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Sunday, July 31, 2011

Hall of Fame pt. 2

Prelude:  I wanted to write this post first, but realized when I started that I had to go back to the original and give proper context by writing Hall of Fame pt. 1 first.  This post would be more meaningful as a result.....

Part 1 was all about looking through the eyes of the "son" about the "father".  Part 2 is now reversed.  The "son" has now grown up and is now the "father" having an experience with his "son". In other unnecessary words, this is told through the eyes of the "son-who-is-now-the-father".  (I know you didn't need all that, but now it sounds like a cool native American name huh?)

Story:  On a more serious note....A few months ago, I found myself with my head in my hands and my heart aching as a result of a poorly orchestrated "conversation" with my oldest son.  There are other words for that kind of exchange:  argument, confrontation, knock-down-drag-out, etc.... in the end it doesn't matter what it was labeled, the only proper label for it was...."Horrible"

I had violated my own rules of not getting "loud", not bringing up the "past" and by not getting all the details first before exploding.

It is difficult to come to terms with the truth about you being the one who loses trust with a loved one.  I had already gone through the normal but unhelpful process of trying to justify every position and comment I had made.  I was older, knew more and therefore was "right" by these and the virtue of being the "Father".

As my head lowered with each successive "replay" I came to the realization that all my "expertise" and "experience" weren't worth a hill of beans.  In fact, it was if they didn't matter at all.  The only thing that had mattered was the slowly creeping-in sensation that maybe somehow I was "wrong".  No matter how much I pushed the idea away, it would not back down.  It made itself known and silently presented itself for what it was.....Truth!   

Sidenote:  Isn't Truth the ultimate "face job"?  Revenge pretends to be the one that owns the tagline "Hah, right back at you Jerk"  but, I think not.  Truth owns it outright.  It doesn't have to explain itself, it doesn't justify itself.... it doesn't have to. It just "IS".  I have come to love Truth more in my life as I make more mistakes and realize I fall short.  Truth pierces like no other and it will not be denied.  We can pretend to not "see" it, which we all do, but at the end of the day, it will be seen by all.

The time came many hours later, sitting on the couch in the dark, when my heart finally won over my head, and I let truth in to teach me yet again.  The feelings of remorse came, the burn of tears through pained eyes and the right kind of authentic hurt was felt.

It was during the latter part of this stage when my youngest son, Braden came over, through the dark and sat down next to me.  He then said: "How are you doing?"  I said: "Not great".. He then did something he has never done before or since...... he began to simply ask questions about work, what was going on there, he remembered small things that he shouldn't have even known about.  He continued with just a few of these questions that took me so off guard, yet I knew that they were heartfelt and not contrived just to "change the subject" if you know what I mean.  I was so startled by his maturity and willingness to go where he normally never went.  It completely diffused the heavy feelings I was having and it "broke the bad juju" spell I was under.  He was so quiet, unassuming and yet he knew that was what he needed to do to help Dad.  He somehow knew down deep that he couldn't do many things, but he could just innocently reach out and ask a few sincere questions.  

The affect was immediate and powerful.  I was able to process from that point quickly and then proceeded to make amends with my oldest son soon after.  But what lingered from this experience was what Braden did....not all the stuff in between, but that single, simple well intentioned act of Love he rendered in my behalf.  Yes, one might say that my heart transitioned from feeling "bad" to "hurting good".  You saved me that day.

Braden, you jumped into my Hall of Fame in that instant and it made all the difference in the world.  Sounds strangely "familiar".......like an echo of 25 years ago.

So, that is all, that is it. One simple story, one of many arguments before and since, yet that one will always stand out to me.

Postlude:  I have since thought a lot about the notion of being "Saved".   In a very real way, Braden "saved" me from that situation.  I have been saved by my wife and a few others during the course of my life.  In my mind they are all simply examples of the ultimate Savior, Jesus Christ.  The truth is, He already did it for me...in fact he did it for all of us.  He "saved" us all in every way.  If He were here today, he would be doing the work that Braden did for me. In His wisdom he allows each one of us to be angels to one another by exemplifying His eternal mercy and love through small simple acts of love.  I have a profound feeling of honor and respect for Braden.  Thank you son, for your example.......  I hope I can return the favor one day.


Sunday, June 26, 2011

My Theme Song



My life is tethered to a rolling stone,


my dreams are anchored in the wind.



I come from here, I come from there,


in truth I come from everywhere.


My tongue does not have a mother,

my language is an open mind.


Before I learned how to walk,

I already knew how to fly.

Comfort for me is constant motion

 continent to continent....


 .....ocean to ocean


This is the beginning of knowing me

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Hall of Fame pt. 1





Prelude:  It was the summer of '86.  I had just returned home from serving in Portugal for 2 years as a volunteer missionary.  I was on top of the world.  I had just experienced the best 2 years of my life as I knew it then.  I was with my parents in Northern VA and had turned my thoughts to work in prep to return for fall semester at BYU. I had landed a midnight to 6am job driving a large van to distribute newspapers to about 30 routes for the Washington Post.  I would try and get a couple of hours of sleep before leaving then finish up with a few more on the flipside before going to a second job by 10am.


Story: My dad had decided to for some unknown mysterious reason, to take upon himself a rather "large" paper route.  When I say "large" I mean "humongous"!!  He did it himself with help of my younger brother JJ.  Going to Mom for answers didn't work as she was already banging her head against the wall wondering what on earth my Dad was thinking. Nevertheless, while we were all scratching our heads, Dad was busy designing the absolutely most organized and well orchestrated paper route man has seen.  He did maps on his computer, he had a color coding system that the CIA would be envious of. He was very disciplined and he ran that thing like a well oiled machine. If there were an Oscar for Paper Routes....well...nuff said!  


Sometimes, when he wasn't careful, and you were in the right position and the right time, you could catch a twinkle in his eye and and a little grin that said something like.. "he he... I am the master of my universe..." minus the stereo typical dramatic evil Draculan laugh that one would expect.....


Now, it didn't matter if it was rain or shine or even  "school closing" snow,  he never missed a day and almost never missed a paper. He did this for years.  Every Saturday evening was spent in our living room with a pile of Sunday inserts....which we all rolled and rubber banded while we watched "Star Search"..... (Ok, so there was no Idol then.... k?)  Nothing was funner than getting up super early on Sunday and load up the papers....each one seriously felt like a block of cement.  Then running around delivering those chunks of bricks...it look twice as long and we had to finish quickly in time to go to our next favorite thing on Sunday......right....Church!  Oh Yeah!! and there was much rejoicing throughout the land....


But once I had taken this nightime job, I had to catch more sleep each morning when I got home in order to be halfway ready for my 2nd job.  So, for several months he and JJ were on their own....(except for those bloody Sundays.)     


Then came my last day.... the day I would be returning to school and leaving home yet one more time.  I remember the day so well... I finished my night route, got home and was on my way into the house when something said to my mind "Go find Dad...!"  I immediately decided to follow the voice....I ran the route until I found him.... I didn't have to go too far and when he saw me coming he shouted out "Hey! great to see you..."  I said "Put me to work".  We finished the route in record time, the day progressed and off I went to BYU.


Fast Forward:  Later.... I think it would have been months later... I received one of Dad's letters.  I can hardly talk about Dad's letters without feeling a lump in my throat.... .  I had come to rely upon them much in my life.  No one wrote letters like Dad.  I opened the letter and then read about that last day I left for BYU many months ago.  


He said that he was already not looking forward to my leaving that day, and knowing he wouldn't see me before I left, when I came bounding down the sidewalk in the darkness to find him and help, he said in that moment I "jumped" into his personal "Hall of Fame".  He proceeded to tell me how special that small moment was for him.  It was totally unexpected.


I had to stop and rewind and play the "tape" again in my mind.  My heart got involved this time.  I thought it was nothing....more fun than very important.  He saw it quite differently. He drew me into the feelings that Fathers have, a context that I couldn't quite understand at the time,  but believed him.  


He went on to say for the first of many times how much I made him "Hurt Good".  This has become a very special term that he and I have traded back and forth since that time.  I have come to know how special that feeling is.


That was it, nothing more; simple really when I think of it, but so profound and it has left its permanent mark on my heart.  


Postlude:  I have since thought about my personal "Hall of Fame".... Who is in there?  Who do I let in?  What do they have to do?  Do I need to have one?  I have thought, and felt about it a lot since then.  I have learned there is a door, there is criteria, but I have never written it down.  In fact, I am not even sure I could tell you.... but I can say that my heart absolutely knows what the entrance criteria is.  I never know when it will happen, but when it does, it is as clear as a whistle through a silent sky.  Do you have one?  "Hurts Good" works for me.

So, I have stopped scratching my head about Dad's paper route.  That letter put that question to bed. I secretly smile to myself in a more knowing way as I think about the many times we spent working together, accomplishing something hard - together.  My hat's off to you Dad...You were always way smarter than me  Thanks for taking that paper route in order to teach me a life lesson about "hurting good" It has made all the difference.  

If you were here today......

If you were here today..... 

Here is what you wouldn't do first.....

  • Clean the kitchen
  • Sweep the floor
  • Cast a glancing eye at the dust here and there
  • Roll your eyes at the McDonald's bag on the counter
These never were your strengths and thank Heaven they weren't, even though you spent a lifetime worrying over them.  I am glad they really didn't matter in the end.....

Here is what you would do instead: 


  1. You would be anxious to hear the kids sing and dance, (only you would be able to get them to do it too!) 
  2. You wouldn't be able to restrain the urge to teach them something along the way as well, some dance move, or encouragement for something artistic. 
  3. You would "ooh" and "ahh" no matter what they did and you would make them feel like it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
  4. You would tell them the stories of how you would dance as a little girl with your sisters for the troops during WWII and how the soldiers would throw pennies on the stage which you loved!
  5. You would tell them to smile and shine all the time
  6. You would squeeze every detail of worth out of each moment
  7. You wouldn't dare leave without letting each know of their infiinte worth and potential and how the Lord would bless them.
  8. You would make each one of them feel so unique and special.
  9. You would give them each a breathless tight hug, as if it would be your last....  

They would feel your excitement and enthusiasm for true and free expression....  They would start practicing the minute you left for the next visit.

As I play the film in my mind's eye, it is so clear and vivid that it is as if you really were here.  I know the script, I can hear the dialogue, I know all the camera angles, yes...even when to zoom in on a particular moment. Predictable plot?  Oh yes!, but always special. I know the beginning, middle and end.... oh, the ends were so hard...the longing looks, the hugs that didn't need to be so tight, but were anyway.  Your film is perfect, always re-watchable, always in technicolor, always ending with a lump in the throat.

Keep dancing Mom, never stop and thank you for that lasting legacy....... abraco,

Happy Mothers Day 
  








Saturday, February 26, 2011

What Are Words

"What Are Words"
Anywhere you are, I am near
Anywhere you go, I'll be there
Anytime you whisper my name, you'll see
How every single promise I keep
Cuz what kind of guy would I be
If I was to leave when you need me most

What are words
If you really don't mean them
When you say them
What are words
If they're only for good times
Then they don't
When it's love
Yeah, you say them out loud
Those words, They never go away
They live on, even when we're gone

And I know an angel was sent just for me
And I know I'm meant to be where I am
And I'm gonna be
Standing right beside her tonight
And I'm gonna be by your side
I would never leave when she needs me most

What are words
If you really don't mean them
When you say them
What are words
If they're only for good times
Then they don't
When it's love
Yeah, you say them out loud
Those words, They never go away
They live on, even when we're gone

Anywhere you are, I am near
Anywhere you go, I'll be there
And I'm gonna be here forever more
Every single promise I keep
Cuz what kind of guy would I be
If I was to leave when you need me most

I'm forever keeping my angel close

Although a fairly avid fan of American Idol, I had only caught snipits here and there this season and had somehow missed the whole Chris Medina story. It has become clear to me now that I wasn't supposed to...

I sat down this morning at my laptop with the intent of plowing into some "homework" that I was behind on for work. Instead of pulling up a work file, I went to right to Yahoo.com for some reason and noticed a little vid clip about Chris Medina not making the top 24. The story says that Chris went into the studio a day or so after his elimination to record a song called "What Are Words." A well known producer wrote the song after being inspired by his story and asked Chris to record it.


My curiosity was piqued...So I clicked on the video clip.

.....I wasn't prepared for the emotion I found rising up into my chest......I liked Chris's voice, the melody was simple, but full of emotion and the words rang in my ears. They were a perfect fit for his own story...... But what really got to me was Chris himself: his example of deep devotion, commitment and loyalty to a now brain damaged; disabled fiancee who once was a beautiful fully functioning woman.

I don't know Chris, never will, but I don't need to..... I know enough about him to cause myself to ask some important questions that I need answers to:

"Am I that loyal?" "Do I honor my friends and loved ones by keeping my promises?" "Is my back and heart strong enough to do what Chris is doing if needed, regardless of any circumstance?"

He is the kind of example that helps all of us who are married or commited to remember a few key words and phrases of things we promised each other once upon a time....did we really mean these words we said?


I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness
and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. I, ____, take you, ____, to have and to h
old, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part...





These may not be everyone's words, but there is enough here to make anyone stop and think regardless of what you may have actually said to each other at your wedding/event.
What I found myself thinking was how much these words apply to friends as well. I found myself replacing the blanks above with specific names........then reading it again in that context hopefully wishing that at the end that I felt good about where I stood.

Honestly, with more names than I wanted to, I find myself lacking..... I have somehow rationalized and justified my own pride for dismissing these particular few, deciding to not be part of their lives, or at least in a much more diminished way.... Intentionally placing distance between them and me and somehow feeling smug and "right" about it.....

...... At the end of the day, I am wrong.....

Do the reasons I come up with really matter? Are my hurt feelings enought to sever relationships with people that I have or still actually love? Who cares if someone threw me under the proverbial bus? Maybe they embarassed me in a way that seemed so unforgiveable at the time. I can think of a hundred reasons why I could be "right" and justified in not being loyal, but as I think and "feel" through it, I can't escape the sense that I am wrong. My arguments don't hold water after all.

Surely, I am one who has and continues to have the kind of friends and loved ones that have never given up on me, no matter what, and there have been very good reasons why they shouldn't have done so...

So, my friends, should we join hands and ask ourselves what Chris is asking us to do? See if our Words really do matter that we say to each other? I feel a sense of recommitment and a desire to let bygones be bygones....water under the bridge as they say. I hope you do too....


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQY4dIxY1H4&feature=feedf


"Cuz what kind of guy would I be..... if I was to leave when you need me most?"




Thursday, February 3, 2011

In Memoriam: Vivi Guimaraes


(Today) one of Heaven's daughters was called home..... she was a bright star in our small but special global village of EABers. We were better because she was part of us......
On paper she was Viveka. As for me and everyone else I knew, she was simply..... "Vivi"
I have no special claim on her, she wasn't my best friend, I did not spend significant time with her, I cannot say I was close to her. In fact, she was 2 grades older, which in high school is like 2 decades, and I could probably count on 2 hands the number of times she conversed with me directly......
So I ask myself.......what is it then? Why do I feel what I feel? Where does the dull ache in my head come from? The muddled thoughts and heavy heart? Why does it feel so especially personal? At the end of the day, I cannot say, but I think it was because she was part of something I belong to. Her leaving takes a little part of me with her because we are all still part of the EAB family despite the fact we were a tiny little high school in the middle of nowhere. We are bonded by our collective experience.
As I reflect back on my memories I can recall some things that did make my knowing her special.......What I remember most was what I saw as an interested observer.....I watched her deliver hundreds of individual "Hi's", "Hello's", "Oi's" and "Tchau's" that collectively won me over. She wore cheerful like a favorite pair of jeans, comfortable and natural..., it became her own "designer brand of fashion". She was a beautiful person on the inside and out. She had the ability to attract many.....you would want to be where she was and be part of what she was conversing about. There was a freshness about her that made things especially nice.

What was very special about Vivi was her smile...... Her smile could melt Alaska. Getting a direct "hit" smile from Vivi was a special treat. How generous she was with that gift. She made it her constant companion and everyone close by benefited and felt its radiance. She didn't play favorites with it..... rather she was willing to share it with the whole world freely, without hope or expectation of something in return...... My sense is that if you wanted to know Vivi, you just needed to feel a few of her smiles. I am fortunate I did.

She was the kind of person that without meaning to, could instantly make any Jr High School kid want to be a "man" and make any man want to be an "9th Grader" all over again.......Flirtacious....but never fake.
Above all else, she loved and had a big heart........ If there were one message I could leave with her today, it would be to let her know that she made an everlasting ripple in the EAB experience. We loved her as she was, despite what the world threw her way. Her trials didn't harden her heart, rather they opened it even further. Thank you Vivi for your life, your bright spirit, your acceptance, what you taught us all about love and friendship......You will be missed.
Yes....On paper she was "Viveka" . As for me..... she will always be "Vivi" and her smile filled the whole world.....
Abraco