Fully Embraced Adulting

"I'm going to host two parties while you're gone," said Beatrice.

It was funny, because it wasn't true. And we were comforted by that. Comforted because we'd come to the crossroads of whether it was time we could leave our teens at home alone for a night or two while Mom and Dad took a trip without them. 

Every time now when we leave them home alone I joke with them and say, "No parties." 

Both Beatrice and Bryce would laugh and say they would. But we knew they wouldn't. Unlike us when we were that age. Don't get me started. We definitely had parties. Threw a rager or two as the kids used to say. Our kids just aren't interested in that kind of social scene. I feel like fewer kids are. In fact, fewer are according to research. And fewer are sexually active as teens, too -- there's been a 54% drop since 1991. 

Goodness, were we just bored with too much alone time on our hands without adults around when my wife Amy and I were teens? Yep, we were. I mean, compared to us, we're glad our kids are good kids, without any unhealthy experimentation that we know of, and we do talk with our kids freely about most coming-of-age topics. Well, Mom does more than me because, although I do get in on the conversations when I'm not the grumpy "no" Dad. 

Since the pandemic, mental and physical health has been a big family priority for us all. Amy stopped drinking alcohol two and a half years ago, and although I still drink at most a few nights a week, it's a lot less than we did during COVID (I think many parents with school-age kids back then did as well -- call it the coping libations). 

Amy and I exercise regularly and encourage our kids to do the same. Both Beatrice and Bryce also self-regulate their device usage, especially Beatrice. They also have their friends they hang out sometimes, friends who also don't engage in risky behavior that we're aware of (like ours did back in the day).

That's why we're comfortable leaving them at home for a night or two now. They have our local friends to call in case of an emergency. And Beatrice, being the oldest, has fully embraced adulting, making sure her sibling Bryce is taken care of, our pets are taken care of, and the house is taken care of, all while taking care of herself, and now working all day five days a week at her summer camp job (this last trip we took was during two days that Bea had to work). Bryce helps and does their part as well, but Beatrice is still the responsible elder in charge while we're away.

Which is why when Beatrice said to us, "I'm going to host two parties while you're gone," we knew she was teasing us. Also, no teen who was really going to party it up ever says "I'm going to host two parties". Like ever. Unless it's a Tupperware party, and I don't think that's a thing anymore anyway. 

Schadenfreude Be Damned

I'm so done with schadenfreude, when people experience pleasure from other people's misfortune. I really am. Too many people spend too much time grounded in outrage, scarcity, and judgment, all of which allow unhappiness, loneliness, and hate to thrive. I know, I've had my share. That includes disparaging those with more money, popular entertainers, business and government leaders, those who have done us wrong in some way, and others of similar ilk. It's usually about people with power, in power, or holding power over us somehow.

And when we act that way, our children see it. Feel it. Model it. Our kids have called us out more than once about judging others while celebrating their misfortune. As parents, spouses, and friends, Amy and I have worked on this for many years; it's always a work in progress. It's also a time suck and a soul suck to live in negativity. Thankfully we've come to realize how much more energy it takes to judge and celebrate misfortune than to accept, empathize, and love -- and to let go of that which does not serve us. 

Back to the kids, though. Our children model who we are and what we do and say. And yes, there are life lessons, beliefs, morals, and more that we want our children to absorb and apply to their own lives that are never without their own bias. This becomes more evident when they are teenagers, which ours are now. We've loved watching them grow up and helping them grapple with this thing we call life. We're grateful that they reject our schadenfreude but remind them to do the same with their own. 

This doesn't mean we don't stand up, speak out, and push back on injustice and/or people we feel jeopardize our family's wellbeing and safety. Because we do. But we don't long for and celebrate the demise of those things and people we push back on. We want positive change, yes, but not to destroy that which we want to change for our betterment and the betterment of others. Just positive change, and again, through eyes of acceptance, empathy, gratitude, and love.

And it all starts at home. Recently, our family all had things about each other that bothered each other -- Bryce and Beatrice making each other feel bad about things they shouldn't have, Mom getting really mad about something she shouldn't have (and usually doesn't), and grumpy Dad getting super fussy about things he shouldn't have (and usually does). So, we spent time at dinner talking about these things, each of us sharing how we feel without judgment, really listening and hearing each other. That's no easy trick for any family with teens, including a family like ours that does work on our communication skills. 

That's why we practice communication and gratitude in our house. There's always something to be grateful for. Each other, for example. Even when we don't get along. Especially when we don't get along, because it reminds us of why acceptance, empathy, forgiveness, gratitude, and love are so important. This also applies to everything and everyone else in our lives, which is always the tricky part. Letting judgment go is grand. Schadenfreude be damned. Winston agrees (this time at least).

A Supernova Smile

"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living." –F. Scott Fitzgerald 

It's been nearly 13 years since both my parents passed. My dad first followed by my mom four months later. My sister and I miss them every day. 

Today on Father's Day, I really miss my dad. He wasn't my biological father, but in many ways, he might as well have been, which is why we took his name when we were in high school. 

My dad and I did not agree politically, but we did share an affinity for empathy. I learned from him that men can be caring and loving, kind and forgiving. He listened to me and heard me, most of the time without judgement, and even if he didn't agree with me, we could have a conversation about everything. 

As I revisit something I wrote about him after he died, I'm struck again about how much I miss his loving smile and the laughter in his heart. It was always a sunny smile, my dad's. A master of levity, he injected humor and silliness into most everything he did. His infectious laughter brought smiles to anyone in the room, the scar above his lip gleaming under light like polished glass. For the life of me, I can't remember how he got the scar. All I know is that it added a richness to his character, like biscuits soaked in honey and butter – you could never get enough.

This from someone who served in the Air Force and who also was a law enforcement veteran of 32 years. Anyone who ever worked with him shared the same sentiment – from the criminals he put away (who he called his customers), to literal strangers he'd meet on the street, in the store, in the campground, in the post office, in the doctor's office – everyone experienced his sunny disposition, his goofy humor, and his viral smile.

My dad inspired me to do the same – to be silly, to embrace life and all the people in it, to always give life and everyone in it a second chance, to still have a smile on my face when facing adversity and my own shortcomings. To always be loving and empathetic with a lightness of being.

I remember when I carried him to the bathroom the week before he died, his frail body still buoyed by the lightness of being he had left. 

Our meditation this morning was about fathers and how we should be unconditionally loving and giving to everyone. My dad was all that, and the love and laughter in his heart left a supernova smile in mine. 

June Gloom Is Everywhere

School's out for the summer. And like many other families, ours longs for social and economic normalcy. Our oldest Beatrice has already been hanging out with her friends and started her job again as a camp counselor at a summer day camp. Our youngest Bryce is grateful for sleeping in, listening to music, watching movies, playing guitar, and waiting for their summer camps to start. We have no big summer vacation plans since Beatrice is working all summer, and so are Mom and Dad, but there are some fun things planned.

But the dark shadows of uncertainty are encroaching everywhere. Recession fears. AI taking our jobs. Global conflict escalations. Extreme weather (again) and fire danger (again). Splintered political and social ideologies that divide people everywhere. Authoritarianism on the rise. Misinformation and elusive variable truths. And I'm still mourning my dear friend. It's like the "June Gloom" as we call it in the Bay Area has blanketed everything. 

Now that our kids are teens and more aware of what's happening around them, the pressures of the adulting world combine with those dark shadows of uncertainty -- and Mom and Dad are stressing more than ever. 

Our kids a little more too, but they're still kids who know that Mom and Dad are taking care and worrying about most things for them still. Bryce wanted to organize a march supporting LGBTQIA+ rights, and did it, with a lot of help from Mom. It was peaceful and without incident, but what happens the next time if things escalate and flash-bang grenades are deployed by law enforcement and the National Guard is deployed, like what's happening in Los Angeles? We had a safety plan for Bryce's march and thankfully didn't have to use it. What happens next time is anyone's guess, but we'll be out there nonetheless. 

Plus, there are adulting worries less potentially violent but are still safety problems that we must worry about. Beatrice is stressing because she wants to get her driver's permit soon. We're excited about that, but we're not excited about our insurance rates. Ugh. But Mom and Dad are stressing because one of our cars has a transmission problem that can't be diagnosed and has become a safety problem for our family. So, that means it's time to shop for a new car after nine years, something we were not planning on doing in this frenetic tariff-driven, high-interest-rate economy. Ugh, again. 

No matter what, our family will invest in some summer normalcy without compromising our beliefs and principles. We will continue to peacefully protest to support the rights of everyone and to keep our country an inclusive democracy.

We'll also have to pay more for things, that's for damn sure, but we're grateful for what we can provide to our family. Blessings to those families who struggle to do the same.

June Gloom is everywhere. Be wary, safe, and well. 

Because There's Always A Promise

The past few weeks have been a lot. Work changes, tons of school board activities, Beatrice's High School Musical, Bryce's We Will Not Be Erased march, Bryce graduating 8th grade, and my best friend's memorial. And yet, I've never been on a sounder emotional footing.

Thank goodness, because the world around us continues to be a proverbial shit show. But none of that mattered, especially this past week. 

First, attending the elementary school promotion ceremony where both our children went to school from preschool to 5th grade was so very sweet. Our oldest Beatrice was with me because one of her longtime friend's sister was graduating 5th grade. Most of the 5th graders all looked so tiny and young. Now they were on their way to middle school. Beatrice's memories were bittersweet because it was the heart of pandemic when she graduated 5th grade and the school did a drive-through promotion certificate pick up.

When Bryce graduated 5th grade, I wasn't there because I had work travel that week. But, because the school streamed the ceremony via Zoom, I did get to watch Bryce speak along with a few other students from each 5th grade class. 

I was not going to miss their 8th grade graduations, however. Amy and I were there for Beatrice's two years ago and then Bryce's this past week. Being on the school board, I'm grateful that I got to hand both our children their promotion certificates on stage. Plus, there's nothing better when you're the school board president and your punk rock kid puts rabbit ears above your head for the photo. Love that kid!

8th grade was a lot for Bryce. They struggled with an introverted social battery that drained quickly and led to emotional changes and anxiety challenges. Beatrice experienced similar changes and challenges when she was in 8th grade, too, but who's now thriving in high school. Bryce is looking forward to joining her in high school where they'll both be in choir and theater together. Amy and I continue to provide a loving and supportive environment for them that helps them learn to adapt and thrive. 

All of Beatrice's and Bryce's recent school activities (and anxieties) have brought back many of my own bittersweet memories (and anxieties). And since my best friend Robby passed away earlier this year, my high school memories continue to unravel like multicolored streamers in high wind. They ripple, flap, and tangle, weaving and bleeding into each other – an unreliable blend of what happened then, what’s happened in the years since, and how I feel about it all now. Memories that tatter in my heart. Memories that reconcile and heal in my heart.

And it was the healing in my heart that radiated with love and gratitude at our friend's celebration of life memorial. My dearest friends and brothers as I call them helped me plan the memorial, and many other longtime friends helped to pull it off. Nearly 50 of us came together to celebrate Robby, including his sister and niece. There were many faces I hadn't seen in person in decades. There were lots of smiles and hugs, and of course tears, and while we're all certainly a lot older now, our past youthful spirits were aglow with the promise of our lives then and now. 

Because there's always a promise, one we owe to ourselves to fulfill every moment of every day. Blessings to Robby and blessings to us all. 

A Family Affair

When Reagan was elected in 1980, that's when I started pushing back on my parents' conservative political and societal ideologies. In fact, throughout high school in the early 1980's I always empathized with those undermined because of who they were and those who wanted equality and equity for all. Anyone whose civil rights were in jeopardy and who were subjected to the conservative politics of that engulfed the 1980's post President Carter. 

Looking back now, I'm still so very grateful that my parents let me push back and debate on their political and societal ideologies. I'm still so very grateful they pushed back and debated mine. They listened patiently as I argued why we needed to support marginalized people, from immigrants to LGBTQ to people of color to the homeless -- that they all had a right to exist. Sometimes I'd get so frustrated and angry when they'd give up and tell me they that "it's just the way things are". We sometimes agreed on things and sometimes agreed to disagree. And sometimes we'd just tell each other that the other was just plain wrong. But that was the extent of my protesting. 

Because I was also still a teenager who loved school, played sports, made messes, slept in until noon, liked girls, and just wanted to have fun, without degrading most others who weren't like me. Back then I never really cared about whether someone was gay or straight. We never really talked about it as a family, nor did I talk about it with my friends, at least until the AIDS epidemic began. Unfortunately, I was still guilty over the years of using "gay" and "faggot" as comedic but derogatory slurs and did so with my friends for many years after high school. It's something I finally stopped doing and encouraged my friends to do the same.

Once my wife Amy and I had children, we knew that we were all in for being empathic and caring parents who would love their children no matter who they were or what they'd become. So many of our generation, Gen X, were brought up to not challenge authority, especially after the societal counter-culture upheaval of the 1960's and early 1970's. It wasn't quite the old English proverb, dating from the 15th century, "Children should be seen and not heard," especially since many of our parents worked while we were in school and we had way too much time to kill without the adults around, so we weren't seen or heard a lot. But there were those of us who were encouraged not to speak out against things we were supposedly too young and immature to understand. 

And so many of us bit our tongues a lot over the decades and didn't speak out, even when the powers that be created policies that didn't serve our best interests and muted our rights. What I've realized is that many of my generation became supportive apologists for the conservative status quo that continued from the 1970's and 1980's, and into the 1990's and 2000's, even with two-term Democratic presidents being elected. And even if they never really agreed with policy decisions that disparately impacted already marginalized segments of the population that included them. 

Amy and I truly believed it was going to be different for our family. As our children grew older, we took them to peaceful protests and marches in support of women's rights and more. We discussed current events at home, and they would ask us questions. We encouraged them to find multiple verifiable sources for things they heard or read about. Although we're much more aligned ideologically than I was with my parents, they still push back on us, and us on them. 

But our teens are still teens doing the things teens do that can drive parents a little crazy -- sleeping in, making messes, the emotional roller coaster rides, and more. The difference for us is that we listen to them, and they listen to us (mostly), allowing for a reciprocal trusting and understanding dialogue about nearly anything they/we want to talk about. That's why when Bryce shared they wanted to organize a local march event to support the rights of LGBTQIA+ people that are in jeopardy (along with the rights of us all), we were more than proud and supportive. 

Bryce also wanted to do a school walkout, in which they get students to walk out of class and school, which we were not supportive of. For one, I'm on the local school board and I could not support that because our district supports the safety and well-being of all students with a strong policy against discrimination, harassment, and retaliation. 

The "We Will Not Be Erased" march that Bryce conceived and organized with help from Amy (Mom) and The Diversity Center, along with the support of many other organizations including the Santa Cruz County Office of Education and Santa Cruz City Schools, was an inspiring and peaceful event with student and adult speakers, chants, music, and hundreds in attendance with a whole lot of empathy, love, and support for not only LGBTQIA+ rights, but for the rights of us all. 

This was also a family affair, and to put a positive 21st century spin and the 15th century proverb I referenced earlier: "Children should be seen and heard and encouraged to take the chances and make the changes that we never made so that the world will be a better place for all people." 

Amen.

A Lighted Life to Live

"Chase the sun around the world
I want to look at life
In the available light..."

–Rush, Available Light

I wanted to get a family picture under the rainbow balloon arch before we headed into the awards ceremony, but that didn't happen. First we tabled with other local organizations supporting LGBTQIA+ student groups to promote Bryce's upcoming We Will Not Be Erased March coming up this week on May 13. Then I was recruited with a few of the other school board members who attended to help serve food, which we gladly did. Then we enjoyed the watching the Queer Youth Leadership Awards (QYLA), celebrating some amazing kids demonstrating empathic leadership sorely lacking in today's world.

Once the event was over, our kids and their friends were talking away while our youngest Bryce and their mom Amy worked on recruiting other students to speak at Bryce's march. I was tired but was still determined to get that dang family picture. 

I'm the family photographer. Always have been. That was one of the many positive attributes my mother instilled in me (pummeled me with sometimes, actually). I love Amy, but if it wasn't for me, there would only be a handful of family pictures. Every once in a while I take a journey through all our photos, most of which are now on my computer. It's always a wondrous journey, one where I can relive our family story over and over again. From the day I met Amy, to the birth of Beatrice, then Bryce, to all the things we've done in the nearly 17 years since. 

The pictures (and videos) I've taken over the years are the permanent representations of our love letters that last. They haven't all been love letters, mind you; there have been some bittersweet and painful moments that perusing our pictures remind me of. But those are few and far between. Looking at our family pictures just reminds me how much I love Amy and our children. 

Like I need reminding. I'm so grateful for them. This Mother's Day I awoke and again checked out our pictures before Amy or the kids were up. I was intent on picking some out for a last-minute collage, but I became overwhelmed and was happily lost in our memories. What struck me was something I was already aware of: my eye for light. I'm only a photo hobbyist, so no professional photographer careers in my future, but I do have an eye for light. 

Prior to meeting Amy I struggled with darkness and depression. I preferred emoting in the shadows because that's what I grew up with, what I knew. Too much stress and trauma that fueled anxiety that fueled fumbling through life -- until I started chasing the light. I wanted to finally be happy. To live in abundance and love, and not scarcity and sadness. Like my dear friend Robby who passed away earlier this year had said to me more than once over the years, "You know, sometimes I wish this would all end, but then I think, I still really want to see what happens next. You know what I mean?"

I do. And we did, my friend. After Amy came into my life, she reminded me every day -- and reminds me and our children every day -- with every word and action -- there is always a lighted life to live. There is abundance. There is love. There is grace. We don't always see it, but the light is always available, it's always there. 

And yes, I got my latest family picture -- a BhivePowered rainbow 🌈 by Mom.

Happy Mother's Day, Amy. We love you.