Animal Death Policy

No, I am not talking about an insurance policy on an animal, only crazy people do that. It is a simple policy or rule that my kids had to agree to if they wanted a pet. The rule is really quite simple.
If an animal becomes injured or sick and veterinary care is required above and beyond what I can do myself, and the cost of the veterinary bill exceeds the amount it cost to put the animal down – well the animal loses. Now, I am not totally unreasonable shots and vaccines do not get charged against the animals account. For the most part my home vet skills have proved adequate except for this one time, oh yeah that’s right there was that other time.
My six year old daughter had been given a kitten from her uncle, my brother. I might add that brother is a particular bad brother. I mean what kind of a brother brings kittens into the room where a six year old little girl is who has wanted a kitten for a really long time? That is evil and that sinister smile he gave when I was doing my best to explain to my daughter that we really shouldn’t have a kitten is still emblazed into my memory. He knew I was fighting a battle that there was no possible way I was going to win. That smile – Grrrr! I am still bitter.
Two years go by. Cat and daughter became attached. No - that’s wrong. Daughter became attached to cat. Cat could careless about daughter. Cat slept on daughter’s bed. Daughter dressed cat up in doll clothes. Cat would strut around like he was King Tut - sickening.
The call came while I was at work – you know the call – daughter is crying telling me I need to come home Skippy is hurt. Oh, yes cat did get a name but I preferred cat. I came rushing home and sure enough cat is hurt pretty bad. One look and I knew it was beyond my sewing skills.
I got the cat wrapped up tight in a towel so our second stop wouldn’t be the emergency room and the whole fam-damily headed off to the vet. Daughter is crying in the back seat. I look over and my wife is tearing up, oldest daughter is also now crying. D’OH! The only thing I am thinking about is – how am going to get out of this without it costing me a mint. The only rational one in the whole car was our 4 year old son. He was so intrigued with the wounds we had to keep scolding him to stop trying to touch the owiee. I decided since we were all together this would be the perfect time to remind everyone about the vet policy.
I didn’t even get the words out of my mouth before that “don’t you dare” look from the wife’s eyes shot darts of venom at me. UGH! Where is the support when you need it? Where is the - we are a team, we will be undivided, it is us against the world?
Long story short, just so you know an eight year old daughters tears over rule sound business policies every time. $150.00 later we were back home. Skippy lived to see another day and he now had bragging scars with all the other cats in the neighborhood. And, me? Well, I went to the garage and found something to fix that required a 5 lb. sledge.
Here’s the rub I live with people I really like and they get attached to these animals. I keep telling them emotion is the enemy but they just won’t listen. It seems I am stuck in this love hate paradox. On one side is the love – my family, and then on the other side is the cat. Well, I think I have said quite enough on the subject. Advice is all ways welcome.

Aunt Ruth and Uncle Carl

My Aunt Ruth describes her late husband as one of a kind. She herself is one of a kind, my mother’s younger sister, one of eleven, born into a poor Mennonite family. Growing up she was not one of those Aunts that had to hug you tight and press wet can’t wait to wipe off kisses from your cheek. She in contrast was the Aunt who allowed a nephew space, and always had a positive interest in him. She would laugh at his jokes, and years later put a comforting hand on his arm, when he was dealing with a deep loss. He felt she understood the pain. Her laugh still rings like chimes from a grand church organ, a beautiful sound bouncing from wall to wall eventually settling into the ears of those in her midst. Unlike many of my other Aunts, she wore lipstick, earrings, nail polish, and dressed stylish. She was my most beautiful Aunt. When you talked to her she would look you in the eye and let you say everything you had to say, and you felt listened to.

In a day where the trend is for men to be the brunt of jokes in sitcoms, and marginalized as useless shallow brutes that are driven only by base desires. Listen to my dear Aunt describing to me her husband who passed away sometime ago – so tender - such a different picture, of the stereo type. Notice the respect, the warmth, the value she placed on him, the love she had toward him and he toward her.

Read it slowly and let the words do their work.

“He was one of a kind and I learned from him that men were very nice, warm, cuddly, forgiving, funny, honest, dependable, strong, caring, wise, thoughtful, and occasionally extremely maddening! There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him. There are no situations in my life now that I don’t think about what he would do or want me to do. Just today I went to pick up my two live-ins (two dogs) after they were finished with their baths and I had to pass the cemetery where his earthly remains lie in a porcelain urn in a marble vault -located near the chimes next to a running stream with a lake all covered with ducks and two swans----- and I thought -----WHAT IN THE HECK ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE ANYWAY????????? WHY DON'T YOU JUST GET OVER IT AND COME ON HOME!”

My memories of this man are few but my impressions of him are strong. He lived in another state and I only saw him once a year when our two families went on family vacations together. He was a man full of life. He loved to fish the ocean and I can still see him leaning over the side of the boat emptying his stomach. For several years it was the same routine. My dad is driving the boat, Uncle Carl throwing up and us kids fishing.

There was the time when I was about 14 sleeping on the floor (14 year olds can sleep anywhere). He found a pheasant tail and kept lightly sticking it in my ear. Of course after much aggravation on my part and much laughing on his part, I finally woke up mad as can be at him. Over the years I have used the same trick many times on my own kids and I remember my Uncle.

With life so a miss at times, isn’t it great to have those people in our lives that give us ballast and help us steer a little straighter. Uncles and Aunts do that.

I have only so many stories

Often my children chide me for retelling my stories. I always have the same response. And frankly it is a pretty good one. “Now kids - a man has only so many stories and some are worth only telling once but there are those others that are worth telling over and over, so just be quite and listen.”
My kids were shaking their heads as I retold them the story of how their mother put the hussle on me before we were even dating. They rolled their eyes – there goes dad again. Does he not get it that he has told us this story before?
“You see. I was a catch. I mean it has to be true or why would she put the moves on me? I mean, that is just plain logical.” My son blabbered out. “Dad! We know the story and we are not going to believe it this time either. There is no way mom put any moves on you. I mean look at mom and look at you, does that make any sense at all?”
My oldest daughter pipes in “Yeah dad, you just said be logical, oh my goodness! And, besides mom would never do that.” Perception is reality.
Do you remember the days when your kids believed you? When they ran to meet you at the door, screaming daddy, daddy, hugging your neck? You could tell them anything and they would believe it. Oh yes, those were the days.
Continuing on with my story - “Excuse me? You just ask your mother, she will totally agree with me. So, do you mind if I continue?” She shook her head like I was crazy and began laughing. My son had put his head down ignoring me and began to work on his grill cheese sandwich. My oldest and son have many of the same thinking patterns. But my sweet, wonderful youngest daughter, she was also smiling but her smile was different, kind of dreamy like. “Dad, tell the story! I love it!” See how sweet she is?
If truth be told I believe all my children love hearing this story. What child does not want to hear the love story of their parents? Of course they do!
Well, I bet you are all dying to hear this story to. But a blog has to be kept short and I just don’t have the space. Maybe next time; stay tuned. Do you feel like you are watching, a game show and it just went to a commercial?

Tragedy...

Tragedy comes at very inopportune times and wears a number of faces, all of which are scary. Tragedy attacks the soul, the heart, courage, convictions, moral integrity, shredding a person’s core.
Confusion, despair, fear, anger, self indictments, what if’s, if only’s, hopelessness, cursing, anger at God, revenge, scheming, repairing, rebuilding, forgiveness, acceptance, developing a plan, embracing a course of action, hard work, sleepless nights, stress, worry, tears, more tears, more tears, praying for strength, praying for a mate, praying for children, questioning God, questioning the plan, pleading with God, a window of hope, determination, slight signs of progress, more hard work, more sleepless nights, more tears, signs of healing, signs of repair, believing in the plan, adjusting the plan, needing grace, giving grace…day after day, month after month, year after year.

Then one day sunlight glistens from new spring green, filtering through layers of leaf filled tree tops, catching the eye. I stop stunned it is – color –amazing color - today, this day, color broke past the gray.
How many years had the color been gone? To many.

Isaiah 43:1-6

But now, this is what the LORD says…

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior

-New International Version

Facebook and the Old Guy

Keeping track of our kids as they grow older and leave home is a challenge. I can remember when two cans on a string was pretty cool. I also remember those entertaining party lines. The day our family got our own phone line that was a bonus day. I am still bitter against that nosey neighbor lady who continually listened in as I talked to girls. Maybe, the party line back then was the equivalent of today’s reality TV.
I so digress where was I? Oh, yes, my kids. They talk about Facebook this and Facebook that. It sounds really quite interesting. I thought to myself hmmm…maybe I could get Facebook. I could keep up with what is going on in my kids lives, check in see who is dating who, if they are thinking about visiting old dad or maybe I would find out if one of them is sick and needs me just one more time. That probably won’t happen they are all so gosh darn capable.
Can I step off the trail for just a moment? There is one thing the infant adults do in my life that really bugs me. They will sit each with their lap tops in the same room Facebooking each other laughing and giggling, all the time while I am in the room. I have no idea what is being laughed about. It is like being in a room with two people who are speaking a foreign language and you know they are talking and laughing at you. Seems rude!
Back to the Facebook conundrum should I or should I not get a Facebook account? I brought it up the other day to my daughter – okay maybe it was a year or so ago. “Daughter what do you think about your dad getting a Facebook account? We could Facebook each other.” Nothing but silence for several seconds, she just stared at me. “Dad… that would be just creepy. Facebook is for young people it is not for people over 30.” Her body does like a horrifying shiver thing. “Definitely not! that would be way to weird and really creepy.”
Not ready to give up I decided to try a new angle “Well what if I just got an account and only visited your site, read what is going on in your life. You know keep connected. I wouldn’t have to write anything I understand you wouldn’t want your friends reading our stuff.”
“First off Dad, you would have to request to be my friend to see my Facebook page and I simply would not accept you as a friend.”
Did I really hear that right? Block me? I am her dad. I held her until she stopped crying after those bad dreams, skinned knees, hurt feelings, and endless other hurts. Block me? D’OH!
Someone said something like this: Embrace the season of life you are in. It is a waste of effort to try to reach backward and it is fruitless to try to reach forward. Each season has its own beauty and value. Once it is gone you cannot get it back. The season of life you are now in has plenty to fill your life with wonder, excitement, and opportunity. I have given up on the idea of having my own Facebook account. But I mean to ask my kids if they going to close their Facebook accounts on their 30th birthday? Maybe then I will stop being excluded.

Creepy Blogs

Today, as I was driving, I thought about how this blogging stuff is kind of creepy. I mean you are putting things about yourself in a public place. Sure, they are exaggerated but heck if they weren’t who would read them. Most of us are fairly boring and most of our stories are really quite regular. It seems logical that one would need to add some color here and there. Seriously, isn’t black and white pretty much dead?
To some degree and maybe a large degree isn’t blogging being slightly an exhibitionist? And isn’t that creepy? I have this slight nagging tinge pulling that thread attached to the self perseveration part of my soul that says someday you will wake up to something you posted and it will be really bad.
Great! Now I am probably going to have nightmares. D'OH!

Me Being Me...

I have been married for 35 years now and yes to the same woman – Gee, you are so suspicious – Stop it!
Early on in our marriage there were times especially that first year, oh right that third year, you think the seventh year too? Really? Oh my gosh, if that’s true than I have lost count after that. Regardless, I was just being me and she would take issue with me being me. What is that about anyway? Well, apparently, me being me was at times a problem, how would you say it? Hmm…anger isn’t really the right word. Fury maybe overstates it, rage certainly is an exaggeration (she is very controlled), annoyed is simply way understating it, exasperated may be the best adjective. Regardless, maybe you get a visual of her feelings toward me for me just being me. By the way, when me being me is not acceptable it is hard on the fragile male ego – just thought I would throw that out there. At the time I thought it was just PMS or some other woman thing, right? Who knows and who cares. Isn’t that just a woman being a woman and are we men really supposed to try and figure that all out? I’m so glad you agree with me – sometimes it gets so lonely.
I guess one of my wife’s methods of coping with, me being me, was while I was asleep having wonderful utopia filled dreams of her and me holding hands frolicking naked on a beach on a deserted island, (Sorry, I know that visual just traumatize my adult children) she was furiously working off her exasperation of me being me, cleaning the house in the middle of the night. Well all that house cleaning was oblivious to me. I just figured we were a really clean couple and when once two people are in love – magic happens. Still seems kind of reasonable to me.
Well many days have passed since that first episode of me being me occurred. I would argue that I have changed considerably. It took sometime but I could see how me being me was not really the best approach for the long hull. Okay, we need to stop right here for one small interlude - just to be fair - she might see this a little differently than I do. In fact when me being me becomes too prominent she can be quite clear about how little I have learned, which of course is totally not true.
Just so you know that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.