The First Cut is the Deepest

Sunday is a day I won't soon forget. Seth...You took a spill down the stairs at Miss Jodie's house and split a big gash in your cheek. It was nasty. Mom & Jodie took you to the emergency room and I drove like a madman down from our house. When I got there I wasn't prepared for what I saw. You were screaming in pain as three people were trying to hold you down while the doctor gave you shots on the cut to numb it. Oh man...not my boy. I tried to console you and assure you that this would be over soon but the combination of fear and pain was too strong for you to calm down. I laid down across your body to help hold you down. I held your hands and urged you to squeeze them as hard as you could. Take it out on me. I'll take all the pain you want to transfer to me. That's what a dad does. It took forever, or so it seemed. I can say without reservation that this was one of the more horrible experiences I have ever had in my life. You'll understand it one day when you have kids of your own. Their pain is your pain. Your pain was most certainly my pain. The doctor finally got you stitched up. My story from here on out will be that it was my piercing glare at the doctor that got him to do such a good job. It was a “Sew my son's face wrong and I'll rip your throat out” stare. Your dad can tend to be a bit intense in these situations.

You came through it like a trooper. A sweaty, exhausted trooper, but a trooper nonetheless. By the next morning you had your strength back and except for the black eye and swelling seemed to be your old self. Gonna take more than that to slow you down. Plus I think it sank in that chicks dig scars.

In the scheme of your life this event will prove insignificant more than likely. You will have so many things that are more important and unfortunately, sometimes more painful. But to me, it's something that will stay with me. I can't describe the feeling in any way except “Please God, make it stop.” I love you, my son, with all that I am. Always will, unconditionally. Scars and all.

Headline from "The First Cut is the Deepest" by Rod Stewart, 1977 (originally by Cat Stevens, 1967)

And I am lost, and I can't even say why

Each day gets a little closer to normal life. The realization now that my business will survive and I will continue to be able to provide for my family is a reassurance that was missing four weeks ago. I'm still struggling to balance work, family, health and all of the many, many pressures of daily life. But I'm getting there. I think.

I want so much for you guys. Your success in life, however that is defined, is of utmost importance to me as I'm sure it is to your Mom. Sage...you got your second round of vaccinations yesterday and man, they hurt didn't they? Your pain is our pain. If I could take those shots for you I would without hesitating. Seth...my wise, oh so insightful, keep me on my toes, amazing son...you're trying hard to find your way. I see it. Keep working and you'll see incredible results. This world can be a challenging one. One that sometimes kicks you square in the teeth. But it can also afford you highs that make those occasional kicks tolerable. You have the world before you. Grab it. So few actually do.

I'm trying to grab it myself. I've never been one to settle. Settling is for the weak. Yes, my bar is set high. But I don't want to be the guy who accepts what life hands me. Nope. I'm taking what I can and reaching for what I'm told that I can't have. Don't let others define what you can have and what you cannot. They don't know what you're capable of and those statements come from their own fears.

Occasionally in life you both will feel lost. It's OK to feel this way as long as you keep your map open. (Maps are what we used to use to find our way before GPS.) You'll need to refer to it often to keep yourself on track. Don't lose sight of your destination. Many obstacles will try to block the path to your goals but obstacles are meant to be overcome. They are merely tests put before us to make sure we appreciate the destination once we get there.

Headline from "I Am, I Said" by Neil Diamond, 1971

Here I Am, Rock You Like a Hurricane

It's been a while in between posts. The reason is that our world got turned upside down starting on September 11th. That was the day we packed up and headed to Dallas to escape the potential wrath of a hurricane named Ike. At the time, my thought was "We'll probably lose power and it might be really windy and scare the kids...so let's skip out of town." Well, as it turned out, Ike slammed right into Houston creating more than just a little wind. In a nutshell, it sucked. Yeah, it really sucked. We lost power at home fro 16 days. 16 days. Not something I'd like to do again. Ike was kind enough to tear the roof off your Dad's business and we came back to find about four inches of water on the floor and the place smelling like a sewer. It was some kind of month. I can honestly say that I have never worked so hard, under so much pressure. It was the first time I can remember not being in control of a situation. Some insight...I don't do well in those situations. But we got through it, all of us. Your mom did a great job taking care of you guys and leaving me to deal with what I had on my plate. We're not done yet...we're still rebuilding the chocolate company and it'll be a few more weeks until things return to normal there. But we're getting there.

Amidst the destruction, turmoil, frustration, anxiety, stress, and hopelessness of the situation we found ourselves in, I was amazed at the sense of community that I saw especially amongst our neighbors. Everyone went out of their way to help each other. It was one of those things that restores your faith in your fellow man. In times of adversity we can still come together. There is hope after all.

I hope we never again have to go through anything like this. I underestimated it and I don't do that often. I will tell you this...if there's a next time...guess which family is gonna have the kick-ass hurricane preparedness kit on the block. You guessed it.

Headline from "Rock You Like a Hurricane" by The Scorpions, 1984