Middle Name

When I found out that the first child I was to Father was to be a Girl... I honestly thought "Who in the hell did I piss off in a past life?!". My second thought was something along the lines of "Oh Shit. What am I supposed to do? I don't even understand her Mother. How am I supposed to survive in a house with two females? They're so complicated. They're borderline insane...

I do not understand these creatures. I do not understand them at all. I do not understand them in the Summer. I do not understand them in the Fall. I do not understand them in the Morning. I do not understand them at Night. I do not understand them when they won't admit they're wrong. I do not understand them when they won't admit I'm right!".

OK, perhaps there wasn't such a Dr. Seuss ring to my thoughts but that's how I remember it.

Boy, was I a schmuck.

I haven't the words to describe how absolutely, unequivocally, all kidding aside, honest to goodness, AMAZING you were to me (and still are, don't worry!).

But, this isn't a letter about that.

This is a letter about a name.

About three years before you were born there was an accident in our County. It was a school bus accident. It was a school bus that was carrying 7 small elementary school children to the school that both you and your brother now attend. The school where your mother, at the time, was just beginning her own career. As you well know, she's still there. Also, as you well know, that little park in front of the school is called a Memorial Park for a reason.

On that fateful spring day in March of 2000, the sun was out, the air was crisp but warm & I was toiling away at the White House on the hill doing the things that my job entailed. Your mother was, I'm sure, bustling around her classroom in preparation for the day's upcoming classwork. Somewhere a few miles northeast of your Mom, a bus driver was driving a bus carrying a handful of children properly strapped in with their seat belts.

Several minutes before the accident the bus had stopped for the last student on that road. Her name was Kayla Silvers. She was 6 years old. Her Daddy waited with her at the end of the driveway and made sure she safely got aboard. He then waved, turned around and walked back to the house.

Several minutes later, absentmindedly perhaps, the bus driver didn't stop at the rail road crossing. Instead, she slowly began crossing it, oblivious to the 193 ton, 33 car freight train that was barreling down, horn blaring, just over 1000 feet away.

The impact was so violent that it tore the bus from its frame and carried it far down the railroad tracks.

Kayla Silvers' Daddy heard the accident.

He ran down the road and found his little baby girl, lifeless. He cradled her broken body in his arms and he did what any man would do. He wept and he prayed for anyone listening to help. He never put her down. He only let her go when an EMT finally had to tell him the worst news a Daddy could ever hear.

Two other children eventually wandered into that endless sleep due to that accident.

Almost 3 years later, to the day, your mom and I first began discussing having children. She wanted a girl. I was convinced it would be a boy. A month or two later we began trying and before we knew it... you were on your way.

As we thought about names, we could never agree on the middle one. Nothing really fit.

One night, rather accidentally, I stumbled across an older news story about that moment and I thought about Kayla Silvers & her Daddy. I thought about how he would never get to watch her grow up (As I Have). He would never see her dancing in the rain or catching fireflies in a mason jar (As I Have). How he would never be able to tuck her in at night or rush to her aid when nightmares rattled her little body from sleep (As I Have). How he would never get those things... again. As I Do.

I wept. You have no idea.

That is how you got your Middle Name.

I Love You.

Conversations

Me: P, how is that keyboard working out?

P: I love it, Daddy.

Me: I hope you use it to find your notes. So you can sing in your key.

P: I do Daddy. I press one thing and sing that sound. I can do it for all of them.

Me: Good, Baby. I think it will help you find your songs.

P: Daddy, do you wanna know what my dream is?

Me: What, frog?

P: I wanna be on the radio & sing in Times Square.

Me: *blink*

*pause*

Me: Then Do It, Darlin'.

_____________________________________________________________________________


C: Hey Daddy. Thank you for the guns.

Me: You're welcome, Buddy. Every boy needs a set of pistols to fend off the bad guys. Do they pop when you pull the trigger? Are you getting rid of the bad guys?

C: Yep. But there's a problem.

Me: There is? What's the problem?

C: I wanna be the guy that takes the money.

Me: You wanna be the what?

C: The Outraw?

Me: You wanna be the Outlaw?

C: Yea! The one that robs the banks!

Me:... *wipes tear*... then you're gonna need a black cowboy hat and a good set of spurs. I'll find them for you, son.

C:  That's Daddy!

______________________________________________________________________________

Conversations, however peculiar, have shaped our world.

Keep having them.

Your Dad, Part II

P, I know you're starting to write your own songs now. I've saved ever single bit of lyrical content you've written. Even the ones that span multiple pages, are written in purple magic marker & have unicorns drawn in their corners (my favorite, I might add). You keep doing that.

I hope the new keyboard will help you find different instruments, different avenues & ultimately, a different muse with which to create your prodigies.

You keep writing your songs as long as you have the mind to imagine them. Your Dad still does. Even when he ignores the chairs in the room.

P.S. Remember what I said about playing with picks... they're overrated. You have five individual fingers. Put them to use on occasion. ;)

Mirror

I want to tell you about Love.

It is unlike everything you have ever believed it to be. It is unlike the movies that portray it, the books that wandered within it & the stories reminisced of it by those you trust. It is unlike all of those venues.

I understand that is a bold statement but I promise you, I Promise You, it is the truest statement I have ever known.

Love is not magical. It is not a Fairy Tale. It is Better than that.

Love does not happen in an instant. There is no First Sight. Love is like the sediment that builds up the banks of a small creek, a wide river or the oceans themselves. It takes far longer than the time you have to offer, but it works far quicker when you're not paying attention.

Love is not having to say a word and knowing that being silent is OK. Love is a small smile when everyone else is showing their teeth. Love is not hope, it's hoping. Love is shitting with the bathroom door ajar... and laughing about the sounds. Hey, that's just the truth.

Love Happens... but it does not, has never & will never just Happen.

My hope for you is that one day you can find someone who hates your flaws and yet adores the fact that you have them. The Loving is easy... the Living with it is the hard part.

Your eyes will always tell the truths your mouth hasn't learned to convey.

Find your mirror when you're ready. Love the reflection.

And if they make funny faces at you.. You Win.

Get Lost Again

I want to tell you about California.

California was dropped off somewhere near the end of the road about 11 months ago. She was frail, lost & in desperate need of hope. I fully understood her plight.

She wandered up out of the dark on a Tuesday night. She was crying. I said hello. She wrapped herself around my legs in quite the eternal fashion. That's just what cats do. I gave her milk (it's all I had). She adored it. The next day, I gave her food. She adored that. The next day, she was a part of our Family.

You've seen her plenty of times lately. She allows you to pick her up, snuggle her & drop her from heights that I don't agree with, yet she never complains. Well, except when you squeeze her tail and she pops you in the head (no claws, might I add). Frankly, you deserve it when that happens. But back to my point. Do you know why she stays?

Do you have any idea?

It's because she trusts that we care. It's because she found a home. It's because she is comfortable.

Cali was lucky. One day, you might not be. So what do you do should you wander up out of the dark on a Tuesday, crying & completely lost... only to find that your finder cannot or will not give you comfort, safety or the feeling of a family?

Get Lost Again.

Driftwood

There are moments in the still quiet of these summer evenings when I just enjoy breathing. When the sun has set, when the fireflies have found contentment in their ever unending pursuit of companionship & when the world, as I know it here in this little corner, finally learns how to settle itself.

These moments are my ever after. These moments are when I stop swimming in the undertow. Sometimes I sink. Sometimes I am full and fat and hover far above the water. Ultimately though, I always end up just floating on the surface.

Be a rock when you need to sink. Be a bubble when you need to hover. Be driftwood in between.

Another Day

I want to tell you a secret.

I would like to say it is the secret to end all secrets, that of life, but I'm neither bold nor brilliant enough to boast in such a manner.

The fact that today, right at this moment, I blink & still breath proves the fact that I have found 37 years on this planet intriguing, intoxicating, infuriating & ultimately, thus far, unending. My choices have not yet killed me, my path has not yet laid me down & my worth has not yet been judged in whole.

We'll leave those absolutes for another day.

I don't want you to take things too seriously. By things, I mean all things. The human brain has an infinite capacity to learn. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean it grows. That just means it "knows". What you feed it dictates how big, strong, wise, tough and/or weak it can become. But "knowing" something has never, will never & can never be absolutely true. I say this because if you take things too seriously, eventually you'll fill the extra room above the garage of your brain with junk that you never wanted to own & can never sell.

At its best, life is laughable. At its worst, it's misery. Understand what that means.

You weren't put here to fulfill a reason. You weren't put here to overcome any obstacle. You weren't put here to achieve any thing. You weren't put here at all. You just happened to get to Be Here.

So while you're here...

Sit in the dark more often than you do in the light. It will give you an entirely different perspective on what your eyes take for granted. See people for who they are and not what you've expected them to be. Take compliments with humility & take criticism equally as such. Perspective has driven our species the entire time, as it were. It's built nations and it's torn them down. Ironically, it has always remained after.

Love with everything inside of you until you feel as if you'll burst. Don't worry about reciprocation. One day you'll realize that reciprocation never mattered nearly as much as you assumed it did.

Open a door for a stranger. Not because you expect them to thank you but because you expected them to pass through a door that you happened to reach first. Do it with honesty. Do it because you can.

Stop worrying. It changes nothing.

Live your life with integrity. Own up to your fuck ups. Be comfortable in your own human skin. We are not perfect, we never will be & our actions will always define those truths. Never be ashamed of what you tried to do, be or become, regardless of the path you take in discovering those roads.

Because all paths end up being roads. Understand what that means as well.

Now, about my secret...

I think I'll save it for another day.