the morning after
in the immortal words of marty mcfly, last week was "heavy". an unexpected accident results in tragedy. thinking back, i can't really remember something akin to last week since the death of my mom's dad almost fifteen years ago. my granddaddy fell victim to a heart attack. he didn't have serious health problems and his passing was every bit as surprising as gerry's. i know i reacted to his death differently. i grieved differently. i remember thinking it was weird that i couldn't muster up a tear to save my life at his wake and funeral. as destroyed as my mother was and even my younger brother brian (who was much closer to him than i) to a lesser degree, i knew i was supposed to be upset. i was supposed to be crying. i just couldn't. not to say that i wasn't upset. i was. it just didn't rip me apart like i felt like it should have. maybe i internalized the whole thing. i don't know. the reason i bring this up was that last week and dealing with gerry's death felt very similar. when i heard the news from donna sunday morning, i told her that i was glad to have heard before i arrived, because i could get my crying out in the car on the way to church. but the tears never came. i wanted to cry along with rick and the choir members wiping away their bleeding mascara, but i suppose it just wasn't time to do that for me. when i shared the news with sarah, i could hear in her voice how upset she was, and i wondered why i couldn't be that obvious with my sense of loss. what was going on with me?
what was it about the death of peggy ferrara that made me boo-hoo like a little girl? in the grand scheme of things, if i were to rank the important people in my life, peggy would've have been on the list, but my granddaddy would've been higher. gerry would have been much higher. was it that she checked on me every time she walked past my office on the way to hers? was it that she claimed me as one of her own? i don't know. but i remember feeling like i couldn't turn it off at her memorial service. no matter how hard i tried to hold back my emotion, it just kept coming in waves. i remember the awkward look on my dad's face that day as i turned and saw him. he comforted me the only way he knew how, but i don't think he got it. i don't know if i get it.
last week was weird for me in that i kept waiting for the "wave" to hit me. i thought that writing about him last wednesday would be the tipping point, but it wasn't. it was cathartic, but no tears. what was going on with me? i still didn't understand. i still don't. did i internalize this too? swallow it up, unknowingly, only for it to hit me one day while listening to sports talk radio in the car and having to pull over because i am a blubbering fool (this has only happened to me once.).
i am not big on crying. a lot of people know this. it's not something macho like "real men don't cry" or anything like that. it's just that i like to be in control, and somewhere along the years i decided that crying meant you weren't in control. maybe you're not. maybe that's the point. i don't know. for as long as i can remember, i have only "lost control" in this regard one time. at peggy's funeral. i know i loved peggy, but not like i loved gerry. not like i loved granddaddy. maybe something hit me during that service and i gave myself permission to let 20 some-odd years worth of hurt out all at one time. who knows.
i felt better about all this last thursday at gerry's memorial service. because sometime during the beautiful service, the "wave" hit me. my eyes welled up. my throat started to close and my stomach started to cramp. if i hit the "go" button, i could've done the blubbering fool thing right then and there. but i didn't. i don't know why exactly. maybe i wanted to be strong for sarah who was already borderline blubbering fool herself. maybe it just wasn't time for me to let another few years worth of hurt out. maybe because if i had pressed the "go" button, it would've been about something more than him, and i didn't want it to be. gerry no longer being around caused the "wave" that i had been waiting for. i'll deal with the rest later. rest in peace, gerry.
it's time to move back to the more trivial.
maybe next time, i can tell you (again) about what a complete and utter failure as a basketball coach mark gottfried is.
or we can talk about "the jesus tomb".
or maybe talk about how i can't wait to see the new david fincher movie about a serial killer.
we'll see.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
dear hannah,
you won't remember gerry hearin, but you'll hear about him from mommy and daddy
(hannah and me, part twenty-one)
everything about the death of gerry hearin screams tragedy. he and his wife, hoping to catch an alabama basketball game together, arrive too late. because game traffic on paul bryant has thinned out, traffic is moving at it's usual pace. gerry and june attempt to cross the street. june makes it. gerry doesn't. as a result of the terrible accident, gerry is no longer with us and june is without a husband, a daughter is without a father, grandkids are without their grandfather, and a church is without it's heart too soon. make no mistake, the heart of huffman united methodist church was gerry hearin. and on saturday night, that heart was ripped from our collective chest. everything about the death of gerry hearin screams tragedy, and everything about the accident makes you want to be mad and find someone to blame. so, why am i not mad today? why am i not looking for revenge? justice? because, folks, gerry wouldn't have it. gerry knew tragedy. he knew hard times. he had lived through more than his share of both. and he always swung back at the tragedy and hard times with a positive outlook that could only be described in two ways. superhuman. or gerry. there are many reasons that i will miss gerry. here are a few.
* he was a champion of me. selfishly i start here, because when i think of gerry, i think of this story first. the staff of huffman united methodist church during the charles lee era would attest (maybe not publicly) that charles lee was notoriously, how do you say, unpredictable when it came to his attitude upon arriving at staff meetings. i always thought that there were three sides of charles lee. his public face. the big, huggable, aw-shucks pastor of the people. the "i am only here to help you" persona that was as genuine as my hair is long. when he showed up in this mode, we knew it'd be a short and sweet meeting. he was having a good day or had other places he wanted to be, so we moved along quite swiftly. there was also disinterested charles lee. the charles lee that, had you been an outsider, you would have been amazed that this guy was the pastor of this church. would hardly say a word. would wear a look on his face that said "i would rather be having my nose-hairs pulled than be here." would hardly ever make eye contact with the staff members making their reports. this persona, too, would also indicate a short meeting. and then, there was charles lee, the dick. this was the charles lee that we, as a staff, were happy to wish good luck and good riddance to when he left huffman. he was mean. he was condescending. the church was a "failure" and it was the staff's fault. this charles lee knew best. shared his (sometimes completely idiotic) ideas and expected us to be (yes) men and women about it and knod approvingly. most of the time, charles lee, the dick, arriving would mean that it was going to be a long day at the office. intense. grating. redundant. these sessions would make us want to find tweezers for our own nose hair and start plucking. it would be less painful than these meetings. well, one day, toward the (unbeknownst to the staff at the time) end of his tenure, i stood up to charles lee, the dick. it was the first time this had happened in our meetings. i don't know if it had happened before. not surprisingly, i drew my analogy from sports and told charles that if he were to be the "coach" of our staff, he could not berate his "staff" when things were bad and not praise them when things were good. i told him that we were more than happy to be his supporters during the good times, but i didn't want to be his punching-bag on days when he was feeling heat. "the coach" gets to receive the trophies when we win, but he also has to accept his part of the blame when something doesn't work (among other things)...the table was silent. here i am, the youngest, by far, member of the staff, and i just stuck my neck out like never before. i was such an idiot. shortly after my speech, the meeting was dismissed. i knew i was in for it. i prayed that the dick wouldn't fire me and i walked, head down, toward my office. who was the first member of the staff to stop me before i walked up the stairs? gerry. he told me he was proud of me. he told me that i had only put into metaphor what everyone else was thinking. and he told me to not be afraid of the repercussions of my outburst. he and the staff would have my back. in just those few moments, i knew that i would be ok. sure, the conversation i had in charles lee's office was uncomfortable, but i always had gerry's words in the back of my head. if gerry was for me, who could be against me? over the lifespan of my time on staff at huffman, gerry was always one of my biggest fans and supporters and on more than one occasion gave me encouraging words when i made risky decisions that meant taking heat or more heat from parents. i have been honored to do many things in my life. to serve on staff with gerry hearin ranks very high on that list.
* he was a champion of my marriage. i could count on less than one hand (not including sarah's family, her friends, my friends, and my mom) the number of people that have come up to me, personally, and told me that they thought i was making a good and wonderful decision marrying sarah. gerry was one. he and june asked us every chance they got how we were doing. and every time they asked, we felt like they really wanted to know. i've mentioned before how i feel like making the person you are talking to feel like the most important person in the world (let alone the room) is a gift. if you were matching this gift to a face, it would be gerry's face.
* he was a champion of huffman united methodist church. back in the 80's, huffman was clearbranch. or north park. or (insert name of any church that every other church wants to be). we were the standard bearer. we were "the children's place". the place that every young family looking for a church home wanted to be. why? because of gerry, naturally. and other reasons i am sure. i know, from my personal experience, he had a damn fine children's director in the person of beloved pat whetstone. a great associate pastor. a great choir director. a great youth director. but the same goes for gerry as it did with charles lee. most of the credit goes to the man at the top. the man casting the vision. that man was gerry. great men have come and gone from huffman since gerry left, but none have been able to match his success. for better and (nowadays) for worse, we have not been able to escape his huge shadow. after his retirement, gerry could have done many things, but gerry came back to huffman. and served part-time on staff. and believed in the potential of huffman. and wanted huffman to be the best that it could be. he made huffman his home again. sadly, but very fittingly, he will be memorialized at huffman tomorrow afternoon.
* from the pulpit, he was a god. a legend. again, when it comes to my history at huffman, the standard-bearer. i wish i was old enough in the eighties to fully understand what a precious gift hearing gerry preach sunday after sunday truly was. after his retirement and coming back to huffman, his sermons became an event (at least in my mind). it was like seeing pedro pitch in person. or mike vick escaping the pocket. michael jordan in a playoff game. you stopped what you were doing and gave the man your undivided attention. i cannot stress how good he was at delivering a sermon. he didn't have to have a schtick. it wasn't a stand-up routine wrapped up with a calm voice and a nuget-y endpoint. he didn't have to be your grandfather (although you wished he was). he didn't have be play the "cute" card. he didn't have to play a role. he just spoke the message he felt God wanted him to deliver and that was good enough. why? because he was super-smart. super-intellectual. but he oozed life experience. and caring. and concern. and love. and because he was able to wrap all of those things together in a seamless package, you were hearing something you had never heard before. when he was "on his game" (and like the above athletes, he was more often than not) you left church feeling like you had just had a conversation with the Man himself. period.
* he was what a christian should be. those things that he oozed from pulpit? life experience, care, concern and love? it was easy for him. because that's who he was. all of those things. he loved his God. he loved Jesus. he understood his calling was to reciprocate God's favors to him back to the people he touched every day. did he have his flaws? i am sure he did. he was human. one thing that amazes me, though, is that i never felt like i saw one. i guess that's what you get when you run into a man that doesn't have to put a "nice face" on around people he doesn't like or get along with. you got the feeling that he just loved everybody.
i definitely got the feeling that he loved me, and i hate that i will never be able to tell him that. to personally tell him thank you for that day after staff. for giving me someone to look up to and strive to be like. for everything about him that will be remembered tonight, tomorrow, and for years to come.
hannah, you won't remember gerry. but your daddy loved him very much.
we'll miss you, gerry.
you won't remember gerry hearin, but you'll hear about him from mommy and daddy
(hannah and me, part twenty-one)
everything about the death of gerry hearin screams tragedy. he and his wife, hoping to catch an alabama basketball game together, arrive too late. because game traffic on paul bryant has thinned out, traffic is moving at it's usual pace. gerry and june attempt to cross the street. june makes it. gerry doesn't. as a result of the terrible accident, gerry is no longer with us and june is without a husband, a daughter is without a father, grandkids are without their grandfather, and a church is without it's heart too soon. make no mistake, the heart of huffman united methodist church was gerry hearin. and on saturday night, that heart was ripped from our collective chest. everything about the death of gerry hearin screams tragedy, and everything about the accident makes you want to be mad and find someone to blame. so, why am i not mad today? why am i not looking for revenge? justice? because, folks, gerry wouldn't have it. gerry knew tragedy. he knew hard times. he had lived through more than his share of both. and he always swung back at the tragedy and hard times with a positive outlook that could only be described in two ways. superhuman. or gerry. there are many reasons that i will miss gerry. here are a few.
* he was a champion of me. selfishly i start here, because when i think of gerry, i think of this story first. the staff of huffman united methodist church during the charles lee era would attest (maybe not publicly) that charles lee was notoriously, how do you say, unpredictable when it came to his attitude upon arriving at staff meetings. i always thought that there were three sides of charles lee. his public face. the big, huggable, aw-shucks pastor of the people. the "i am only here to help you" persona that was as genuine as my hair is long. when he showed up in this mode, we knew it'd be a short and sweet meeting. he was having a good day or had other places he wanted to be, so we moved along quite swiftly. there was also disinterested charles lee. the charles lee that, had you been an outsider, you would have been amazed that this guy was the pastor of this church. would hardly say a word. would wear a look on his face that said "i would rather be having my nose-hairs pulled than be here." would hardly ever make eye contact with the staff members making their reports. this persona, too, would also indicate a short meeting. and then, there was charles lee, the dick. this was the charles lee that we, as a staff, were happy to wish good luck and good riddance to when he left huffman. he was mean. he was condescending. the church was a "failure" and it was the staff's fault. this charles lee knew best. shared his (sometimes completely idiotic) ideas and expected us to be (yes) men and women about it and knod approvingly. most of the time, charles lee, the dick, arriving would mean that it was going to be a long day at the office. intense. grating. redundant. these sessions would make us want to find tweezers for our own nose hair and start plucking. it would be less painful than these meetings. well, one day, toward the (unbeknownst to the staff at the time) end of his tenure, i stood up to charles lee, the dick. it was the first time this had happened in our meetings. i don't know if it had happened before. not surprisingly, i drew my analogy from sports and told charles that if he were to be the "coach" of our staff, he could not berate his "staff" when things were bad and not praise them when things were good. i told him that we were more than happy to be his supporters during the good times, but i didn't want to be his punching-bag on days when he was feeling heat. "the coach" gets to receive the trophies when we win, but he also has to accept his part of the blame when something doesn't work (among other things)...the table was silent. here i am, the youngest, by far, member of the staff, and i just stuck my neck out like never before. i was such an idiot. shortly after my speech, the meeting was dismissed. i knew i was in for it. i prayed that the dick wouldn't fire me and i walked, head down, toward my office. who was the first member of the staff to stop me before i walked up the stairs? gerry. he told me he was proud of me. he told me that i had only put into metaphor what everyone else was thinking. and he told me to not be afraid of the repercussions of my outburst. he and the staff would have my back. in just those few moments, i knew that i would be ok. sure, the conversation i had in charles lee's office was uncomfortable, but i always had gerry's words in the back of my head. if gerry was for me, who could be against me? over the lifespan of my time on staff at huffman, gerry was always one of my biggest fans and supporters and on more than one occasion gave me encouraging words when i made risky decisions that meant taking heat or more heat from parents. i have been honored to do many things in my life. to serve on staff with gerry hearin ranks very high on that list.
* he was a champion of my marriage. i could count on less than one hand (not including sarah's family, her friends, my friends, and my mom) the number of people that have come up to me, personally, and told me that they thought i was making a good and wonderful decision marrying sarah. gerry was one. he and june asked us every chance they got how we were doing. and every time they asked, we felt like they really wanted to know. i've mentioned before how i feel like making the person you are talking to feel like the most important person in the world (let alone the room) is a gift. if you were matching this gift to a face, it would be gerry's face.
* he was a champion of huffman united methodist church. back in the 80's, huffman was clearbranch. or north park. or (insert name of any church that every other church wants to be). we were the standard bearer. we were "the children's place". the place that every young family looking for a church home wanted to be. why? because of gerry, naturally. and other reasons i am sure. i know, from my personal experience, he had a damn fine children's director in the person of beloved pat whetstone. a great associate pastor. a great choir director. a great youth director. but the same goes for gerry as it did with charles lee. most of the credit goes to the man at the top. the man casting the vision. that man was gerry. great men have come and gone from huffman since gerry left, but none have been able to match his success. for better and (nowadays) for worse, we have not been able to escape his huge shadow. after his retirement, gerry could have done many things, but gerry came back to huffman. and served part-time on staff. and believed in the potential of huffman. and wanted huffman to be the best that it could be. he made huffman his home again. sadly, but very fittingly, he will be memorialized at huffman tomorrow afternoon.
* from the pulpit, he was a god. a legend. again, when it comes to my history at huffman, the standard-bearer. i wish i was old enough in the eighties to fully understand what a precious gift hearing gerry preach sunday after sunday truly was. after his retirement and coming back to huffman, his sermons became an event (at least in my mind). it was like seeing pedro pitch in person. or mike vick escaping the pocket. michael jordan in a playoff game. you stopped what you were doing and gave the man your undivided attention. i cannot stress how good he was at delivering a sermon. he didn't have to have a schtick. it wasn't a stand-up routine wrapped up with a calm voice and a nuget-y endpoint. he didn't have to be your grandfather (although you wished he was). he didn't have be play the "cute" card. he didn't have to play a role. he just spoke the message he felt God wanted him to deliver and that was good enough. why? because he was super-smart. super-intellectual. but he oozed life experience. and caring. and concern. and love. and because he was able to wrap all of those things together in a seamless package, you were hearing something you had never heard before. when he was "on his game" (and like the above athletes, he was more often than not) you left church feeling like you had just had a conversation with the Man himself. period.
* he was what a christian should be. those things that he oozed from pulpit? life experience, care, concern and love? it was easy for him. because that's who he was. all of those things. he loved his God. he loved Jesus. he understood his calling was to reciprocate God's favors to him back to the people he touched every day. did he have his flaws? i am sure he did. he was human. one thing that amazes me, though, is that i never felt like i saw one. i guess that's what you get when you run into a man that doesn't have to put a "nice face" on around people he doesn't like or get along with. you got the feeling that he just loved everybody.
i definitely got the feeling that he loved me, and i hate that i will never be able to tell him that. to personally tell him thank you for that day after staff. for giving me someone to look up to and strive to be like. for everything about him that will be remembered tonight, tomorrow, and for years to come.
hannah, you won't remember gerry. but your daddy loved him very much.
we'll miss you, gerry.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
dwight howard is the man!!!
(from the depths of sin city does rise a new hero)
((ok, that's a little dramatic))
i know i am going to be jumping on the bandwagon here, but i can't help it. i have intentionally started my internet morning here to stay free from all the discourse and analysis and opinion on what had to be (HAD TO BE!!!) the coolest christian moment of 2007 so far. let me set it up...
(to my in-tune-with-sports subscribers, pardon me if some of this is retread.) dwight howard is one of my favorite players in the nba. he's a 7 foot man-child all-star center for the orlando magic. he's making the orlando magic matter again for the first time since shaq left town. he's a freaking beast. his body (also pardon the man love) is something to behold. there are two kinds of seven footers. one is the skinny, kevin garnett type that can play outside of the paint. the other is the yao ming type. the big, hulking space eater that spends most of their time in the paint or shooting short little ten-footers to extend the defense. dwight howard is different. he is a new breed. his physique his cut from stone. he is huge. i mean...huge. but he is lean at the same time. athletic. can run the floor. can shoot the j. can jump out of the gym. total package. one of the handful of guys in the nba that i'd pay just to see him in person. well, back to the story, dwight howard accepts an invite to participate in the dunk contest last night. immediately, he is at a disadvantage, because big men do not win this contest. for some reason, if you are tall, it is assumed you can dunk hard, so the judges seem to hold that against guys. isn't fair. just fact. dwight's going to change all that. he asks the commissioner of the league to raise the rim to 12 feet. 12 feet!!! he is denied. "would take too much time." sorry, can't do it. so, dwight has to be even more innovative. and he freaking comes through. to illustrate everything in his arsenal (height, reach, leap, athleticism), dwight pulls out the coolest dunk i've ever seen. he has a teammate toss the ball over the rim and dwight goes and gets it. he slaps the backboard with his left hand and throws the dunk down with his right. impressive at first. even moreso after a second look. in his left hand, howard was holding a sticker of himself. he had pasted it on the top of the backboard 12 feet, six inches above the earth. no. freaking. way. dude.
the dunk is lost on the judges. they are thinking to themselves, "good job, tall guy. way to touch the backboard. i guess we are to understand that you are tall. awesome. here's 42 points and a box of pop tarts as your going away prize. thanks, but no thanks." but they don't get it. the judges don't have replay (a huge flaw in the scoring system if you ask me). they just have to go on what they saw live. before their eyes. and they weren't impressed.
what their eyes didn't catch was the sticker, pasted on the backboard, with howard's picture and something scribbled in marker. the something scribbled? "all things through christ." "phil 4:13" how awesome is that? subtle, yet profound. an image that i will absolutely never forget. i can hope and pray that countless others fans of the nba and dwight howard also see the message and understand how effective this understated illustration of faith could be. it's too easy to be swallowed up by folks that are so aggressive in showing and sharing their faith that they might turn newcomers away. or oldcomers for that matter. it's too easy to read between the lines of a sunday morning sermon and see that the agenda is more personal politics than god. it's too easy to let the big "personalities" of faith convince you that if this guy is a leader of this "club", then i don't really want to join. and then there are moments like last night. small, almost silent moments when a very young man with a lot of power and money and influence gives credit where his faith leads him to understand the credit is due.
should dwight howard have won the dunk contest because of his "sticker dunk". no, but he should've at least advanced to the finals. might his sticker make more of an impact in the long run than any one public act a dunk champion of the last ten years has made? my guess is yes.
for me, a 30 year-old kid that knows he is about to go to a church service that will likely leave me wanting more, a 30 year-old that struggles every day to find answers to questions that are likely never to come, a 30 year old that feels, most of the time, that true christianity is borderline irrelevant, i can't thank dwight howard enough.
thanks for the moment of light, dwight. i needed it.
"phil 4:13".
(from the depths of sin city does rise a new hero)
((ok, that's a little dramatic))
i know i am going to be jumping on the bandwagon here, but i can't help it. i have intentionally started my internet morning here to stay free from all the discourse and analysis and opinion on what had to be (HAD TO BE!!!) the coolest christian moment of 2007 so far. let me set it up...
(to my in-tune-with-sports subscribers, pardon me if some of this is retread.) dwight howard is one of my favorite players in the nba. he's a 7 foot man-child all-star center for the orlando magic. he's making the orlando magic matter again for the first time since shaq left town. he's a freaking beast. his body (also pardon the man love) is something to behold. there are two kinds of seven footers. one is the skinny, kevin garnett type that can play outside of the paint. the other is the yao ming type. the big, hulking space eater that spends most of their time in the paint or shooting short little ten-footers to extend the defense. dwight howard is different. he is a new breed. his physique his cut from stone. he is huge. i mean...huge. but he is lean at the same time. athletic. can run the floor. can shoot the j. can jump out of the gym. total package. one of the handful of guys in the nba that i'd pay just to see him in person. well, back to the story, dwight howard accepts an invite to participate in the dunk contest last night. immediately, he is at a disadvantage, because big men do not win this contest. for some reason, if you are tall, it is assumed you can dunk hard, so the judges seem to hold that against guys. isn't fair. just fact. dwight's going to change all that. he asks the commissioner of the league to raise the rim to 12 feet. 12 feet!!! he is denied. "would take too much time." sorry, can't do it. so, dwight has to be even more innovative. and he freaking comes through. to illustrate everything in his arsenal (height, reach, leap, athleticism), dwight pulls out the coolest dunk i've ever seen. he has a teammate toss the ball over the rim and dwight goes and gets it. he slaps the backboard with his left hand and throws the dunk down with his right. impressive at first. even moreso after a second look. in his left hand, howard was holding a sticker of himself. he had pasted it on the top of the backboard 12 feet, six inches above the earth. no. freaking. way. dude.
the dunk is lost on the judges. they are thinking to themselves, "good job, tall guy. way to touch the backboard. i guess we are to understand that you are tall. awesome. here's 42 points and a box of pop tarts as your going away prize. thanks, but no thanks." but they don't get it. the judges don't have replay (a huge flaw in the scoring system if you ask me). they just have to go on what they saw live. before their eyes. and they weren't impressed.
what their eyes didn't catch was the sticker, pasted on the backboard, with howard's picture and something scribbled in marker. the something scribbled? "all things through christ." "phil 4:13" how awesome is that? subtle, yet profound. an image that i will absolutely never forget. i can hope and pray that countless others fans of the nba and dwight howard also see the message and understand how effective this understated illustration of faith could be. it's too easy to be swallowed up by folks that are so aggressive in showing and sharing their faith that they might turn newcomers away. or oldcomers for that matter. it's too easy to read between the lines of a sunday morning sermon and see that the agenda is more personal politics than god. it's too easy to let the big "personalities" of faith convince you that if this guy is a leader of this "club", then i don't really want to join. and then there are moments like last night. small, almost silent moments when a very young man with a lot of power and money and influence gives credit where his faith leads him to understand the credit is due.
should dwight howard have won the dunk contest because of his "sticker dunk". no, but he should've at least advanced to the finals. might his sticker make more of an impact in the long run than any one public act a dunk champion of the last ten years has made? my guess is yes.
for me, a 30 year-old kid that knows he is about to go to a church service that will likely leave me wanting more, a 30 year-old that struggles every day to find answers to questions that are likely never to come, a 30 year old that feels, most of the time, that true christianity is borderline irrelevant, i can't thank dwight howard enough.
thanks for the moment of light, dwight. i needed it.
"phil 4:13".
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
hannah makes everything better
(hannah and me, part twenty...naturally)
today was one of my "kevin can be an ass" kind of days. i woke up with a plan in my head as to how the day would play itself out. time on the computer. maybe blog. maybe just surf around. drink something with caffeine. let my body wake up. work out. lazy around 'til time to head into the store. nothing big. nothing out of the ordinary. but that was going to be my day. well, it took all the time to come downstairs and check my messages for all of that to change. sarah had left me a voice-mail telling me that hannah's valentine's day party (which we knew about and had prepared for) was something that parents were invited to (the part we didn't know about). nevermind that i had been to the church three times in the last two days and had left without this knowledge, but left without it i had. so, sarah is already up to her neck in work and asks if i can go and party with the baby girl. my initial reaction? hell no. my day was already planned!!! didn't you know that?!?!
"do you already have lunch plans?"
"well, no."
"so, what were going to do with your day?"
"...uh, work out."
"that's fine. i can just go and not work during lunch."
"fine. bye."
and so i hung up and was steaming. how dare something come up and throw off my completely boring plan for my day. it wasn't the party or hannah that i had an issue with. it was the daycare for not telling me about it. it was the not knowing earlier so i could have just started my pre-workout routine earlier and not feel rushed for time. it was, for lack of a better explanation, just me being a dick. i, at the very least, came to this realization and altered my plans. no time for the internet. i cleaned up in the work out room. got a mountain dew code red and headed upstairs.
then comes more good news. after my first series of reps were finished i glanced at my phone and saw that i missed a call while the music was up. i just assumed it was sarah calling to confirm the time of the party like i had asked her to do. well, it wasn't. it was one of hannah's teachers telling me that she had fallen this morning and bumped her face. those of you that know me know that this news was followed by a profanity-laced tirade barked to the walls and sending the workout-observing kitties back downstairs. how dare they let this happen to my little girl?!?! what are they doing??? the message ended by her telling me that hannah was ok and that she hoped to see me at the party.
oh...they would see me alright. the second and third parts of my workouts were as easy as they have been in weeks. my juices were (over)flowing at this point, and i all i wanted was to get to the school and ask the teachers why they weren't watching the class (at least hannah) more closely. oh...they would see me alright. (this is me being a dick, part two)
thankfully for everyone involved, the workout provided the release that my fury needed. by the time i was headed to the church, i was calm. i was just ready to check out hannah for any sort of symptoms that would lead me to believe we needed to take her to the doctor. and so i went in. and there was my little girl with her first real black eye. it was a pathetic little sight. her smiling from ear to ear because she had no idea i was coming to see her, but her right eye not opening quite as far as it usually does because of the swelling. i dropped to my knees. gave her a big hug. and asked her how she was. she was herself. happy. bubbly. ready to tell me all about how she fell down. hit her eye. got some ice that was very cold. and tell me that she was "ok daddy".
"are you sure you are ok?"
"daddy. i told you. i am O...K!!!"
"alright, alright."
i sat down with her and the rest of her class. only one other daddy made a short appearance and then left before we had lunch. i had tons of snotty, sweaty, clingy, disgusting other people's kids hanging all over me, but it was wonderful. it tickled hannah to see her friends using "that's my daddy" as a jungle gym, and we had a blast. one of her teachers prepared a feast for me and all the other parents that didn't show up. i felt bad that there was so much food but not so bad when she sent a plate of extras home for me and sarah. hannah and i shared mac and cheese, chicken wings, meatballs, deviled eggs and a cupcake. we shared some alone time while the cots were being put out. we shared a huge hug and kiss. and then i laid her down, gave her her kitty blanket, kissed her goodnight and i was gone.
it was never hannah that upset me this morning. it was never any one thing. i've always struggled with having one thing in my head and then having to adjust when that plan is changed for whatever reason. but after leaving her, being or feeling like a dick twice this morning seems that much more silly. hannah makes everything better. and she doesn't even have to try.
thanks for the valentine's day memory, baby girl. you're the best.
a quick update from the last post: remember colin cowherd, the espn talk radio host that called southerners "tornado bait" and backed it up by saying that we could choose where we live? sarah gave me this nugget of news yesterday. the bad weather that came through birmingham yesterday also came through new orleans and spun off a few tornadoes. the only fatality from those storms? an older woman living in a trailor she was given after katrina took her home. i guess she should've "chosen" somewhere else to live, huh colin? i hope you hear this and feel like a douchebag, douchebag.
(hannah and me, part twenty...naturally)
today was one of my "kevin can be an ass" kind of days. i woke up with a plan in my head as to how the day would play itself out. time on the computer. maybe blog. maybe just surf around. drink something with caffeine. let my body wake up. work out. lazy around 'til time to head into the store. nothing big. nothing out of the ordinary. but that was going to be my day. well, it took all the time to come downstairs and check my messages for all of that to change. sarah had left me a voice-mail telling me that hannah's valentine's day party (which we knew about and had prepared for) was something that parents were invited to (the part we didn't know about). nevermind that i had been to the church three times in the last two days and had left without this knowledge, but left without it i had. so, sarah is already up to her neck in work and asks if i can go and party with the baby girl. my initial reaction? hell no. my day was already planned!!! didn't you know that?!?!
"do you already have lunch plans?"
"well, no."
"so, what were going to do with your day?"
"...uh, work out."
"that's fine. i can just go and not work during lunch."
"fine. bye."
and so i hung up and was steaming. how dare something come up and throw off my completely boring plan for my day. it wasn't the party or hannah that i had an issue with. it was the daycare for not telling me about it. it was the not knowing earlier so i could have just started my pre-workout routine earlier and not feel rushed for time. it was, for lack of a better explanation, just me being a dick. i, at the very least, came to this realization and altered my plans. no time for the internet. i cleaned up in the work out room. got a mountain dew code red and headed upstairs.
then comes more good news. after my first series of reps were finished i glanced at my phone and saw that i missed a call while the music was up. i just assumed it was sarah calling to confirm the time of the party like i had asked her to do. well, it wasn't. it was one of hannah's teachers telling me that she had fallen this morning and bumped her face. those of you that know me know that this news was followed by a profanity-laced tirade barked to the walls and sending the workout-observing kitties back downstairs. how dare they let this happen to my little girl?!?! what are they doing??? the message ended by her telling me that hannah was ok and that she hoped to see me at the party.
oh...they would see me alright. the second and third parts of my workouts were as easy as they have been in weeks. my juices were (over)flowing at this point, and i all i wanted was to get to the school and ask the teachers why they weren't watching the class (at least hannah) more closely. oh...they would see me alright. (this is me being a dick, part two)
thankfully for everyone involved, the workout provided the release that my fury needed. by the time i was headed to the church, i was calm. i was just ready to check out hannah for any sort of symptoms that would lead me to believe we needed to take her to the doctor. and so i went in. and there was my little girl with her first real black eye. it was a pathetic little sight. her smiling from ear to ear because she had no idea i was coming to see her, but her right eye not opening quite as far as it usually does because of the swelling. i dropped to my knees. gave her a big hug. and asked her how she was. she was herself. happy. bubbly. ready to tell me all about how she fell down. hit her eye. got some ice that was very cold. and tell me that she was "ok daddy".
"are you sure you are ok?"
"daddy. i told you. i am O...K!!!"
"alright, alright."
i sat down with her and the rest of her class. only one other daddy made a short appearance and then left before we had lunch. i had tons of snotty, sweaty, clingy, disgusting other people's kids hanging all over me, but it was wonderful. it tickled hannah to see her friends using "that's my daddy" as a jungle gym, and we had a blast. one of her teachers prepared a feast for me and all the other parents that didn't show up. i felt bad that there was so much food but not so bad when she sent a plate of extras home for me and sarah. hannah and i shared mac and cheese, chicken wings, meatballs, deviled eggs and a cupcake. we shared some alone time while the cots were being put out. we shared a huge hug and kiss. and then i laid her down, gave her her kitty blanket, kissed her goodnight and i was gone.
it was never hannah that upset me this morning. it was never any one thing. i've always struggled with having one thing in my head and then having to adjust when that plan is changed for whatever reason. but after leaving her, being or feeling like a dick twice this morning seems that much more silly. hannah makes everything better. and she doesn't even have to try.
thanks for the valentine's day memory, baby girl. you're the best.
a quick update from the last post: remember colin cowherd, the espn talk radio host that called southerners "tornado bait" and backed it up by saying that we could choose where we live? sarah gave me this nugget of news yesterday. the bad weather that came through birmingham yesterday also came through new orleans and spun off a few tornadoes. the only fatality from those storms? an older woman living in a trailor she was given after katrina took her home. i guess she should've "chosen" somewhere else to live, huh colin? i hope you hear this and feel like a douchebag, douchebag.
Friday, February 09, 2007
i tend to "fixate" on things, and today, it's why i can't shake this "i am dizzy" feeling
(a deathdream kind of day)
my go-to prognosis for whenever anything is "off", physically, with my body is that i have a tumor. maybe it's a tumor that is causing me to feel dizzy this morning. i felt it earlier in the week too and it went away. maybe the tumor is growing. maybe it's the tumor pressing against a nerve in my neck or upper back that is the cause for this perpetual crick that i can't get rid of. i can't go to a doctor everytime i think i am dying. that would be too expensive. but, damn, i get tired of thinking that i have one foot in the grave every other week. my crooked teeth and receding hairline i can deal with. being the target of something more, how do you say, life-threatening? well, i just gave myself chillbumps again. i am going to stop. stupid grey's anatomy. joseph, i can't watch house. if i watched another medical drama, i would have to just check myself into an insane asylum.
aside from all that, i've been away from writing for almost two weeks. not away from the site. i check it obsessively, if for no other reason than i still like the new colors. but, i decided to let my last post marinate a little longer than usual. it was a pretty big one. but now, it's time to move on. time to move from announcing the baby to chronicling the journey of having our second child. and explaining it to hannah. wow. should be interesting.
since my last post, not a ton has gone on. a short review of the last ten days (in no particular order):
- super bowl party with the kikers and the rickles (all of them). fun was had. food was eaten. the result that our crowd was looking for was gained. i love peyton, but he can thank (in order) rex grossman, joseph addai and dominic rhodes for pulling the monkey off his back. not that peyton was bad. he managed the game well. but he didn't win it. he had help.
- signing day came and went, and what do you know, alabama did pretty good. some decent skill guys, some big guys, a quarterback to battle for the spot behind jp. on paper, things are looking up. nick saban rattled all sorts of cages on the recruiting trail and got killed for calling a group of people "coonasses". meanwhile, a nationally syndicated radio host (and saban Hater with a capital "h") got away with calling people in the south "tornado bait". his defense? people can't change their ethnicity, but they can choose where they live?!?! brilliant. so, you heard it southerners. if you are unhappy living in the south, just move to san diego. what? what do you mean that would be expensive? oh, that's right. espn's colin cowherd must have meant to say, "if you don't like where you live and you make a lot of money, you can choose where you live." idiot.
- i almost broke my right big toe walking down the stairs. i am not kidding. maybe the tumor is affecting my motor skills too.
- hannah and i kicked it without mommy (first time in a while), who was working late, last night. had dinner with marie and joseph, which was fun. good times. good times.
- played my last game of the basketball season and went off (sure we lost, but i went off. that's what's important.).
- last, but not least. lost returned!!! incredible episode that hopefully sets the stage for a kick-butt next fifteen weeks. speaking of haters, a lot of folks are turning away from lost it seems. i have to admit, it's frustrated me too. but this week reminded me that when done right, there cannot be a better hour-long show on television. you can bring me your 24. you can give me your house. your grey's anatomy. this is the standard-bearer. has to be.
well, thirty minutes later, my head isn't spinning quite as bad, but i still feel off. it's one of those days that i am looking forward to getting to work, so just in case i fall out, somebody will be around to call 911.
three cheers for fear. hip, hip. hooray. hip, hip. hooray. hip, hip. hooray.
(a deathdream kind of day)
my go-to prognosis for whenever anything is "off", physically, with my body is that i have a tumor. maybe it's a tumor that is causing me to feel dizzy this morning. i felt it earlier in the week too and it went away. maybe the tumor is growing. maybe it's the tumor pressing against a nerve in my neck or upper back that is the cause for this perpetual crick that i can't get rid of. i can't go to a doctor everytime i think i am dying. that would be too expensive. but, damn, i get tired of thinking that i have one foot in the grave every other week. my crooked teeth and receding hairline i can deal with. being the target of something more, how do you say, life-threatening? well, i just gave myself chillbumps again. i am going to stop. stupid grey's anatomy. joseph, i can't watch house. if i watched another medical drama, i would have to just check myself into an insane asylum.
aside from all that, i've been away from writing for almost two weeks. not away from the site. i check it obsessively, if for no other reason than i still like the new colors. but, i decided to let my last post marinate a little longer than usual. it was a pretty big one. but now, it's time to move on. time to move from announcing the baby to chronicling the journey of having our second child. and explaining it to hannah. wow. should be interesting.
since my last post, not a ton has gone on. a short review of the last ten days (in no particular order):
- super bowl party with the kikers and the rickles (all of them). fun was had. food was eaten. the result that our crowd was looking for was gained. i love peyton, but he can thank (in order) rex grossman, joseph addai and dominic rhodes for pulling the monkey off his back. not that peyton was bad. he managed the game well. but he didn't win it. he had help.
- signing day came and went, and what do you know, alabama did pretty good. some decent skill guys, some big guys, a quarterback to battle for the spot behind jp. on paper, things are looking up. nick saban rattled all sorts of cages on the recruiting trail and got killed for calling a group of people "coonasses". meanwhile, a nationally syndicated radio host (and saban Hater with a capital "h") got away with calling people in the south "tornado bait". his defense? people can't change their ethnicity, but they can choose where they live?!?! brilliant. so, you heard it southerners. if you are unhappy living in the south, just move to san diego. what? what do you mean that would be expensive? oh, that's right. espn's colin cowherd must have meant to say, "if you don't like where you live and you make a lot of money, you can choose where you live." idiot.
- i almost broke my right big toe walking down the stairs. i am not kidding. maybe the tumor is affecting my motor skills too.
- hannah and i kicked it without mommy (first time in a while), who was working late, last night. had dinner with marie and joseph, which was fun. good times. good times.
- played my last game of the basketball season and went off (sure we lost, but i went off. that's what's important.).
- last, but not least. lost returned!!! incredible episode that hopefully sets the stage for a kick-butt next fifteen weeks. speaking of haters, a lot of folks are turning away from lost it seems. i have to admit, it's frustrated me too. but this week reminded me that when done right, there cannot be a better hour-long show on television. you can bring me your 24. you can give me your house. your grey's anatomy. this is the standard-bearer. has to be.
well, thirty minutes later, my head isn't spinning quite as bad, but i still feel off. it's one of those days that i am looking forward to getting to work, so just in case i fall out, somebody will be around to call 911.
three cheers for fear. hip, hip. hooray. hip, hip. hooray. hip, hip. hooray.
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