T-M-I from T-I-M

Incredible Star Spangled Banner singing

This video taken which stunned tourists, brought me to tears.  A woman lets loose a version of our national anthem that was spectacular.

I think what I love most about the video is how it starts with the family encouraging her and shows the raw fears that she's having before.  As she begins to sing you see all of those fears slip away and she loses herself in the song and when the man shooting the video says "Watch God do it" and "Let the music speak".

And then to see the stunned gratitude of the people who were nearby and heard it is magnificent.  I'm putting this up with Marvin Gaye's in my top 5.  I'm feeling pretty full of national pride and love this wonderful woman's courage.

 

Infinite Love in 5 minutes on a Bus

Then there’s the moment riding the bus with my arm around my daughter sitting next to each other. Two minutes into the bus ride she leans her body into mine and melts into me.

It’s that feeling that goes to straight my innermost self that this young woman as she, at times, clumsily and awkwardly, at times confidently and fiercely (always beautifully) claims her independence, still trusts me with her life, her world. She knows that with no notice she can also claim my as close to as humanly possible unconditional love for her. She desires to be reminded that I’m a core part of her foundation and to the best of my ability I will always be there for her.

We spent the next 5 minutes (both with one headphone in listening to our own music sort of) talking about sports and trying something new. It was about as every day stuff as it comes to parenting but the deep feeling surrounding us was undeniable.

It’s the feeling of loving and being loved for exactly who we both are (including both being dressed like we are BOTH going to high school! Although based on our outfits her school would be more upscale than mine would be….).

Shortly before we left the house I said to her that with regards to the struggle we were discussing, “Never forget, I believe in you. I know you’ll have to work hard and things will reveal themselves one day at a time, but I always believe in you.”

I share this only because my logical mind will try to look for a reason why it happened this morning. And who knows, maybe that was part of it. But a deeper part of me knows that that final 5 minutes of the bus ride sealed by a kiss on the head from Dad is an expression of a real relationship full of ups and downs in the last 14 years. It’s a relationship that no matter how tough it gets will never change….EVER. She will ALWAYS be my daughter.

Maybe that simple sentiment shared was just a reminder of how I always feel (no matter HOW confused I get from time to time).

I felt tremendous waves of gratitude as she got off to go to school that I’m a Dad, with an amazing daughter. I’m publicly putting words to it today in an effort to put yet another stake in the ground to say to myself “When things get most confusing and frustrating….remember this moment!” as so many of my dearest and closest friends, many (but not all) of whom are parents, must rely on.  

The, sort of, vexing part of it is we just never know when this type of expression from our children or loved ones is going to happen. And rarely does it seem to happen when I want it! And while I have a million other things going on in my life, problems real or fancied (seemingly more of the latter…) for those 5 minutes nothing else in the world existed or mattered than that.

I'm in tears, she'll have a blast

This morning I dropped my daughter off at her camp.  We said goodbye a little differently.  You see she’s going away and I won’t see her for over 2 weeks.  She’s going on a trip with a friend and then another trip with her mom.  She’s going to have a blast on both trips.  That’s not stopping my tears this morning.

Today instead of the lean over in the car hug and kiss we got out of the car.  I told her I wanted a “big hug”.  It turned into a warm and loving embrace that lasted quite a while.  After that I took her beautiful 13 year old face in my hand, looked her right in the eyes and told her how much I loved her, that I’ll miss her and told her to have a blast on her trips.

It all sounds like a great goodbye, but I’m still in tears.  Recently, we had an experience that drew us closer together than we ever have been.  She poignantly shared the thoughts and feelings and I listened carefully giving each of those thoughts the kind of attention and importance every one of them deserved. 

It’s not about me saying that’s not a big deal or you’ll get through it, buck up.  Rather we talked about how each of those things feel and how confusing it can all be.

It’s no secret I love my daughter.  And in addition to being the greatest teacher of my life, the most important person on the planet to me and the person I pour my heart into unabashedly she’s also a great companion.  We laugh so much at the goofiest things.  Self-deprecation, confusing oddities, human behavior, my driving nuttiness and much more is all fair game when we spend time together. 

So I mourn it when she’s gone and goddamnit I'm not going to apologize for it.  I realize that in the grand scheme of things 2 ½ weeks is not that long.  But how many of us talk about how it all goes to fast?

I also realize that perhaps I should put more of my energy into the smile in my heart that I know she’ll have a great time while she’s gone.  And shoot right after she gets back I get a full week with her and my mom which is always a gas. 

That’s not working right now.  And I’m not going to prematurely pull myself out of this feeling because I feel like it’s “too self-centered”.  In my life it isn’t that I feel too much it’s that I don’t’ fully give attention to exactly what I am feeling (and I’m a pretty sensitive dude).

No, it’s not working right now, so for now I’m going to let the tears flow until they stop when they are meant to stop.

John Steinbeck on Love

A friend shared this amazing letter John Steinbeck wrote to his son about love.  First as a father to read the heartfelt devotion he has for sharing with his son was deeply moving.  And he was sharing from a position of his own experience which is even more powerful.

The thing that really stuck with me most is how someone's love makes me feel.  Sometimes I doubt myself.  Like maybe it's the fact that I don't know how to receive love or maybe I just feel unworthy. 

But he mentions the idea of the first kind of love (selfish and grasping) that makes one feel "small and weak".  I don't know if I can confidently say that this type of love isn't love but I can say how it makes me feel (which he sort of implies is the domain of "girls" which I don't completely agree with!).  If someone's love doesn't feel right it's not necessarily about me. 

The second kind of love that recognizes others as "unique and valuable" does exactly what he says (including releasing wisdom that I never knew I had).  I feel it almost every time I'm with my daughter.

My heart broke free when he mentions that my unreturned love doesn't make my love any less valuable.  Not only will I not say it at times, I won't even explore its possibility.

My heart which I give so freely to friends and my daughter still has some walls around it still with women in particular, I'm human.  However the letter broke them down a little more and that's what it's all about.

On Love

The deepest feeling of love is the love that is the hardest to describe.  It’s the kind that you know you feel different whether it’s in someone or something’s presence.  I’m human, the kind of love I give has conscious and unconscious strings attached often.  And when I have the moment where I give the love that type of love it’s effortless.

I get that deep feeling most often with my daughter.  That being said, there are still elements of wanting in that love at times.  I’m not proud of that but it’s the truth.  When I want something for her (particularly when she doesn’t want it) it’s a kind of love that strains. 

Yes I get it, there are some of my friends who will call me on it saying “Well Tim, then that’s not love”.  I disagree.  It’s just a love that’s human and imperfect, which is as close to perfect as I can get on a regular basis. 

Not that long ago I overtly hated myself.  That’s changed through my actions (my thoughts can still be a beast).  And a bit more recently I have roundly rejected the idea that someone can love me before they “really” know me.  I thought wait until they get to the darkest of darkness in me, they will run.

Now I feel like I want to lay down my defenses and just let people love me.  And I can give them my best version of love back.  I may as well take some risks.  Every once in a while I will get that hard to describe feeling. 

It’s very similar to when I used to golf.  I trudged through 18 holes over 5 hours with the competitive despair that only hack golfers like me understand.  And then once a round I would strike the ball perfectly and it would go exactly where I want it to.  The birds stopped chirping, the deer stopped grazing and the squirrels stopped doing whatever squirrels do to admire the beauty! 

That’s what keeps me coming back.  That indescribable feeling of giving and receiving of what we best describe as love is like the one great golf shot over 18 holes.  Hmmm, maybe it’s not that hard to describe after all. 

Fore!

The downside of bonding

I had a deeply connected weekend with my daughter.  We spent 8 total hours together in a car.  I spent most of the weekend watching her play volleyball, something she loves doing and I love watching her do it. 

We had conversations ranging from boys to dealing with adversity to who she relates to more Anna or Elsa (Elsa by the way) to competiveness and much more.  When she was at her most tender and vulnerable she went from crying in my arms to sitting by herself because she wanted to be alone which I respected.

We listened to Do You Want to Build a Snowman and Bye, Bye, Bye and Fancy more times than I care to mention.  We shared mini-cinnamon buns from Taco Bell (like knee-buckling awesome!!) and In-n-Out and even made a trip to Olive Garden (OG BABY!!!!). 

There were multiple times this weekend where I ached for time to just stop. 

And then, Monday night, I dropped her off at her Mom’s house and that was that.  I woke up the next day and she wasn’t with me.  It’s heart breaking. 

I spent plenty of time on Tuesday in tears.  It’s so fucking hard to be a divorced dad at times.  There’s zero question that it’s the right thing and zero question that it has real implications. 

There's something so poignant about having such a deep bonding experience and poof she's gone.  I get that it means a ton to her that we did connect and it's deeply in her heart now.  And my pain will turn into gratitude when the time is right. 

In the meantime it hurts.

13 isn't just a number

Tomorrow Zoe turns 13.  Being 45, I’m entering the demographic that often says “age is just a number”.  13 is not just a number for me. 

It’s a poignant reminder of how time flies.  She’s 5 feet 7 inches, comparatively physically mature and emotionally complex. 

I look in her eyes and I still see the baby with complete trust as I carried her from adventure to adventure, curled up in my warm arms.  I can still feel the girl who jumped into my arms when something scared her knowing that I would protect her.  I still reach for the girl who I tickled into giggle fits that had us both laughing to tears.

I am learning how to love who she is today.  It’s a continuous game with ever changing rules that I’m not always able to keep up with either because I don’t know how or I don’t want to.  Thankfully I’ve caught up most every time.

However, I’m in conflict.  I have a deep knowing that I will always be the #1 man in her life in one regard.  There are few if any women in my life who don’t want the love of her Dad more than anyone else. 

My experience is the women who know they have it seem to love more freely and boldly.   When I talk about my love for Zoe with them there’s a grateful recognition of something they have. 

They aren’t “broken” if they don’t have it or even capable of free and bold love.  However when I talk about my love for Zoe their aching desire for that love is unmistakable.

I know as a teenager I’m not her “go to” and I bet I’m her “return to” because she knows it’s always there.  She’s going to do what teenagers do.  And yes, I will probably be a hypocrite at times with her given my colorful teenage years or worse my later years. That scares me.

I have to trust that like God has my back in my life, God’s also got hers, and so do I.  I have her back no matter what. 

Sit down with me for 2 straight days to describe to you how deeply and fiercely I love her and it would fall short.  It falls short because my love for her finds places that I can’t consciously touch.

And as she moves into the teenage years I know that I will keep finding new depths and ferocity.  Today, however, I am grieving a bit for the passage into the teens and today 13 doesn’t feel like just a number.

My dear friend Jerry Jacob

This morning I learned that my friend Jerry died.  Jerry is one of my many friends who we affectionately refer to as an "old-timer" in the group I'm involved in.  I first attended a gathering of about 15-20 men who were mostly old-timers and he welcomed me in a way that made me feel like I fit right in.

I spent the next 4 or 5 months trying to prove (and tell everyone) that I didn't.  One thing that confused me is that since the group was mostly older men it had lost several of its regular attendees over time and they talked about them on a somewhat regular basis. 

I fought that.  I'm new and I've never met this person, why don't we just focus on where and who we are now?  My friend Jerry smiled and let me be the rascal that I was being.  Always welcoming me back with a warmth that was, at times, downright confusing.

I broke bread with him on several occasions.  He was there on the other side of the phone talking me through rough spots.  He was one of those people in our lives who told me everything would be ok and I really believed it when he said it to me.

Then he got sick and he was in the hospital for quite a while.  And I kept saying to myself, I'll go next week.  Now it's too late.  You see, both Jerry and I share this disease that is founded on selfishness.  He showed me how to treat this disease daily.  This morning I've been reflecting on the choices I made instead of visiting him and it sickens me.

If he were still with us, I would tell him "I was wrong to be so self centered and insensitive".  And the thing that is crushing me this morning is I know he would tell me it's ok and give me a huge hug. 

That's who Jerry was.  And it's not totally that "I've" lost Jerry it's that "we've" lost him.  Because he won't be there to extend his loving embrace to another man or woman like me.

I'm so fucking pissed that it takes death for me to "get perspective".  I hear it all the time when there are tragic events.  It just feels so wrong that I'm taking the loss of this amazing man to teach me things he was trying to teach me for the blessed time I knew him.

I understand my group members better now, because I now know how it feels.  But it's a Catch fucking 22, Jerry had to die for me to get all of this.  It's too painful of a price to pay.

This hurts so bad.  I loved Jerry Jacobs.  I know everything's going to be ok, just like you always said to me Jerry, I really believe you. 

And I'm going to talk about you, long after you left us last night.  And a new man may not get why I'm talking about you and I'll will smile compassionately.  But in a very meaningful way you will never leave me because you filled my heart in an everlasting way. 

I love you Jerry Jacobs.

Musings on a 25 year high school reunion

A few weeks ago I attended my 25 year high school reunion in South Bend.  I hadn't seen most of the people since the 10 year and some since I graduated.  Going into it there were a handful of people I really wanted to connect with. 

Here are a few random observations from the event:

• I was reminded, quite beautifully, that there are a few people who, though I may not have talked to them in years, genuinely care about me.  There's a lot to the fact that I don't want anything from them professionally, no networking or any of that other stuff.  Inside of that weekend, I reconnected with what it feels like to care for someone for no other reason than I feel like I know this core truth about them that is awfully hard to hide over the course of four years of high school.  I don't know if I would call it love but it's a pretty endearing affection.
• I had a great high school experience with a relatively normal family life.  We had our share of probs, but I looked forward to going home to my family each day.  It was really revealing when one person in particular told me about how difficult and despairing the high school experience was. 
• Some parts of all of us haven't changed and thank God for that.  In high school, I was great at making people laugh, I still am.  When asked how I've changed from high school, I actually started with how I haven't and this is one of my personality I cherish most.  I think the core things that most of us had in high school are still there, guiding us in some way.  The difference amongst us seemed to be the perspective or point of view on the experiences we've had since then.
• It was interesting to see the hard partiers.  I have zero against them.  It was fascinating to see the ones that seemed to just be blowing off steam as well as the others who seem to be still living la vida not so loca and not so fun.  Having led that life in a really dark way, I'm pretty good at spotting the difference, it's a bit sad to see when I see the signs that someone is also living that life.
• Related to that, it was awesome to connect with people who had problems in their family similar to problems I've faced.  I felt in some way I was a small help to them in understanding what is at a minimum perplexing and more likely divisive and destructive.
• While our new high school is really cool looking, all modern and clean it's not St. Joe.  Call me a curmudgeon, that will never change for me.  On the upside, we were the Indians when I went there and we still are.  Unnecessary PC has not found its way into the St. Joe athletics program.
• I've only kept in touch on a somewhat regular basis, with one person since high school.  There were lots of promises to keep in touch at the party.  While it would be great if that would happen the odds aren't very high.  I can't tell you exactly why, as I felt really close to a number of them, but we each have our lives.  Being on the west coast may have something to do with it too.  Many of them keep in touch with each other and that's awesome.  But only one man has been through the wringer with me and he also happens to be the one guy I've spoken to since the reunion (yes I know 2 way street!!).
• I didn't much care about what people were doing, I cared more about what they've become.  I experienced a few connections where I was almost overwhelmed by their huge hearts, real salt of the earth people.  I think part of that may have come from the ease that I felt about not really caring what others thought of what I did or even who I am because I'm more often than not comfortable in my own skin.  And several of my high school friends have become amazing men and women.
• While I will almost certainly never move back, I can finally admit that South Bend is a pretty cool place.  Yes, diversity is defined as white people and tanned white people.  Yes, other than ND football there is almost nothing to do.  But I'll be damned if the people who live there aren't some of the finest people you'll find.  They are so genuine it's almost not believable.  There's a feeling I get when I experience just walking around a town like South Bend and it's not at all the feeling I get when I walk around San Francisco, a city which I love.

I will remember quite a bit about the reunion and the experience.  Ironically, the thing I will remember most about that weekend was an amazing conversation that I had with my niece that had nothing to do with the reunion.  It was tender and loving, the kind of thing that absolutely reminds me of the power of family.  Likewise, I was reminded of the power of relationships with a long lasting and deep foundation.

I will probably never see lots of my high school peeps again.  And, candidly, I'm conflicted about that.   I honestly don't really know how to pick up the relationship again.  But if the only thing I get out of that reunion was 2 days of feeling the warmth and insight of some of the connections I felt, it was more than worth it to go.

Does Faith = Intimacy?

A few weeks ago my mom came to visit me and it was transformative.  I experienced my mother in a brand new way.  We talked about things with an honesty that had little reference for me.

Additionally, she has opinions that I don't completely agree with.  Historically, I've judged them or at minimum got annoyed at them.  This time I just let her be and accepted her for who she is.

I experienced a level of intimacy that's unfamiliar.  It felt like a piece of my heart was lit that either has been long forgotten or never had been used.

It got me thinking about my relationship with my own version of god. I ascribe certain attributes to my god (and by the way, I'm not suggesting you do the same or believe in the god I do or even that you should believe in god). 

My version of god is a perfect power.  So, the question becomes:  How do I become intimate with a power like that?

I learned that a great path to deep connection is embracing the fact that we're all human and connecting through that.  We share pain, problems, happiness, uncertainty, etc. and we're there for each other.

But how do I become intimate with something that's perfect?  A few friends suggested the answer may be faith.

Candidly, I don't really understand what they mean, but I did nod my head in agreement (hiyo!).  But I suppose some level of faith that my god is working in my life does create a relationship.

I certainly can't lie to my god because it knows everything about me.

It's a bit confusing.  But this is clear, if I can bring the experience I had with my Mom into my relationship with god, therein lies an infinite reward.