A Series of Fortunate Events

At first, it felt like a series of unfortunate events...

When my wife Amy came back a few minutes after she had just left, I knew something was wrong with the car. 

She came back inside the house and said, "There's a bolt in the front tire."

"F-ck," I said. 

"Can you contact the Hyundai roadside assistance?" Amy asked me. 

"Yes, I will. We have the worst frickin' tire luck in the world," I said.

"I know, but at least the car maintenance is fully covered," she said. 

"We'll still have to have it towed to the dealer, though. F-ck."

This was only three months into having our new car. It's like every six months we're dealing with a screw or bolt or nail in our tires. 

Like everything that happens in adulting world that we can't put off and have to take care of, it can be a life-drag momentary buzzkill. "It's only time and money" Amy and I joke when these things happen. Time and money. And sometimes the money might not always be there, but there's sure as hell always time. Time you can never get back.

Then came the news of my sister in ICU battling recurring health problems. So, the day after the tire was fixed, we drove four hours to see how we could help my niece and nephew and their mom. 

While we were gone, we got a call from our oldest Beatrice that there were ants all over our kitchen. We coached her on cleanup and she did the best she could. There wasn't anything else we could do until we were home again. 

After returning home, we assessed ant situation and saw that our neighbors had an exterminator over because they also had an ant infestation. So, Amy called the exterminator and they came over to our house to spray. This was during our morning workout, which was frustrating to me, because that's important time for me, both physically and mentally, but I knew we had to take care of it. Blessings to my wife for managing that. 

Then we had our handyman come over to replace the faucet mixer valves on our shower and bath. We didn't have all the right parts at first, so that delayed the fixing. Once we did have all the parts, the shower went fine, but the bathtub faucet did not. No matter what he did, there was no hot water, and it wouldn't stop leaking out of the faucet. He finally got the hot water adjusted, but it still wouldn't stop leaking, and now we have to call a plumber. Amy had been researching it to see if we could fix it ourselves, but I knew if I touched it, there would've been a horizontal geyser drenching us both.

During this week of continuous un-fun things, I attended a work conference in Las Vegas for a few days. I enjoyed the time with my team, seeing old industry friends, and some yummy meals, but it was a lonely drag being away from my wife and kids. I felt overwhelmed by it all because I was also woefully behind on work research reports, and the conference time increased that distance further. I kept checking in on my sister who was stable and out of ICU but still not well. Plus, the wifi in my room didn't work well, and the hotspot on my phone didn't work at all, so I had to sit in the food court of the casino hotel with pop music playing too loudly around me to get some work done. All the while the divided world outside burned.

Used to be that when life got overwhelming for me, my anxiety would bind my mind with barbed wire, and my heart would sink to the bottom of the sea. I'd get depressed and completely check out from everyone around me. But over the years I've learned to better adapt, stay centered (somewhat) no matter how askew, and keep going. That doesn't stop me from being grump-fussy; I rail at the universe and let it know I will persevere. Amy helps me with that along the way as well (even when I'm grump-fussy with her). Our meditation practice has helped a lot, too. And if the universe is God, and God is the universe, blessings to us all.

What felt like a string of unfortunate things ultimately became a series of fortunate events. Ones that included seeing family we don't see that often. Ones that included seeing colleagues I don't see that often. Ones that included hearing our youngest Bryce's solo audition video for choir while I was away at the conference. Ones that included talking about what colleges to attend with Beatrice after I got back. Ones that include petting our purring cat first thing in the morning then walking our dog. Ones that included a wonderful mountain hike with Amy to reflect and decompress from the bumpy week we had just had. 

Ones that included having a celebratory dinner for your daughter's 17th birthday. Time and money got nothing on these things. Fortunate indeed. 

For the Rest of My Life

There's only one person I've ever wished would die. I'm not sure if that's something I should be proud of, or admit to, or to write down here, but it's true. Not only wishing him to die, but wanting to kill him.

Why? Because he was a horribly abusive man who terrorized my mother, emotionally abused my sister, and sexually abused me. Two and half years of our lives that felt like forever every day. This was our first stepfather after our mother divorced our birth father, another broken man who was an alcoholic, abused our mother, and neglected my sister and me, who I eventually forgave decades later.

Both our birth father and first stepfather are long gone now. My vengeful hate is long gone. I'm grateful for the latter. Blessings to anyone struggling with past personal trauma, who can envision themselves striking back against those who have wronged them. Because if you act on it, you cross a Rubicon you can never return from, and it will never change what prompted the vengeful act in the first place. Decades later, forgiving and letting go were the only viable solutions for me. That was transformative for me and helped me to be a better human, husband, and father. 

But there are many kinds of personal and societal trauma today that need the positive support structures. mindsets, and skills to heal from them. Today, extreme political and socioeconomic polarization traumatize our world (again). Some are striking back and being celebrated for doing so. Killing or hurting, or attempting to kill or hurt, vilified CEOs, billionaires, Presidents, other elected officials, judges, political influencers, celebrities, and others. Those we blame for our personal woes, the woes of others, and/or those who we vehemently disagree with. 

For me, there are two problems going on simultaneously. Two problems that are impacting the lives of too many around the world. Those are the aggressive and violent overreactions to the extremism, and those who support the extremism (or selective parts of it) on either end of the spectrum. Both are dangerous to the rest of us. The rest of us who believe empathy and finding common ground are key to closing the disagreement gap, not destroying it. It's harder when things are batshit crazy and false, on either side of the spectrum. Because the rest of us in between don't revel in the demise of others we disagree with, or blame for our woes and/or the woes of others, or wish them to die, or to kill them. 

It's just as hard for me to accept the rhetoric of those who agree with selective parts of any extremist dialogue than it is to grapple directly with full-throated extremism itself. And it's dangerous that so many have demonized leading with love and empathy. I don't understand how anyone can say empathy is destroying our world, because I believe the very people who believe that are the ones leaving a path of destruction for the rest of us, especially for our children. How can the ability to understand and share the feelings of others be evil? It's this backwards alternative universe we find ourselves in that frightens me the most. 

This isn't a Stephen King novel where we can take out a supposed antagonist to prevent a cataclysmic event. But sadly we're devolving into our violent human past and the extremism is killing civility and compromise. And each other. I've always been supportive of free speech, but I disagree with "agreeing to disagree" when the "disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist" (thank you, James Baldwin). The difference is that I'm not going to counter by killing. Blessings to those lost and their families because of it.

I know I'm not without bias or incapable of consuming poisoned beliefs, but I'm going to do everything I can to counter them for the rest of my life by rising above and leading with love, mindfulness, and empathy, without shame, judgment, or retribution. Amen.

The Main Mom-and-Dad Thing

Every time I had an asthma attack, it felt like a ton of hot gravel had filled my lungs. My face would wash out white and I had to slump over to help me breathe better. And if I got a cold with my asthma, it became horrid no-sleep coughing jag for many nights, getting little to no sleep.

This was when I was little until I was a teen. The severe allergies and asthma I had as a child literally faded away in high school. But then they came back decades later in adulthood. Not as bad as then, but still bad, especially when I'd get a nasty cold combo.

When I was little, I suffered less because my mom did everything she could to comfort me and take care of me. My birth father and first father shared no love or support for me or my sister, but Mom never stopped caring for us. Never stopped caring for me when I was sick and felt like I could barely breathe.

When my wife Amy and I decided to have children, we went in fully invested in keeping them well. Or, as well as we could. From shared family throw-up bowls, to all-night comfort zones, to empathetically living their anguish when our kids were sick -- we were always there together. 

Especially Amy. I'm a loving, caring father, but I'm not the Mom. And that's okay. As an adult, Amy takes care of me and the kids when we're sick. I, of course, do the same, but I don't have the same softer empathic touch that she has. I'm just a little rougher around the edges when it comes to comfort. 

Regardless of our respective styles, we both care deeply when any of us don't feel good. Mentally or physically. When we dealt with our kids' middle school anxiety angst, we did it with patience, listening, and a lot of love. We were also grateful to provide them with whatever they needed to adapt and persevere. 

When our kids get physically sick, like with colds, it sucks all around for us all. It sucks for them because it simply sucks to be sick, and it sucks for us because Mom and I just want to make it all better, but we can't. It's got to run its course. We can comfort them and give them medicine if need be to treat the symptoms, like cold medicine and decongestant, which helped Bryce a few weeks ago. And after an urgent care visit for our oldest Beatrice recently, an inhaler. Such a bummer for both kids to get sick right after school started.

But we never thought that the cold medicine and inhaler would make Beatrice sick. An inhaler was always my go-to when I had allergy and asthma attacks, especially when it got exacerbated by a cold and a rough cough. Just like what Beatrice got, but for Beatrice, they just made her feel worse. 

Bea's on the mend now and catching up on the school she missed. Bryce did the same before her. Thankfully none of us get sick that often, but when we do, it sucks. It's hard enough when Mom and Dad get sick, because we have to keep doing our Mom-and-Dad things, like taking care of the family, the pets, the house, the work, the everything. To be fair, our teens do have their chores and help us around the house. 

But when the kids are sick, the main Mom-and-Dad thing is loving and caring for them, whether they're 5 and 7, or 15 and 17. I'm sure that will continue to be true for our family, even when they're taking care of us someday.