Ramblings, Incoherent Thought and Family

It's hard to lose your heroes.  Such a profoundly obtuse statement in some ways. Of course it's hard. It involves dealing with ideas of mortality, growing into roles that until now we were happy to have filled by others and judging by the previous generations I've seen, an overwhelming urge to go to early bird dinners and eat peanut brittle and cole slaw (thank God I haven't gotten to that last stage yet...cole slaw still feels like an abomination YUCK) In the past few weeks I (and many many others) have been dealing with losing a true mentor and friend to cancer. Stan Gosek was a true renaissance person. Gifted in teaching, tennis and probably most importantly...music. He was a 'watershed' person for me and so many others I know. My wife asked me last week when I described Stan in those terms what it meant. I always defined a watershed person as someone who would come into my life, and change it so that every day after getting to know that person...my life woul...

 It's strange getting older.  I don't know if it's my generation or not...but in a lot of ways I still feel like I'm the younger person everywhere I go.  Even when I look in the mirror and see white hair (well...less of it on top but plenty on the bottom) and I realize that most of the music I listen to is in fact over 30 years old I can't help feeling that I'm still 'not quite grown'.  I think that's why I'm still surprised when I speak to my bonus kids or niece and nephew and they get this look on their faces that I don't have any idea what it is I'm talking about.  That in a lot of ways...I'm irrelevant. Not in any mean way. Just in that way that I can remember thinking my Dad and Mom and any person older than 28 couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be a somewhat socially awkward kid trying to navigate the simple things in life like High School, dating and how to program the VCR to record episodes of Next Generation...

I don't think it's a big secret how I feel about my Dad.  In other blog posts, facebook updates or heck...just flat out conversation with me.  When the subject of my Dad comes up...I don't hold back anymore. I am a fan. It started when I was a kid of course.  I think most young sons when they have a father as engaged and present as mine was...have some sort of feelings for their Dad.  Even ones who may not be the best 'father' on the planet...there is something to the bond between a Father and his Son.  I remember seeing my Dad as my protector, provider and at times...the ruiner of fun.  I still can't sit through "The Jungle Book" to this day because when it first was re-released to theaters in 1978...my Dad took my sister and I with our Mom to see it.  We weren't there ten minutes and we were running around the theatre and being general brats.  Dad gets us, takes us out and said we weren't going to stay because we were just too bad.  I remem...

  Ten years. Over five million minutes.   A decade. These are all ways to describe the passage of time and usually used in context of trying to communicate to others about the passage of time from an event of significance. “It’s been ten years since I graduated” “It’s been a literal decade since I’ve seen you” “Dude…it’s been over five million minutes since I had that drink” “It’s been ten years since I said goodbye to my Mom.” A decade…five million minutes.   My God.   When I think about that time.   The person I was…what I was going through.   Who the most important people in my life were then…I can truly state that the loss of my Mom was a watershed moment in my life which is to say that it is a moment that would impact and alter every moment that came after it.      While the core parts of me are still here (A love of family, sense of loyalty, love of God, desire to make people laugh and most importantly…the dance I do...

Mother's Day has always been hard. At least for me.   Not because I didn't know how to or want to honor my mother.  Far from it.  The sun rose and set on her and her loss is still palpable and present even almost 8 years later.   Every year I made sure to spend Mother's Day with Mom (except when in college...but even then it was almost always a chance to 'bring a load home' early. ).  I didn't do the normal things every year.  We tried to make her breakfast in bed I remember when Betty and I were like 12 and 10...but that just seemed to make more work for her with cleanup/loss of batter and I think she ended up eating Froot Loops in Bed instead.  Gifts were all over the place and ranged in usefulness from a coffee mug with something silly on it, to an ash tray I made (that I actually still have) where the bird in the nest had fallen OFF the bowl while it was in the kiln and so sits in the nest 'beak' down, to an Amazon Kindle that I still hav...

 I've spoken of it before.  Christmas eve was the most amazing and magical time of the year for me from basically my first birthday until I was 16.  I'm sitting here on my last day as a 46 year old...and I find myself remembering all of it and missing my family.   It was my last full day as a 16 year old.  Grandma had been sick for awhile.  We all knew that the odds were good this would be the last year.  Christmas Eve was an institution for my family.  If I'm being honest...it was my most anticipated day of the the year...and I was born ON Christmas.  I have memories of sitting in classrooms in elementary school and thinking about how excited I was to go to Grandma's on Christmas Eve.  I can't exactly explain why.  I mean I was a lonely kid to be sure.  Nerdy and a bit weird (oh how the years change things lol).  I didn't make a lot of friends.  I usually had one 'go to' friend in each grade...but I was just the...