Tag: parenting

What do you see?

theycallmebetty3 Comments

What do you see when you look at me?

It’s ok, go ahead, I’m sure I have heard it all either to my face or behind my back.

What do you see???

A 54 year old man that some would argue is well past his prime? Kind when he wants to be or grumpy, selfish and maybe a bit of an asshole?

What do you see when you look into my eyes?

Green coloring, dullness and exhaustion. Anger, exasperation, or disdain?

Blank, kind or idiocy?

How do you judge me as I walk your way?

Cocky, still strong, or broken and gimpy?

Or do I seem just stiff and slow?

Who are you?

Are you a perfect human being?

Who are you to judge me at all?

Who are you to say anything about my life, how it’s lived or how I may appear.

Are you that much better at life than I?

Have you taken a moment to see life through my eyes? To understand before touting your opinion for all to hear?

Have you walked a mile in my shoes?

I am a 54 year old man this is true.

54 long hard years that I will never let define me but years none the less that definitely explain a little about who I am.

You may say I am old, you may see me as past my prime yet I say nay. With age comes wisdom, life lessons and most importantly; perspective.

Looking into my tired crows feet encased eyes.

The green in my eyes used to shine quite brightly. Fed by the devil inside and a need for constant mischief they are now mellowed, tempered, colder, and see things, habits, and people much, much clearer. They still gleam now and again with the sparkle of a child or with the heat of desire, but do not take their stony gaze for granted as they are still sharp and alive.

When I walk toward you I will always greet you with open arms and a smile. I will take you in as one of my own and if you are willing to listen regale you with wisdom from years gone by. It’s just my way.

I may look stiff and slow, and in some ways I truly am. Injuries from years past haven taken its toll on my slowly aging body. A life or death surgery, replacing my aorta with a synthetic tube. The loss of a gallbladder along with a few broken bones, torn muscles, shattered shoulders, knees, burns and scars. Calculating movements brought about by years of being trampled and shit on both physically and emotionally.

I carry with me the weight of so many deaths, families broken, spouses, children, teenagers, mothers, fathers, brothers/sisters, grandparents and friends. Lives snuffed from this earth, witnessed during my long and eventful career in the fire service.

Two wives, women I loved who were my life. Their lives taken way to soon, leaving behind hurting children and families, nothing modern medicine could do to save them. A void left behind that sits like a black mark on my brain. Yet each day I put both feet on the floor and take that all important step forward, trying hard to never be weighed down by life, experiences and the injustices it may bring.

How could you know?

How could you know as you judge me that I believe life is always best lived. That I know better than most our days are numbered and we should live, love and laugh every second of every moment of every day.

How could you know from your platform of judgment, I believe we do this gift of life a serious injustice by neglecting to do just that.

How could you know that after all I have been through and seen, I still carry enough love in my heart for more. Much, much more.

More love for my children, more love for my true friends, more love for new friends, more love and adoration for someone very special in my life, who I choose to love wholeheartedly. A woman who deserves every single bit of the love I have to share.

These people I love are my kingdom and I would fight to the death to protect each and every one of them.

How could you know that I am always looking to share.

Share my knowledge, share my charity, share my emotions, share my passions, share my fears, share my laughter, share a hug.

What do you see when you look at me?

Look hard.

It’s ok.

For someday I will be gone.

I won’t be sad.

I will die like so many before me.

It is the nature of the game.

But I will do so on my terms, with a smile on my face, and those I have loved so, will know they were loved in return.

I will no longer be here to care what you see.

And no matter what you see or your opinion, I will have been filled with more life and love than any one man rightly deserves.

That my friends is a life well lived.

So what do you see?

Better yet, what do you see in yourself?

It’s important for you to know.

I have become an electronic zombie

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It breaks my heart when I see people wasting or frittering away their lives. 

So wrapped up in our own self importance, worried about what we believe others will think about how we look, act or react to life around us that we fail to just recognize and appreciate our own self worth.

The internet and social media warping words, bending the truth and consistently bombarding us with so many personal, social and irrelevant issues we can no longer begin to comprehend, let alone handle our own problems without creating a public spectacle. 

Anger, hate and disgust for all creeps like an elephant, thundering, shaking as it pours from our fingers tips for all to see. 

Our lives driven constantly by an emotion not of our doing, but created for our undying attention or entertainment as we stare into the handheld zombie sucking dry what remains of an ability to think for ourselves. 

Our lives, locked in a box that lets us go nowhere, do nothing without a thread, status update, like or post. A neural overload of useless information with no basis in reality, only assumption and lust. 

When you die, and you will, does it really matter how many “likes” you obtained? Will you have lived life for you, or for what you believe others want to see? Can you lay your head down for the last time knowing you made a positive difference in the world? Were you a catalyst for change or as stated above did you fritter it all away, for nothing? 

Stop living your lives through the falsehoods of others, attached to half truths and lies perpetrated upon your unwavering electronic devotion. 

Go out and live! Experience, create a personal, exceptional, positive narrative that bathes your inner soul. For to feast solely on what you are being fed by others can only lead to starvation, to a lack of fulfillment. 

We as a society seem to have forgotten what a gift this thing called life really is and trust me when I say; it’s to late once it’s gone. 

I have become an electronic zombie

theycallmebetty5 Comments

It breaks my heart when I see people wasting or frittering away their lives. 

So wrapped up in our own self importance, worried about what we believe others will think about how we look, act or react to life around us that we fail to just recognize and appreciate our own self worth.

The internet and social media warping words, bending the truth and consistently bombarding us with so many personal, social and irrelevant issues we can no longer begin to comprehend, let alone handle our own problems without creating a public spectacle. 

Anger, hate and disgust for all creeps like an elephant, thundering, shaking as it pours from our fingers tips for all to see. 

Our lives driven constantly by an emotion not of our doing, but created for our undying attention or entertainment as we stare into the handheld zombie sucking dry what remains of an ability to think for ourselves. 

Our lives, locked in a box that lets us go nowhere, do nothing without a thread, status update, like or post. A neural overload of useless information with no basis in reality, only assumption and lust. 

When you die, and you will, does it really matter how many “likes” you obtained? Will you have lived life for you, or for what you believe others want to see? Can you lay your head down for the last time knowing you made a positive difference in the world? Were you a catalyst for change or as stated above did you fritter it all away, for nothing? 

Stop living your lives through the falsehoods of others, attached to half truths and lies perpetrated upon your unwavering electronic devotion. 

Go out and live! Experience, create a personal, exceptional, positive narrative that bathes your inner soul. For to feast solely on what you are being fed by others can only lead to starvation, to a lack of fulfillment. 

We as a society seem to have forgotten what a gift this thing called life really is and trust me when I say; it’s to late once it’s gone. 

Parenting is hands down the hardest most thankless job, yet I have always wanted to be a dad.

theycallmebetty7 Comments

I am constantly panicking.

Being a parent is hands down the hardest job any human will ever hold and yet I have always known that I wanted to be a dad. When I was younger I can remember always thinking; when I am a dad things will be different! As if parental wisdom had been bestowed upon me at birth. What a joke, right? But strangely I still knew.

What the hell was I thinking?

These creatures produced through the magic of birth (yes I know how they were created I took part in the process) can bring us so much joy, but just like the picture perfect families we portray upon our Facebook pages there is the dirty underside no one sees that also exists. They test us to our emotional limits from the second we hold their little, chubby, cherub frames. Oh they get away with a lot at first, I mean come on it’s a slobbering, pooping, peeing machine with no real concept of right or wrong. One smile, one drool, one gurgled word and it is all over for us! We turn into puddles of loving goo!   But as they grow older their sponge like minds absorb, evolve, become wiser and learn quickly how to turn the tables on us every chance they get!

Fast forward a few years and they are teenagers

The hardest part of parenting is not the monotonous daily routines. Yes getting a child to rise from bed every day is a pain in the ass! What is especially frustrating is when it’s a hunting or fishing day, then that same child miraculously doesn’t need an alarm clock to rise, dress, pack a lunch and be ready to go at 4 am. Also struggling with homework, cleaning their rooms, getting them to come home on time, and not only do their chores but do them well will always be difficult! No the hardest part of parenting is watching your child stroll down the same life path you chose, unless you are of course incredibly successful, then NONE of this will make sense to you!!!! Where was I? Oh now I remember! Even though you have done everything humanly possible to keep them from traveling that rocky road, you nudge them, guide them, you flat out at times push them with all the force you can muster. They do it anyways and it is very painful to say the least.

I have always tried my hardest to teach our children from my mistakes. If you read this blog on more than one occasion then you know I am very open about my past. Teenage years sneaking out of the house, staying out all night, never telling my parents where I was and not caring about the retribution that awaited upon my return. At 16 I thought I knew it all. I had a truck which meant freedom and I no longer needed anyone’s advice. My nights were filled partying with my friends, drinking way too much, and throwing the middle finger to the rules and requirements of a 16 year old boy. I was a child of the eighties and damn proud of it!

My parents on the other hand, not so pleased. I put them through hell. Not quite sure when my father officially gave up on me but he did. Many nights I am sure they worried about where I was or what I was doing, but these were the days of no cell phones, no abilities to track my location and since I refused to adhere or conform I am sure at some point they just became numb. Now on the flip side, my dad knew every cop/Sherriff/CHP officer in town because they all ate at his restaurant. So the only consolation I have for my horrible behavior is these guys were constantly keeping tabs on either my green 64 Chevy or my blue 81 Chevy. Still no excuse for my lack of respect or behavior.

Yes I was a problem, yes my parents let me know I was a problem as they well should have, but what’s killing me is the thought of history repeating itself. All that time screwing off cost me big! All that time chasing others dreams and never having any of my own ruined my youth, all that time thinking only of myself and not others took me years to acknowledge and reverse course. All of my raging against the machine, living life the way I wanted while taking no responsibility for myself or my actions robbed me of much deeper experiences in life. I quite literally fucked myself over and I regret every moment or decision to this day! Where others talk about how great the old days were, I think; yeah it was fun, I did have experiences, but at what cost? While others regale themselves in stories of grandeur, I look at them and think, well at least you were able to do it all and finish your education, follow your dreams, live life before life ran you over. I was not. As others recount the amazing friendships they made along the way, I wonder just how many I ruined by traveling constantly to the next best thing? I was always trying so hard to be something besides myself that I never even found out who I was! I followed friend after friend’s dreams instead of having any of my own. If I was dating you, I supported your aspirations or at least helped you if I could but never found who or what I wanted to become. When things got tough, I found it easier to drink, become someone else and hide behind the hatred I had for myself because I felt I was too stupid to accomplish anything on my own. Of course you would never know that because rest assured I would tell you in conversation just how smart I was or how something should be handled. Why? Because I was terrified you would see right through me. And as one would expect, on more than one occasion people I cared about did, driving them away. It made me sad.

These are things that happen to a young man when left to his own devices.

I see this in the young men that come through our fire academies. I spot the frauds a mile away because I was one. I can tell when you are at the end of your rope and feeling like a failure while hiding behind bravado, whether you know it or not you stand out like a sore thumb. When I see you, I am immediately drawn to you and depending on how our five minute conversation goes I know whether or not you are ready for assistance. I still try.

These are skills that I have acquired over the 32 years since I was considered a young man. I want to help you so bad! I want you to see the value in yourself, because if you don’t see it how will another? I want you to know you are not alone, an angry ship fighting against a raging sea of phony social expectations. You need to do you, but you need to find out so desperately who you are, what you want to become and then YOU need to grab ahold and make it happen! No one else is going to do it for you! You can never succeed off others aspirations, others actions or dreams and without knowing who you are it becomes even harder to find those dreams and make them a reality.

I say these things and yet it feels as though it never makes a difference. Maybe my words are heard, maybe some of this sets in and changes are made. Maybe.

But I know this, I am angry at the time lost. I am bitter about never finishing my education, I cannot stand the fact that I am ten years behind the curve in life due to choices I made, and I feel as though there is so much more for me out in this world than what I am experiencing. Aren’t those the important lessons that our youth should learn? Shouldn’t these lessons of failure help shape a positive future for them to adhere too? Shouldn’t they understand the pain and sorrow that comes from making the very same mistakes over and over and over again without a course adjustment? Shouldn’t my word be enough to turn that tide of brazen youth and re-hone it into a productive, active young person who freely understands the risks, the hard work and the just rewards for chasing YOUR dreams and not the dreams of others? Shouldn’t they look into my eyes, judge the wrinkles of sadness and lost opportunity and realize instinctively that I speak the truth? Because god damn it I am screaming it to the heavens hoping you hear it!!!

Oh parenting is so freaking hard! I know you think life’s not fair and you are right, at times it’s not. I also know you’re thinking when you too become a parent or mentor, things will be different! But know this.

I want nothing but the best for my children both paternal and those taken under my wing, I ask for nothing more than I think any of you can handle, I am there for you all if you need help. I will become frustrated, it doesn’t change my love, and I will never leave your side no matter what may happen. But most of all, no matter how much you or anyone else may hurt my feelings, no matter how angry you or anyone else may become, no matter how hard life feels to you at that very moment I just want you to remember. I have never lied, I will always listen to you for I have walked in these shoes, and if you will just listen to me, listen to what I have to say I have a plan and I promise when you are older whether I am alive or not, some day you will thank me.

Why?

Because I have always wanted to be a dad.

The panicking part just takes some getting used too.

 

 

 

The basement and those never satisfied juvenile eating machines!

theycallmebetty3 Comments

What the hell? What the holy freaking hell??? I mean I get it, kind of, they eat; they eat a lot! But I mean I never figured it would be like this!!!!

We as a family talk about how hard times come and go and right now our budget is squeezed a tad, we talk about the importance of shopping carefully, utilizing sale items, never being brand loyal and understanding the list dad has when he shops is because I have taken the time to figure out exactly what we need, when we need it so as to fall within those budgetary restraints! We talk about overeating along with understanding there are 3 meal times a day so you wont die from starvation if your little tummy pangs an hour before dinner! Apparently after all the long, loving, conversations held with temperance while speaking using the silky smooth stylings of Mr. Rogers some fucking remedial training is in order! 

I went into the underground cavern better known as our basement to watch television while partaking in my nightly ritual of laundry washing, drying and folding. (Apparently I am still a maid) As I began retrieving small piles of lovingly folded clothes from the day before off the floor (no one ever knows how they got from the table to the floor) while swearing like an angry Irishman, my Clint Eastwood, squinted fuming Dirty Harry gaze leveled down upon our pantry. Now this is no ordinary pantry mind you! This section of shelving is more than capable of holding a months’ worth of supplies to feed these two legged heathens and yet there is sits, almost empty..

I built cabinet doors, complete with locks to keep them out! They broke these crafted masterpieces, lost the keys and our honest little children swear they don’t know how any of that could have happened. I stored food in a manner that left bait food out front while everything else was hidden on the edges and in the rear. The bait food has been the last to be consumed while a small tornado seems to have traveled across all shelves leaving pasta and cans of soup on their side much like the remnants of a trailer park after such a storm. The middle shelves once glistening with ample product lay barren as the desert, nothing to show but dust and torn paper!

I stood straight up to make a play for our beloved angels, hitting my head on a rafter which further fueled the already raging fire consuming my being! Turning to march up the stairs I take a quick body check as to not add insult to injury upon my already throbbing noggin by clocking it again on the very same rafter!!! Carefully negotiating the piles of laundry strewn upon the basement floor I am headed up to rip some ass! Some apparently over eating fat asses need a stern talking too, because by now it has become abundantly clear their mother and I have laid no tantalizing tongue upon any of the delectable delights stored inside the sub cavernous residential pit! As I reach the stairs a little voice yells at me; look in the fridge! What??? Look in the fridge? There is no way our brooding hoard of teenage hormones has in any way decimated the fridge as well, I tell myself! My right foot hits the first stair and then my left foot makes the turn! My body has taken over, I am not sure if it is out of anger, curiosity or the little voice in my head has taken control. But quickly I am in a 180 headed straight towards the downstairs fridge! The ice cold box, filled with beer, sparkling waters, left overs, milk, sometimes candy and fresh fruit! Yes this will be fine, I begin consoling myself that 3 days ago when I filled both fridges and the pantry with five hundred dollars’ worth of supplies from our local grocery store and produce market it was going to last at least a week! A whole week, long enough for me to have retained half a paycheck, and there would be plenty for mother and I to feast upon when needed!

Opening the door my eyes cast upon a field of clear plastic shelving, like gazing through a frozen lake and yet instead of witnessing trout moving back and forth all I see is one lone grape, an empty plate of some foreign substance and beer, lots of beer. I mean thank GOD they aren’t swilling my only true inebriating pleasure, there may be at least one ray of heaven shining from within this glacial wasteland.

My anger intensifies!!!! I am headed upstairs again TO RIP SOME ASS!!!! Between the disrespect shown for the hard work in the laundry department and now this! Oh yeah, daddy is coming unglued, unhinged, the devil is shooting fire from my eyes!!!! I turn, slamming the fridge door, I’m angry, and to quote the HULK; you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry!!!!

Taking another step toward the stairs I promptly clock myself on the second rafter in our dungeon of delight!! There is a very small tunnel to which I staring, sounds coming from iPad are that of my new favorite show Bosch, yet to me they sound like eagles crying overhead! I’m sweating, hot and nauseous. The tunnel grows vastly smaller and I find the overwhelming need to hold my breath and bear down hard as to not lose consciousness. The world right now is NOT my oyster.

Coming around I find I am firmly planted on the staircase. It takes me a second to remember where I am at and why I am in the basement. Shaking it off while slowly getting to my feet I stare at the lovingly folded laundry which has somehow made it to the floor and begin picking it up while quietly cussing about our lazy children who don’t appreciate everything there father does for them. As I stand up my eyes throw a Clint Eastwood/Dirty Harry glare upon the empty cabinets that are our pantry and find myself in disbelief after stocking them not more than three days ago. I stand up as rage enters my being and scream what the bloody hell!!!!

I hate the basement…..

P.S. I came to realize after about ten minutes, there was a reason I knocked myself silly. The first time was Gods way of getting me to relax, take a hint. I didn’t listen. The second time was Gods way of saying, sit down and shut up!

I heard him loud and clear. Although our children can be frustrating, infuriating at times, and more than their mother and I can handle. We both know we have wonderful kids, we know they are going to become amazing adults, and I guess that means if they eat us out of house and home every now and again. Well so be it. No one ever said parenting is easy…

 

 

So this is 50…

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“A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted 30 years of his life”

                                                                                                                                ~Muhammad Ali~

 

I can distinctly remember awakening on my 15th birthday, lying in bed while pondering the importance of this day. You see it was my last year before complete freedom, six months from now with a little effort I would obtain a learners permit, then if I kept my nose clean a full-fledged driver’s license would soon follow. I had dreamed of obtaining my license from the very moment I fell in love with cars and now we were but 12 short months from it becoming a reality!

And that my friends started a habit that has both served me well and left me face first in the dirt wondering why more times than I can count. The habit is known as looking forward.

Most people look forward to a vacation or the purchase of some tangible object. I on the other hand began looking forward to landmark dates and moments in time where my life would hopefully just fall into place. Laying my head upon the pillow at night I would count off the time. 5 years until I turn 20 then I will be able to drink legally, 5 more years and I will be 25, either dead or married but either way that’s 10 years away! Plenty of time in between to explore and have fun! 5 years after that I’ll be a dad that’s if some woman is stupid enough to marry me!! Wow think about that! At 30, 15 short years from now, I will become a father to some snot nosed kid! Ten years after that I will become 40 years old! Who wants to be forty that’s freaking old!! Oh well, I will still be the same just I will have a couple kids to hang out with, go skateboarding, ride bikes and work on cars!! It will be fun, like having your best friends over every day because of course they will see how obviously awesome I am!! Ten years later I will be 50 and then, well then I will be really old! Like the teachers with gray hair I see feebly walking the halls, or the old men that every morning make their way into Fords Café. Pretty sure they are too old to actually have a job, they’re just killing time. Wake up early, go meet with other old dudes who are counting the days until they die, eat breakfast, drink coffee, and repeat! At least when I am 50+ my kids will be grown and gone, and I will be able to party hard once again while watching my ancient body wither away..

 

Ahhh the mind of a young man without a clue. So sure of himself, self-absorbed and completely unrealistic.

I turned 50 years old yesterday. Really not sure what I was expecting to happen, but going to bed the night before was held with great trepidation. Moving my pillow, placing items on my nightstand in perfect unison as if by awaking the following morning to find they were moved held some form of significance in determining my age.

Staring at the ceiling I began my usual looking forward process, except this time I wasn’t looking forward but instead mourning the past. Rolling back in five and ten year segments, memories flooded my conscience and with it joy, pain, fear, sadness and tears. We work so hard at looking forward, to the next conquest, challenge or milestone in our lives I think we forget to honor the past. Not just remember the past but actually honor the past. Without the past we wouldn’t be able to say; hey you remember when we…..???? Or you remember that time….???? And of course; I can’t believe we/I survived……????

We forget to not just remember the good times because all of our good times whether we admit it or not are tempered by that portion of our brain protecting us from pain, but to remember while holding in the highest regards the bad times as well. I know you are thinking what, but I want to forget the bad times! Who needs that kind of grief in their lives? In reality if we don’t take a moment to remember our struggles, relive our pain, relish in strengths formed from having our souls drug through the deepest of dark pits, we would be doing ourselves a huge disservice. It is those struggles and pain that forge the human being we are today. Life is easy and lived well when you are always happy never feeling the burdens life can provide. Life is cherished and held even closer when you struggle then survive, rise above the darkest of times always searching for a better moment to bask under. The struggle helps us to become who we are and creates a human being who cares about others, feels empathy, and knows the importance of tolerance and understanding even during the most challenging of times.

I laid in bed for an hour watching my usual round of The Daily Show, The Amazing Race and Amy Schumer. My eyes were watching but my mind was a million miles away. 50 years old, double the amount of time I really thought I would live. Every person who walked through my life over the last 40 years that was no longer with us crossed my mind. Grandparents, friends of my parents, other family members and of course close personal friends. Human lives never afforded the chance to make it to 50 years of age. Life played out is hand and they were gone way to soon leaving those around them suffering with the stark reality that when it’s over, it’s over. We have no say, no choice and life is not a guarantee. So I ask myself, why am I different? Why did I make it here and the others didn’t? Some lost their lives in accidents while others to cancer, illness or the hard realities of a life not lived well. But here I was getting prepared to embark on this landmark (by societies standards) birthday. 50 years old. Some didn’t make to 20, some 30, others in their early 40’s. Either way they were no longer with us. So why am I still here? What is my purpose? Because if I made it this far there must be a purpose otherwise I may as well be nothing more than the walking dead.

When I awoke, I sat up straight like Bill Murray in Groundhog day! I looked around and everything on my night stand was right where I left it. My phone was already loading up with well wishes from friends and the kids were beginning to rustle for school. Jacy had retreated downstairs as she does most mornings around 3:30/4am due to the wacky schedule her medications have her body beholden too. My morning was fairly uneventful for having just turned 50! No new pains, my joints still working fine and there appeared to be no new grey hairs sprouting mysteriously from my head. I still needed glasses to see and when I stepped on the scale there appeared to be no rapid weight gain possibly warranting the use of suspenders with my belt. Brushing these 50 year old teeth I found myself thankful they were all still there and once my hair was combed it didn’t look as though it had thinned any more than normal. I guess you could say it was turning into an uneventful morning, nothing like what my inner fears told me turning 50 would become.

The 15 year old boy still trapped deep inside calling me an old man was happy none of his premonitions had come true.

Today I am much more cognoscente of my surroundings at 50 years old. Birds, fields, a certain smell or breeze that is just the right temperature hitting my face floods my brain with memories. Good, bad or otherwise. I appreciate life, not just my life, but any life. Animals hold a dear place in my heart, I cannot stand to see any animal mistreated; if you are mistreating an animal rest assured I will mistreat you! Nothing brings more joy than a nuzzle  from a horse, the purr of a cat or the slobbery happiness of a dog. I finally have the patience when fishing I wish I held when I was younger. A morning working a horse can erase an entire day of shit! There is something so calming about learning a horse, its character, abilities and personality. Happiness definitely comes from spending time with my children, whether at a rodeo, playing ball, going to the beach, sitting at a school function or just reading together, they are my world. My overall temperament has changed as well, although those very same children I love can on occasion bring me close to the explosive person I could be when I was younger, I now have the ability to walk away, calm myself down and look at things from another’s point of view.

Understanding the power of commitment. My wife is an amazing human being, she fights every day for the simplest things we all take for granted. Time with her children, the ability to walk outside, go to the store, or even just drive the car without wanting to fall apart physically. She lives in fear of the unknown and wonders if she will ever feel better. Every day she wakes, and works hard at making lunches for her children so they know she is still here and she loves them. She sleeps a lot due to her medications and her body doesn’t help when it comes to walking from point A to point B. She worries about everyone and everything. She is my hero. I am terrified of a life without her.

I miss my dad. Wasn’t sure at times how I would feel about that since we butted heads a lot over my entire life, but I really do miss my dad. I have also come to understand in the circle of life his departure leaves me up to bat as it were. I would rather read than watch TV, sit in a quiet room than listen to music at a million decibels, although there are the occasional times alone in the car or at work in my cubicle I have been known to crank up some Zeppelin or Van Hagar! (only those my age will understand the Van Hagar) I have grown fond of the complexities involved with classical music and nothing brings a smile to face faster than some down and dirty jazz. Real country music not that crap they play today is what is on my channel 80% of the time.

Mornings are amazing! Every morning is a little different and I now wonder why in my younger years I wasted all those mornings sleeping in when I could have been out watching in amazement as the earth rotates bringing a bright glowing sun from beneath the shadows of darkness. I feel the same way about a sunset. Something about dusk just speaks to me. It is the perfect time of day.

I worry about our future and what we are leaving behind for our children. There is so much hate in this world and our outlets for entertainment seem to thrive on exploiting only the negatives of life. We are developing a nation of self-centered glory hungry humans that care for no one but themselves. I know there is lots of good in this world I just wish there was more reporting of positives than negatives. I also feel as though we are ruining this planet and our great grandchildren are going to pay the price. If we don’t hurry up and make some major environmental changes than we will permanently damage this planet. It is our only home.

So as you can see the 15 year old no longer lives here and thank goodness! I think differently, and lord have mercy I look different! But looking forward will still be a part of my life as I grow older, just there will also be many more times where looking behind is just as important. There are many more challenges remaining in this life that I don’t WANT to accomplish but NEED to accomplish for my own growth and wellbeing and if I make it to my 60’s.70’s or god willing my 80’s I hope I still have the ability to dream big, love even bigger and hopefully are still able to help anyone who will listen to navigate this crazy thing called life so they can find out just who they are or are getting ready to become when they to hit the big 50.

[JF1]

What do I say?

theycallmebetty2 Comments

What do I say?

My son has wanted to be in law enforcement since he was 8. It started with the FBI, moved to local law enforcement, wandered towards Fish and Game and now hovers around CHP.

The events of this last week, a proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back in regards to a movement or movements either fighting against the establishment, or protecting it. Targeting entities, blaming all problems on injustice or race, centered on the actions of a few while targeting the many. Wallowing in hatred and an unmistakable inability to look in a mirror at one’s self before casting blame. To kill or protect, hate or understand, listen or scream, these seem to be the only options available and all though some are working hard to find common ground as long as media agendas, and motivated hate mongers are allowed to stir panic, and rage through social media there will be no winners.

What do I say?

How do I tell him I am terrified for his future, scared that he will become a target as opposed to a respected asset to the community he chooses to serve; and not because of his individual actions but instead for his chosen profession in conjunction with the color of his skin. Blind hate stirred carefully over time through abuse from both sides of this fence has seen to that.

He is an incredibly smart, college educated, handsome young man. One who cannot stand injustices towards others, who was raised to honor an individual for their accomplishments, persona, ethics, and integrity; to never judge someone but spend a moment in their shoes before an opinion can be made about the who, where, what and the why of it all. He has been raised to understand we are all Gods children, color has no bearing in our house and the hate he sees in our world is taught. You are not born that way.

Yet his dream is his dream. His passion is fishing, hunting, camping spending ever moment he can outdoors. He also longs for the day when he can chase down law breakers, work on a difficult case bringing resolution to a person or family struggling with heartbreak. He wants to help you and not because you are family, but because you are a human being who needs assistance.

He is braver than I, stronger, and mentally sharper than I’ll ever be, he picks apart situations and is able to quickly decipher any moment, finding a resolution or answer. He is quick witted and knows the minute you are lying. He is the son of a fireman and therefore knows exactly what is waiting for him in this world. I have kept no secrets. And yet it is what he wants. To help you at all costs, a stranger.

I have told him you will be lied to everyday, some people will hate you simply because you wear the uniform. He will quickly find most people fail to take responsibility for their actions and therefore whether it’s a domestic issue, robbery, car theft or speeding, somehow, some way it will be his fault.

Throw into the mix our messed up society brandishing a camera, hoping, praying he screws up, loses his temper, does something stupid so they can become the next YouTube sensation and his job gets harder by the minute. It is not an easy profession, he will be spit on, punched, kicked, demoralized and berated. Hopefully no one ever shoots at him but I think those days are long gone where an officer never needs to pull his weapon, but yes that means at some point he will need to draw his gun to the glee and delight of all those iPhone camera toting social media trolls.

What do I say?

What do I say to my son, to the boy who I played baseball with, held when he cried, and laughed with while we fished. My job as his father is to help support him, keep him from harm, and lead him down a proper road while giving him all the tools for success. So what do I tell him in regards to this career choice he has made, that he has dreamed of for so long?

Do I tell him his mother and I will have multiple sleepless nights, worrying about his safety and the safety of his fellow officers? Do I tell him I selfishly wish he had become a firefighter like me? Do I prod him towards another profession, breaking him down and crushing his dreams all in the name of my own personal wellbeing?

No

Instead I hug him and tell him I understand. I understand what it’s like to want something so bad, to be a part of something much greater than you so bad it drives you crazy and leaves you sleepless at night! I tell him I am proud of him for his choices and remind him I will help him in any way possible to ensure he achieves his dream. I reinforce our families belief that all people are equal and help him to understand there are people in this world ready to tear him down at a moment’s notice and to not judge all because of the actions of a few. I remind him change can only come when people like himself get involved and provide a positive presence for all to see and learn from. I remind him that I fully understand the old adage of; if not you, then who?

We still have a few years to go before he is ever sworn in anywhere and maybe our country will have worked hard to turn things around, rebuilding trust and furthering our ability to no longer mire in hatred. He may also have joined the military and taken a different path into law enforcement you never know. Either way I know this. I am proud of the man my oldest son is becoming, I look forward to the day he finally achieves his dreams and I pray he surrounds himself with good people, starts himself a loving family and remembers he has a solid foundation for which he was built upon. Those things alone will keep him humble, caring and make him one hell of a man.

What do I say?

I say I love you son and thank you for just being you.

 

 

 

A “Betty”Fathers day thought.

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Its Father’s day.

Yesterday while saying our goodbyes as we prepared to leave Bishop California after a week at the California High School Rodeo Finals, a friend slapped me on the back and said; well at least we will all be home for father’s day!

I chuckled and made some smart ass quip about spending the day cleaning the trailer, tack, horses and clothing. Yup father’s day at its finest! Grumble, grumble…..

This morning after rousting my crew awake, driving one to craziness as he drug his very tired butt outside to feed, I decided maybe Father’s day was indeed a perfect day to be revered. But not in the way most would think.

Father’s day has always been a day for others to appreciate their dads. The men who shaped and modeled, be it through exemplary parenting, a fumbled menagerie of discourse or simply a reflection of horrific role modeling that brought you, now an adult, into the parental place you are today; good bad or otherwise.

One problem for me on this day of days.

My dad isn’t here anymore.

My father passed away on December 31st 2015. This is my first father’s day without him. Something I am realizing this morning I took for granted. He is not here for me to call in the morning, take to lunch or dinner in the afternoon, hand a card to and hug. His frail shaky body no longer walks the driveways between our houses, his voice no longer bellowing larger than life yelling “slow down” towards speeding cars lost on our dirt road. No lecturing my boys on speeding around the property aboard a quad, dirt bike, tractor or horse. No laughter at Jakes antics or pride while watching Cody triumph at just about everything he does. No glee watching Parker or a simple, sly faced smile while seeing Jessica ride in the arena. No dad for me to bounce ideas about a horse from, just silence, a vacancy, an emptiness and I cannot help but stare at the spot in the driveway where he passed.

Yesterday to make emotional matters worse my wife’s uncle passed away from a tumor in his brain. We all knew it was coming yet as I am sure you all know that doesn’t make it any easier. I understand it really shouldn’t matter but not making it an additional 24 hours, his children are now spending father’s day without their dad. It seems like a silly thought but it is one of the man things I found myself thinking about first thing this morning. How about instead I worry about the simple fact a good man is gone and the day has nothing to do with it? Maybe it struck me weird because I, an outsider thought Brian was an amazingly intelligent man, one of the kindest I have ever had the honor of knowing and to not be here for his family to revere just hit me weird. I always looked forward to seeing him at family functions because the conversation was always intriguing. He had done so many things few of us ever dream of doing. But most of all he was an explorer. To me that is what living life is about. We as human beings never truly explore beyond our little circle or comfort zone. I am speaking of not just what is beyond the horizon but within ourselves as well? Always talking a good game there are very few who actually follow through. Brian was one of those people who actually followed through. His presence within our family will be greatly missed and my heart aches for Jacy’s dad, Brian’s brother. Blair has lost his mom and now his brother all within a relatively short time. The void must be huge, the struggle within very tough.

I wish I could say I cannot imagine what his family is going through but I can and I am sure today, a holiday dedicated to fathers will feel empty at best.

This week for me was spent surrounded by kids, families and friends. Rodeo is an amazing collection of hard working people all trying their very best to survive while providing for their children. Family is always at the heart of this sport and it has always drawn me to it since I was a kid. Stands filled with cheering parents. Animals treated with love, better than many people treat themselves all working just as hard to perform. Kids not just competing against other kids but helping their competitors as well! It doesn’t matter what district you are from in this state it is not uncommon for kids from those competing districts to be helping others. They come here as competitors/rivals but leave here friends. District one rider needs a horse because theirs is hurt, no problem as District 8 lets them borrow one. District 5 needs a saddle? District three to the rescue! Don’t even get me started about the rough stock! It doesn’t matter what district you are from everyone is on deck supporting, helping and ensuring that not one competitor isn’t taken care of before they nod their head, signaling to open the gate! There are roughly 300 kids, the best in their events from across the state with parents who should be proud of not only what their kids have accomplished but what they as parents have accomplished as well.

So today on Father’s day since my father is no longer here to say thank you. I am going to go a different direction. Inspired by a week surrounded by children and family, a week filled with victory and loss, a week ending with my own family’s tragic sorrow.

I am going to say this;

Thank you to all the fathers who inspire children across this great nation, those who stand tall choking back tears during successes and failures of not only their own kids but others as well and doing so proudly while lighting the way for others to see. Every father who knows exactly when to say the right thing at the most inopportune time, creating those perfect building blocks for a child to use as a foundation for future success. Thank you to all the dads who understand the importance of putting their own dreams aside so children and again not just their own may flourish. Those dads who know being a father isn’t just about raising your own kid but holding a positive influence over every child who crosses your path. The world can only evolve if we love each other equally, help each other selflessly and not just focus on what is ours.

To the dads who become fathers to those who don’t have one any more. Who remember the importance a parental figure plays in a child’s life. Especially a child who is alone. To all the dads who were a father to me when mine wasn’t around. The ones who ripped my ass when I needed it without fear of reprisal from my own dad. My dad believed it took a village and if I was caught doing something wrong then by all means let me have it!! It is the same way I parent today and if someone doesn’t like it they can take it up with me in private. I am a very good listener.

Today is also important as I reflect on not just how special I believe my own children to be but all the kids I have had the privilege of parenting in some small way or another. I think of all of you all the time. I am thankful for this crazy social media thingy called Facebook because I can see your smiling faces, watch you all continue to grow as adults, friends, family members and even parents of your own. You all make me so proud (and you know who you are) my door is always open, there will always be a seat at my dinner table for you and an ear to listen if you ever need any help.

I think about my own kids on this day. How lucky I am to have four very different individuals living under this old farm house roof. They all drive me crazy at times, and leave me exhausted but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

To Cody, Jake, Jessica and Parker; Thanks for being my kids, allowing me to be your dad. Thank you for filling my life with memories, joys, laughter, and experiences that could never be replaced. But most of all on this Father’s day, a day where I cannot hug my dad and say thank you. Thank you for filling my life with love. I love you all so very much!!

I’m going to close out today with a simple request from all of you.

There are some who are hurting today because their father is no longer around. Reach out to them and let them know you care. There are those who you as a father or male figure have had an influence upon in your life. Drop them a note to say hello. There are some children out there who may need you as an extra fatherly figure in their life to help them along the way. Reach out to them. There are many who maybe don’t need you in a parental manner, but as a strong male figure they can trust. Step forward and make it happen. We all lead busy lives, and excuses are easy to come by, but I ask the simple question; if not you then who?

But most of all be thankful God helped create those children you have, who love you more than anything in this world. Remain the very best father you can be, you are going to screw up, make gigantic mistakes trust me! I am the KING of mistakes!!!! Just own them, apologize when needed, stand tall and do the very best job you can do.

The rewards are amazing.

Oh and Happy Father’s Day……

 

 

 

 

The Grey Area

theycallmebetty2 Comments

Over the last several years a strange phenomenon has occurred within my personality. It’s as though forces are conspiring against me to change who I am and how I think. On one side, my inner Betty feels as though I haven’t aged at all! Looking through these eyes, it’s really hard to believe that 50 is right around the corner because my brain still perceives our world with the wonderment of a 20 year old. On the other side wisdom garnered from age has taken hold, expanding my view points, quelling my youthful rage thus allowing me to become softer and gentler when it comes to this world’s constant bombardment upon my soul.

But something HAS changed. I really don’t believe it is a change solely within me. I believe whatever “it” is has been going on for a long time with little notice from the public. Similar to a small leaky pipe, nothing anyone notices at first then after time a small spot of condensation makes you think; hmmm, should probably take a closer look at that? More time passes and occasionally you stroll by the leaky pipe, noticing there is now a puddle. You think damn I really need to do something about this, yet you keep on without attempting a repair. One morning you wake up and the entire downstairs is flooded in three to four inches of water! What the Hell is your first thought! How did this happen! How do we fix this! The damage irreparable!!!! Its then you realize it was within you to make a small repair long ago when you had a chance. But you didn’t because it was time consuming, required effort, and you really couldn’t be bothered. You knew the right thing to do, you chose not to do it, hoping no one would notice and now it is costing you.

That change in us all for which I am speaking is known as living in “The Grey Area”.

When I was younger I did not notice this phenomenon as much probably because I pushed the envelope every chance I could without recognition of any wrong doing. Although lately it seems to me we as a society have let “the grey area” become more of a reality or fact than left as just that; a grey area of interpretation. Something for fodder, or a disillusioned discussion between participants without a clue. Now that I am older I have acknowledged we all know how to recognize a problem, to fix a situation as it arises or interpret right from wrong. We all know or should know the law and how it reads or is understood pertaining to almost any behavioral moment or simple civil situation. We all were taught or should have been taught the basics in regards to following rules/laws put in place for our own safety and or protection. Yet for some strange reason they no longer seem to matter anymore. For some strange reason it feels as though we are all working against ourselves, living within this grey area of life.

I will use the most simple of examples being a Californian.

The California stop

That’s right a grey area rule breaking motion that went from an occasionally seen abnormality usually kept to the slip of a brake pedal when approaching a stop sign to a repetitively normal operation perpetrated by almost every motorist on the road today! Don’t believe me? While filling your car with fuel, do so at a gas station corning a four way, two way or single stop sign intersection. Watch, just watch! I hedge to bet one in every ten cars actually stops, waits then goes. Even when other traffic is present each car will try their hardest to keep moving forward leading to a “me first” mentality! This is also extremely prevalent while driving our fire engine code three! I cannot tell you how many people pull out in front of my fire engine while we are enroute to someone’s emergency! The reason? They California stop the intersection! No look, no care about anyone else, just tap the brake and go! Once in my lane of travel with me rapidly slowing down, only then does said motorist wonder what that annoying sound is behind them, only to look, panic then pull off the roadway finally allowing our engine to pass!

Here is another example, unfortunately it has to do with driving again.

A newly minted driver can only carry family members as passengers for the first six months before being given the nod to terrify their friends with newly tempered driving skills.

Yet I cannot tell you how many kids I see rolling through our local high school parking lot whom I know personally have not crested the six month mark and are driving around with their friends! It’s now become a grey area! A standard for acceptance! The excuses usually sound like this; It is ok, only this once dad, really it will save you guys from having to pick us up later! Aren’t you glad my friends have their license, look at all the trips we’re saving you guys and all the other parents too!

How about underage drinking?

We drank as kids and survived right? So therefore it must be ok to further that wrong by allowing it for our kids! Plus it totally makes you the cool parent who really just has our children’s best interest in mind? Right? But in your “Grey Area” mind this theory only works as long as every child leaves their keys upon arrival to your casa party central! Wait I know how this plays out inside that Grey Area void! It is so a counter balance thing, you are countering the whole underage drinking issue that you created by keeping them from driving home drunk? Grey area wins again! Good for you sport; good for you!

It is the same with so many other issues as well, from politics to law enforcement, from raising your kids, to how we treat our educators, we continually are pushing those boundaries using these grey area themes as a crutch! We have behaved this way for so long many things have naturally become the norm! Unfortunately it’s allowing our society to morph into an incredibly self-centered and rude place that’s fracturing into separate cells! Our cascading inability to care for others or place others first because we have accepted our ability to do whatever we want as long as we don’t get caught is more prevalent than ever before! Yet when we do get caught we cite example after example of others prospering from the very same infractions as if their examples of getting away with things makes everything ok! No recognition of wrong doing because you were working within a grey area of interpretation.

All of this weighs heavy as I see it time and again, not just as a parent but in my job as well. If we are going to remain a civilized society centered of progression and not regression it is our responsibility to stand up and say enough is enough! No more television shows tearing us down with attacks upon women, children, race or gender. No more allowing our politicians to live under the standard of; do as I say not as I do! No more allowing people into public office who don’t uphold our countries constitution and that is from the local city mayor upward! We have laws for a reason, we have standards and ethics that must be followed, it our job as parents to instill these attributes upon our children and if we continue to give in at every sign of a bump in the road or transgression interned upon us then yes we will turn upon each other as simple little grey area’s here and there converge upon each other building into one dark giant nasty storm!

Then much like a tornado siren sounding after an F5 has hit the ground it will be too little, too late. All we will have left is a giant mess and many pieces to pick up.

 

M is for Mom….

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Mother’s day was founded in 1908. Its reverence came to fruition after Anna Jarvis held a memorial celebration in honor of her mother Ann Reeves Jarvis at St. Andrews Methodist Church in Grafton West Virginia. Anna had begun campaigning for the holiday a year after her mother a well-known peace activist who cared for wounded soldiers on both sides of the American Civil War died. Ann also created Mother’s Day Work Clubs to address public health issues within the community. Anna wanted to honor her mother along with honoring every mother out there for as she stated they were “the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world”.

In 1908 The US Congress rejected a Mother’s Day proposal joking they would also need to honor a “Mother in Laws Day”! Yet through persistence and a need to recognize the extraordinary efforts by Anna’s mother Ann, by 1911 all US States began to observe Mother’s Day as an official holiday.

No matter its origins, Mother’s Day is upon us once again. A holiday that in my opinion has become less about its true intentions and more about commercialization, much like Father’s Day and Valentine’s Day.

Mother’s day for me is not about just saying Happy Mother’s day to my mom. Although due to my extremely hectic life that is about all my poor mom gets as of late. A woman who deserves only the utmost of respect for all the dread I put her through. It is about taking a moment to recognize not only all mom has done for you, but all she has not done for you as well. It is the things mom hasn’t done for you that have built and developed your character into what it is today. Yes she does so much to ease your life’s miniscule burdens simply by being your mother. But it is the hard choices you make on your own, the times she isn’t there as a crutch to lean on, but is a phone call away to listen, leaving you to your own devices without interfering that make all the difference in the world. It is about allowing you to become you with nothing more than a look or facial expression that needs no words. There isn’t a mom alive that cannot change a young man’s course with nothing more than an MMMMMHHHMMMM or what were you thinking tone in her voice, all while allowing you to believe you made the correction in course all on your own. Our moms are the planet for which we orbit. Without them we would be lost.

Mother’s day for me is also about everyone else’s mom as well.

You see I wouldn’t be the man I am today without a hoard of surrogate mothers grabbing me by the ear, sitting me down to chew my ass, or giving me a hug when I needed it most. The moms who fed us after school without so much as a complaint, helped us with our homework because we were together as friends! A group of scraggly hoodlums helping each other out and that made these moms smile. It was the mom’s that approved of me dating their daughters and believe it or not it was also the mom’s that did not approve of me dating their daughters that made a huge difference in my life.

Swim team moms, wrestling moms, 4-H moms (those were the toughest), FFA moms, and any mom who thought if even for a moment I was worth it are permanently lodged in my heart. From laughing at my jokes, treating me as one of their own, fixing up my scrapes, not telling my parents the whole truth when I was complete jackass or telling me to get the hell out complete with a motherly ass chewing! These women, mothers of my friends who knew it was up to them to not only ensure their own kids turned out ok, but their children’s friends did as well. They showed us love and compassion, making sure we knew they would always be there for us if and when we needed.

Each one of these women made a huge impact on my life whether they knew it or not. They are the sole reason I try my hardest to make a positive impact on every single young person I meet, or that crosses through our threshold at the ranch!

To not only my mom, but ALL moms who have taken the time to love and care for more than just their own children.

Happy Mother’s Day

Without all of you there really would be none of us….