label Loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loss. Show all posts

Friday, June 17, 2016

16 things I learned from my dad in 16 years.


In June we honor dads or the men in our children’s lives. This is one of the most important jobs a man can have and the impact of a father on a son or daughter’s life is profound. I had a wonderful father for the first 16 years of my life. His sudden departure from a heart attack left my mom with 5 teenagers, one with special needs (no, not me) and her career was as a piano teacher from home and caring for her big family. It was hard, but we made it and I truly feel that the impact my dad had on us when we were younger helped get us through the really tough times without him. Here’s 16 things I learned from my dad in 16 short years.

11)      I learned that if you want something, work hard for it. My dad always had big dreams and he worked so hard to make his dreams happen.
22)      I learned to work with my hands. One of my dad’s big dreams was to build a log cabin on our property in Coeur d’ Alene. It took over a decade to happen, but in that time we learned to make cement, build footings, frame walls, cut wood and logs, build reinforcement walls, make a plan and the list goes on. He passed away just before it was finished.
33)      I learned to dream big. My dad was a dreamer and he was a visionary. He loved technology (the little that existed back then) and often talked of the future where cars would drive themselves and TV’s would hang on walls.
44)      I learned to appreciate the stars. My dad loved astronomy and he spent many hours looking through a telescope and teaching me about the world outside of our planet.
55)      I learned to listen to people. My dad was a really good listener. He rarely jumped to conclusions and had a true interest in what people had to say. He would come home and go to each of us and ask about our day, then he would listen. What a gift that is especially when a man listens to his daughter and shows interest in her world.
66)      I learned about justice. One time he saw me hit my best friend when I was way beyond the age of it being developmentally appropriate. He came out and told us both to come in and he sat down and made us talk through it. He listened and he meted out justice. I had to apologize, but in the long run, I kept my friend.
77)      I learned about forgiveness. My dad was one of the kindest people I know. He gave people the benefit of the doubt and forgave slights in a way that made him easy to be your friend.
88)      I learned about faith and tradition. We were raised Catholic and no matter where we were we always attended mass. One time he attended in his bright orange bathing suit because we didn’t have time for him to change his clothes and he said, “God doesn’t care, he cares more if I’m not here.” The congregation evidently cared though because the next week in the bulletin it said, “No bathing suits at church please.”
99)      I learned that education is crucial. We lived in Maryland and would drive to our cabin in Northern Idaho every summer. On these trips we drove through Moscow, where both my parents went to college and he would proclaim, “This is where you kids will go to school.” We’d pour out of the car and walk around the gorgeous campus and 3 out of 5 of us did go to school there.
110)   I learned how to drive. My dad LOVED driving a car, in fact he loved cars. He was an engineer that built dams for a living but was passionate about engines and vehicles. We had six vehicles at times which we didn’t realize the neighbors hated until my sister told a friend my dad bought my mom a new car, and she proclaimed, “Is it another junker?”
111)   I learned to take time to travel. My dad took 5 weeks off every summer and we drove out to Idaho, a 2,500 mile trip in a station wagon with 7 people and 2 dogs. My parents made this the best memories of our lives. The getting there was equally as much fun as being there.
112)   I learned the importance of eating dinner together. My dad and mom insisted that we eat dinner together even when we had jobs and homework and school and practice. We still had dinner together almost every night and when he passed away it was the thing I missed most.
113)   I learned to love music. My mom was the official musician yet my dad was a piano player who loved to improvise. He would begin a song and I would recognize it then he’d go off on some tangent and create his own version of it. It was always hard to sing along, but we laughed a lot about it. We all played an instrument and some of my favorite memories are of us as a band.
114)   I learned to hope. In Maryland we rarely had snow. One Christmas Eve I was pretty sad about it and he told me not to lose hope. That night about 1 a.m. he came in and woke me up and took me outside to see snow on the ground. What a gift that moment was. We watched for several minutes and by the morning it was gone. I learned to never give up hope.
115)   I learned to be funny. No one thinks the typical engineer is funny but my dad was funny. He loved jokes, he would do a little jig now and then and he would be silly at times. He teased us often, but never in a way that made us feel less than.
116)   I learned to do my best. When my grades came in and I was upset to show him I’d gotten a C in math (one of his favorite subjects) we had a heart to heart. He asked me if I’d done my best. I responded that I had. He told me that if I put everything I had into that grade then I should be proud of it. I learned too to take pride in my accomplishments even when they fell short of my expectations.


It’s the everyday, simple conversations, examples that are set, moments to remember, that make up a relationship. Dads are super special. They contribute beyond measure to the positive outcomes of their children. It is my hope today that you love on your own dad and the dad or man who is raising your children and recognize him for the incredible gift he is to this world. Happy Father’s Day. 

Saturday, May 17, 2014

My first and second husband PART II

Divorce is both an ending and a beginning. While the possibilities of how things will turn out are both fascinating and terrifying it's a precipice we stand on for some time before we know where we land.

I was 27, divorced with a two year old (read last blog, Part I for details) and terrified yet fascinated by what my new world would bring. They say divorced adults act a lot like teenagers without most of the reservations we had as teens. I would say this is somewhat true, but will also spare you the details other than to say my sister Jeanine and I loved going out dancing on Friday nights while mom took care of our kids.

After a year apart Joe, my first husband, whom I was now divorced from, moved to town and life got more complicated.

I had settled into a routine with our son, Alex that included arriving at work at 6:30 am, leaving at 3:30 pm then riding my bike with him on the back through the parks in Boise. I lived in a lovely home on Bannock after a brief stay with my mom who graciously allowed us to live with her for awhile. I was saving for a house and I had two jobs.  

One was at a childcare center that was very expensive (I could only afford to have my son there because I was a teacher) and launched my career in early childhood. The other was at J.C. Penny's selling housewares which was my Friday night and weekend job that landed me downtown near my home on Bannock.

Repairing relationships takes many things, most of which are really, really hard, much of which simply takes time.

When Joe moved to town, I wanted one thing. A routine that was predictable and that Alex would benefit from. At first it was sporadic and I would arrive at his center (by then Alex had moved to another branch so he could benefit from some separation) and I would arrive to find out his dad had picked him up. Our first of many negotiations ensued.

It was the hardest thing we'd done to date. We sat down and worked out a schedule that we promised to stick to. We were all about Team Alex and while we didn't like the restrictions, we knew he was at the center of our decisions and worked hard to be adult about it.

Joe's parents had been divorced and set a wonderful example of communication and togetherness and compromise that we tried to follow. In fact one of my favorite memories of this time was when his parents called me and asked if they could bring Alex a gift. They knew I had a yard at the Bannock house and asked if they could bring him a swing set.

It was one of the most touching moments of my life.

They showed up in their pick up truck with a swing set for him. In a gigantic box that took all three adults and one toddler to heave out and carry to the back yard.

My Mother-in-Laws husband, Jon, spent an entire day putting it together in our back yard while Judy and I visited and she basked in the presence of her grandson. She expressed her fears that she worried I wouldn't want them in our lives anymore and how much they still wanted to be a part of our lives. We cried, we hugged, we made promises that were kept.

Healing occurred that day. Healing that was both important and necessary for our family to restore it's brokenness. 

By family I mean everyone. We put off telling our family because as the first married on both sides, we knew how disappointed they would all be. We knew that facing that disappointment and seeing it in our families eyes would hurt...and we were right. It did. They grieved and adjusted too.

When my mom told her best friend, who was the mother of my best friend and Maid of Honor, she replied, "I would do anything if my daughter could call and tell me she was getting a divorce."

Her daughter, our Maid of Honor had passed away in a car accident just a few years before.

My mom said this changed her entire perspective...there are worse things than divorce. 

It's odd watching your ex spouse date other people and there was always Alex to think of. How long do you wait before he meets someone? Should he ever meet someone? Should the ex be able to introduce him to other women and if so, when? These are all important questions that divorced parents face.

For us, it boiled down to trusting that the other person was firmly and forever Team Alex. That doesn't mean there weren't fears, or concerns, or jealousy or anger. What it means is we tried hard to trust that the other parent would make the best choice possible and that we had to let go because, after all, we'd created this.

We both ended up doing what the other wished we'd done all along. I had to work and build a career. I couldn't be at home, sulking, wishing for more involvement from my spouse. I guess it should've been no surprise when Joe sent me a huge bouquet with a congratulations note when I became the Director of the childcare I worked at. In the meantime, he was parenting more.

I was so proud of him each time he took his sons hand and walked away from me to their life together but it also broke my heart that I wasn't a part of it. To share your child with anyone, even if it's their biological parent just doesn't feel right. When you're away, you want them, when you're together you think about when you'll be apart and figure out ways to enhance your own life and fill it with meaningful things until you can be together again. It was both brutal and good for me.

I was a better parent by far, and so was he. Our respect for one another was growing each day.

I did buy that house and as parents we struggled along and did our best and when I asked Joe if he wanted to take a parenting class with me, he agreed. Alex was having some behavior issues and we wanted to co-parent in such a way that we would all benefit. We blamed ourselves. If everyone is doing the same thing, then how could we lose?

So we signed up and off we went. There was a single mom who was a widow. There was a couple with the grandma who was too lenient. There was a mom and dad and the new step-mom parenting 3 kids together. We were a motley crew, but our collective goal was to have healthy families no matter what those families looked like.

Toward the end of our class, we got the proverbial question, "Now why are you guys divorced?"

It was said often and we didn't always have an answer. We were both dating other people and when we had our party at the end, a round robin of games, he brought her. I'd met her and he had reassured me that she was wonderful with Alex. She seemed nice enough.

So we played and played and played games all night and the winners of each game kept ending up at the same table and those winners were consistently Joe and Lori. She was in another room, playing different games, working hard I'm sure to reunite with her boyfriend who was having a blast with his ex wife. 

Is this where I admit that I was wickedly enjoying her angst?

It was only a few short months later that we went to my sister in laws wedding. Both Alex and I were in the wedding and so was Joe. Odd to think we were all up on the alter together being altered together in that moment.

After the ceremony the family priest asked my mother in law what was going on between us during the wedding ceremony while Joe's girlfriend sat in the pew watching? She saw it and wondered too.

While I was aware of the moment, to me it was one more step toward healing. Sure I looked at him as if to ask, "What happened to us? How did we let this happen?" He looked back with the same question in his eyes. 

Sure we succumbed to the moment that everyone does at a wedding where we feel hopeful and loving toward everyone and excited about futures and were misty eyed doing that.

Sure we were in the wedding photo's but also careful not to stand near one another for fear of giving anyone, including ourselves hope.

The next day, the girlfriend flew out, and I was putting Alex down for a nap. Alex kept asking for his dad and Joe overheard so he came in and laid down on the other side of our baby, now almost 4. Alex was basking in the joint attention of his parents which hadn't happened before as far as he could remember. Then something happened.

Alex took my hand that he was holding and he took his dads hand that he was holding and he slowly and deliberately brought them up above his body and put them together. The adorable smile on his face when our hands met had us all giggling, albeit nervously. It wasn't long before we all fell asleep.

Love lies in many places, but it always lies where our children do. 

A few short days before, Joe had taken us to the wedding (2 hours away) and was now driving us home. On that ride home, he said, "Promise me that if we're still doing this five years from now you'll think about marrying me again."

What bravery men have. They are usually the one to muster the courage to ask a woman on a date. They are the ones who ask a woman to marry them. Even harder, they may be the person who asks a woman to marry him again. That's putting your heart on the line. That has to be many moments made up of sheer terror.

I said "No." I didn't shout it, I wasn't angry, I was resolved and not ready to possibly fail again. I reminded him that when we were married, I wanted to go to a counselor and he didn't. I said that if we were to try to do it again we couldn't do it without help. I knew he would not go to counseling with me, so I had a valid excuse and thought the conversation was over.

The next week he called me and asked me if I could meet him at Milt Klein's office. I asked him why and he told me Milt was a counselor and he had set up an appointment for us.

He called my bluff.

I cried and railed against possibilities I wasn't ready to consider again. He had a girlfriend after all and what if we tried and failed again, what about our family, but most importantly, what if we got Alex's hopes up? What if I got my own hopes up and we failed again? I did not feel ready for that. I was the don't-look-back-be-realistic-girl.

Joe is a salesman and a really good one. He told me he broke up with the girlfriend. He suggested we not tell anyone including Alex. He told me it could be our little secret and if it didn't work, no one but us would be the wiser. I wasn't sure my heart could take it but I foolishly, I thought, said yes.


It was then that I started sneaking around with my ex husband unbeknownst to anyone but him.








Monday, July 22, 2013

Fear of Change is the fear of loss

Today I read a quote that cut to the heart of what my life is about right now:

People don't fear change, they fear loss.    UCLA Staff and Counseling Center

I have to be honest in that I really am okay with change as a general rule however I resist it just like everyone else sometimes and this statement resonates with me as to why that is.

I have many changes coming my way in the ensuing months including my baby of the family going off to college, my job responsibilities changing with me giving up some things I love to do (to take on things that aren't necessarily my favorite), family changes that require a lot of attention on my part as a guardian for my disabled sister and oh....did I mention my baby girl going off to college?

 I'm not losing my baby but I am letting go of her daily presence in my physical life.  That hurts. That person that came from my body that slowly and gradually made her own way to the point that she can stand on her own  is now venturing out into the world.  While this is as it should be, it will still be hard to face that moment when it arrives. I'm ready, she's ready, but is the world ready for us without each other everyday?  We'll see.  I'm feeling the inevitable approach of that loss.

My work life is changing at the same time. Why these things don't just happen one event at a time, I'll never know.  Meeting the parents and families that we serve has been vital to me being able to love this organization and what we stand for at Giraffe Laugh.  Removing myself from that process a bit by giving up being a site director is a loss that I know I will alternately revel in and regret to some degree.  

Getting to know their little personalities and their stories from the get-go and having a relationship with each of them will be harder for me to connect the dots so I'm working on how to be sure I still get those stories and opportunities to fall in love with people.  To know someone's story is to love them.  I will miss knowing it first hand and that loss is scaring me.  

The change to allow different leadership to emerge while lightening my load does not scare me at all, so it WILL be a good trade-off, it's just harder to see on this side of the process.

My sister Sue who is disabled and was mistreated by the agency that was charged with "caring" for her is now being situated from her group home, to my mom's home to a home with my younger sister.  While it's all very exciting and a new beginning, again, it's a new beginning and going through the story of her abuse at their hands has been difficult at best.  I fear the loss of my younger sisters chance at a life different from what it will be now and with that goes some guilt.  She says it's a life she wants and that she will cherish so I have to trust that she is right.  

Not everyone wants what I think they should want.  Not everyone believes that I know best and that if they just relaxed and did what I told them they'd be better off!!  Not everyone fears the same losses that I fear.  

Learning to navigate new territory over the next few months will take some strength and while I will be grieving some of my losses I will immerse myself in gratefulness that I have people and things to "lose".  

I can't imagine my life without any of these current challenges.  These challenges really are gains, not losses and I'm learning to perceive my losses as actual gains that someday I will divest myself of with the same resistance and regret that I feel now....that's how I'll know I did it right.