Daughters

I’ve got three brothers and a sister. My sister has a daughter, as does my older brother. My youngest brother has a daughter as well. Oh, my third brother has 2 daughters. So you can see that everyone in my immediate family has a daughter. And, did I mention that I have 4 boys? Now, I love my boys but I always wondered what it would be like to have a daughter…

As fate would have it, I am in a position I wish I did not have to be in, but feel blessed to be in. Let me explain. We have a friend who lost her husband to a brain tumor about 3 years ago. She has an older son and a daughter who was in 1st grade when her dad passed away. She and I have developed a great relationship. She just finished 3rd grade and is an amazing little girl. When she ran over and gave me a hug at church a few weeks ago and said, “Happy Father’s Day!” it brought a tear to my eye. I did not know her father very well, just a passing Hello at church, but from what I hear he was an amazing man. The kind of guy you want to hang out with, a guitar player, pawnshop aficionado, handyman, funny, caring, loving, just a true gentleman. Sometimes I selfishly wish I had known him better so I could try to be present in his way to his daughter. I have no delusions about taking his place, just giving her a reminder of him.
When I think about it though, I always go back to trusting God’s plan. I know Jerry had a lot of friends and many of them are still part of Lauren’s life. I am sure she sees glimpses of her father in his friends. I think about why our relationship is so special. Maybe it’s because she didn’t know me as a friend of her dads, but as a friend of hers. Maybe she saw me surrounded by boys and sensed that I needed a little girl to hug on once in awhile. I like to think that we’re helping to fill a void in each other’s life. I just wish our roles could be reversed. See, the void I have is in my head and abstract, wondering about a daughter. She has filled that void to overflowing. Her void is in the heart and real, missing the most important man in her life. I can only hope to fill a small portion of that void. I love you Lauren…

Holy

Everytime I sit and listen to this song it reminds me of very special man in our life, and it especially reminds me of a particular moment. While on a Search weekend, I entered the chapel at Mount Carmel to spend a few quiet moments with God. As I approached the chapel, I heard soft guitar sounds. Cool...a little music playing while I pray and meditate. However, as my approach became closer the music wasn't softly playing but very intentionally being played. I silenced myself in order to not disturb the worship and truly just stood...kinda spellbound...witnessing and watching. My brother-in-law, Paul, was LOST...truly lost in worship with God...completely UNAWARE of my presence which made it even RICHER for me. So as David Crowder sings these words..."all I have, I'm leaving it here...and I will worship you Lord, only you Lord..." it reminds me so much of one the most meaningful God filled moments of my life. It was one of those times that I could feel the Holy Spirit and in some ways felt like I shouldn't be in that chapel during his sacred time. Looking back, however, I know that God's intention was for me to witness true worship. "It's just you and me, I will worship only You, only you and me..." This moment, so many years ago, changed me and deepened my relationship with God. I thank God for sending us such perfect examples in our siblings. Paul, you do it so well, and you and Maggie together create such a bright light that shines directly at Him. Thank you for loving us the way you do and for showing us The Way. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by such holy family members. And, it helps that The Catholic Church does this SO well. The actual place, the sanctuary, is holy, reverent, and a perfect "ground" for intimacy with God. It's home.

Hate

Hate is a curious thing isn't it? I mean where do we get it? And why are some people more filled with it than others? Is it taught?, perhaps shown? or does it just come from experiences that you have gone through in your life? A person close to me once stated that they believe hate is the absence of love. I disagree. Like Mike, I believe that ambivalence is the absence of love...but I do agree that the intensity that one can hate with is often strong, like love. Nineteen years ago Mike and I saw the most incredible counselor (for four years! Thanks Larry!)...where many of these types of topics came up. To this day though, I still struggle with hate. I think I learned hate at a very young age. "Love/hate" relationships truly MESS people up, or at least they messed and mess me up! I believe it all began with alcohol abuse and the affects it had on my parent's marriage and our family. I quickly learned to hate the destructiveness that comes from abused alcohol. It ruins relationships. It destroys trust. It hurts. And ultimately it leads to tons of other evils. Many of my items on my "hate" list are rooted in this beginning. I hate infidelity...on ALL levels…action, “looking”, thought, etc. I hate lies. In fact, I think it is my number one hate. My heart has no room for lies. Lying is the lowest possible thing you can do to someone. I hate all types of abuse. I hate that my mom was taken from this world so young. I hate all the time she ever had to spend alone, sick. I hate the way she suffered and the amount of suffering she went through, and that I was often not there to help carry her cross. I especially hate that I was not there to hold her during her last breaths. I hate depression and the dark affects it has on the ones I love. I hate cancer. This hate has caused me to come up with this hilarous, yet not so hilarous, list of absolutes. Absolutes that clearly, as seen on Willie Wonka, fall into the “good” or “bad” egg drop…never anything inbetween. Family reminds me often that life is not just black and white. My inability, at times, to see the vast collection of color in between the black and white is an effect of this hate and yet stems from it too. My struggle is still the same as it has been for years... hating the sin instead of the sinner and what do you do with that hate? It is so hard at times to not allow it to control you and your thoughts…something, mind you, that is absolutely foreign to Mike~ just not worth the time or effort. Why couldn’t it be that simple for me? No different than why can I not go to bed (or even sit down and enjoy a movie!) when the house is trashed with the happy-go-lucky attitude of “I’ll do it tomorrow.” This hate is part of the weight of the cross I bear, I know. I long to get to a place where I am willing and ready to lay it down at His feet.

STRENGTH

Part of growing up in the Jackson family meant being surrounded by strong women. Not only were these women physically strong, but their emotional strength has left a mark that can never be erased. Both of my grandmothers were incredible women. They were confident, intelligent, had high expectations for themselves and anyone their lives touched. My Aunt Ann was another amazing woman. She hauled trailers filled with 17+ hand horses all over the state of Florida, entertained hundreds of people several times a year (Superbowl and Wimbleton every year!) and catered everything herself, and fought like a warrior against her many cancers....never, ever complaining and truly continuing on like she felt so well. The strongest yet, however, was the tender-loving 100 pound (on a good day!) woman who raised my three strong siblings and me. She was a ROCK. The list of endurances is SO long. Numerous affairs, dealing with an alcoholic spouse, traveling all over the world with three and sometimes four children ALONE, and living ALONE for so many years...raising children, a lot of this time, alone. I will never forget landing at the Tehran, Iran airport (1978)...walking around this airport like sore thumbs...WHITE, BLONDE headed kids with this thin beautiful woman......no sight of dad. Dad finally arrived an hour and a half later! Then there was the trip to Calcutta to have my little brother, Brad, stitched up because our one year old puppy literally chewed up his face. Christmas shopping in Bangkok with my older sister, Karen. The list goes on. Like her sister, she too had her illnesses that required so much of her strength to fight. She was a fighter, even in the end. But I do remember well, perhaps those vulnerable times when she was "knocked down", her telling me, "I don't want to be the strong one, today." This has hit me hard today especially. In just an hour or so I leave for Louisiana Tech to attend a parent/student orientation for Tod. I leave with excitment of what is come in his education and future...thinking especially of all the fun Delta Zeta and Sigma Phi Epsilon days that Mike and I still smile about today...and yet apprehensive of doing this alone. Being strong is a blessing and a curse. There seems to be that thought of "they can handle it...they're strong." I do know that you end up doing what you have to do, and I will. But I now know, mom, how you felt. I, too, don't want to be the strong one, today.

Summer

I LOVE SUMMER! Yeah, yeah, you love it too, but I really love it. Summertime is magical, even for a 42-year-old. Summer means that Kim and the kids are home, so they get to sleep in. (Since this is Tod’s last summer before he leaves, I told Kim she was NOT going to work.) Some say that it is a bummer to have to get up when the rest of the family is sleeping, but it puts a smile on my face every morning to sneak out of the house at 6:45 with everyone still asleep. Part of the reason I am smiling is because I don’t have to make 4 lunches, find 2 pairs of shoes, turn over my ATM card to fill my sons’ gas tank or swing by school to drop off the cell phone my wife left on the counter. Part of the reason is that I can get up at 6:25, shower and shave, stop by 7-11 for a Big Gulp and be at work at 6:55. But the biggest reason is because I know the day will be filled with adventure and joy for the ones still sleeping. Sports camps, playing in the backyard for hours, swimming at friends, having dad come home for lunch, visiting with neighbors, falling asleep on the couch watching a movie and then starting it all over again.

I’ve always been a summer guy. From the days in Los Alamitos when we left the house in the morning and didn’t go home until we heard dad’s whistle at dusk, to working at my dad’s shop, clocking out at 3:30 and being on Lake Grapevine by 5:00. Craig’s Scout troop is going to work on their water skiing badge @ Grapevine this summer and I was reminiscing about the old days with another dad. We could ski for hours; jumping wakes, making rooster tails and always pushing to be a little better. Now I feel great if I can handle a 2-minute run without making a fool of myself. Lots of things have changed since those days – my perspective, my agility, my marital status, my weight, my income, my idea of fun, my priorities, my need for faith…

But the one thing that hasn’t is my love for summer. Well, it’s changed a little. The best part of summer used to be the adventures I went on, now it’s coming home at the end of the day and hearing about the adventures my boys went on.

MEN

I love Mike's last post...and it has so been on my heart lately anyway. Actually, I don't think a SECOND passes without my thinking about this place that God has put me in. I am surrounded 24-7 by MEN. There is enough testosterone in this house to last a lifetime. The sitting on the couch, watching t.v., and scratching themselves happens almost everyday. Let me not forget to mention the unsurmountable number of minutes that are spent and yes, wasted, in the bathroom and/or shower. And what is it about getting urine IN, yes IN, the toilet??? I spend too much time with BLEACH. The lining of my lungs are forever changed! Stronger though than the bleach smell is the smell, oh God help us all, ... that fills the air in the closets and now my precious van~sweaty cleats...too bad bleach can't be applied there. Wet towels and dirty clothes dropped where they stand, ALL socks are filthy, inside out and wadded up in a ball for laundrying...pockets filled with pens that leak ALL over the washer and dryer! I do ask far to often, "God, what were you thinking?" There is nothing better than the smell of a freshly cleaned home, the sight of no clutter, and the sound of NO arguing.

God's plans are perfect, I know. And as I sit and post I tear up THINKING about (1)my Tod leaving this house for college, (2) how much I miss my tender hearted Craig this week, (3)how lonely my day would be without Cole's continous (literally) questions and interjections, (4) how big my bed would feel without "my snuggle bunny" Reed Joe (yes, every night!), and (5) how empty my life would be without Mike. There is one thing I do know...I LOVE boys. God knew that and he abundantly blessed me with them. I love their simplicity, tenderness, wisdom, strength, and energy. There isn't anything in this house that hasn't been THROWN, CAUGHT, KICKED, or RIDDEN on (including poor Lady, our beautiful yellow Lab).

So, I will end this LONG post with thanks. God, I thank and praise You for all the MEN you have blessed me with. I am truly not worthy of these gifts. Mike, thank you for who you are, how you lift me up and love me, and what you are to our children. Tod, I thank you for loving me and holding me the way you do these days...it truly nutures the "emptiness" I am already feeling about you going off to college. Craig, uh, my Craig-o, the most peaceful, soft place to land. I love your tenderness and love. Cole, you rock my world and make all my days more exciting and fun! And Reeder Joe, you add so much color and happiness to my world.

Perhaps the tipsy will come tonight when I'm toasting to MY MEN!

Tuesday

Kim is out with some teacher friends tonight. Doing the girls night dinner thing. So that makes this boys night. Now, almost every night around here is boys night since we outnumber Kim 5 -1, but tonight it's just boys. I figure we have 2 options. 1. Order pizza, watch a baseball game, sit around in our underwear and scratch ourselves and fall asleep on the couch. 2. Take a walk, teach the boys something new, play a game.

I must admit, the former is much more enticing than the latter. The latter actually sounds more like a girls night, but that's what's happening. I fixed the garage door opener to wide-eyed little guys (dad can do anything!), fixin' to go shag footballs for Tod so he can practice kicking (For those unaware, "fixin' to" is a great southern phrase meaning, you're just about to do something. That and "Y'all" are the best catch-all phrases around.) (And yes, it is y'all, not ya'll). I see a game of Sorry on the horizon, then baths and off to bed. If I'm lucky the boys will be asleep and Kim will be a little tipsy when she gets home! Although the smart money is on dad being asleep, Reed playing with his trains, Cole watching the Disney channel and Tod watching a movie on his laptop when mom walks through the door. (Craig is at Scout Camp this week.) I'll let you know how it turns out...

Cole

I have had my drivers license for over 25 years. In that time I have had probably 10 different cars. When I was younger, I used to play police in my parents car with my little brother John ("How the heck?" "She's pretty pretty"). I have also made too many car trips to count: Yosemite, Vancouver, Minnesota, Utah, Arizona, Florida... lots of time spent in a car. I know anyone reading this can probably say the same thing, we've all seen a lot of the world from a car, and a lot of things happen IN a car. (Like those memories, too!) Anywho, I saw something happen last week in a car that I did not think possible. I honestly thought it defied the laws of physics.

Picture this.... Reed and Cole are playing in the van as I visit with a neighbor. The horn honks every once in awhile and I give a stern look as they giggle and jump into the back seat. They are pretending to drive, having great fun. After a few minutes, Cole slowly walks over to me. If you know Cole, you know that if he does ANYTHING slowly, there is a problem. His head is bowed and he looks up with puppy dog eyes. "Dad, I broke the window." I think for a second, surely he is mistaken. He did not have the keys so he could not have broken the motor, if the tempered glass had broken, I would have heard it, hmmm.....



So I walk over to the van and the front windshield has a big spiderweb crack. Maybe a rock hit it and we didn't notice... "Cole, how did this happen?" Turns out he was playing with the visor and pushed it into the window, breaking it. I had to shake my head and laugh. How the hell can a sunvisor break a windshield!?! Cole... that's how...

Inspiring

I have been so touched and inspired by Bring the Rain, a blog that my little sister forwarded to me a few months ago. Amazing to me that a couple could put themselves and their family completely down, and celebrate the gift that God had given to them, if only for just a few hours. It reminds me, almost daily, that this life and the little (and now not so little~Tod) lives that God has blessed Mike and I with are not about US or THEM, but rather should be about HIM. I really struggle here. I exist, and sometimes quite comfortably, most days in what I call "my pit", where seeing the roses is often clouded by my sea of thorns. I often wonder WHY is it so difficult to stay focused? Like Peter I am excited about walking on the water, and willing....yet I fail so often because I get so caught up in the junk that this life throws at me. So difficult to quiet the "noise" in this world. As I type I hear over and over the verse: "oh you of little faith," and "Be still and know that I am God."

God is so good and so amazing. He knew what I would need long before I did and so he brought me Mike. His patience, wisdom, tenderness, and faith are God's instruments for me and our family. I thank God everyday that he is willing, over and over, to drag me out of this "pit" that I seem to like to cuddle up in. His strength sustains me. I love you, Mickey.