Author: Jason Zerbey

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2018: The Year I Lost My Wife and The Mother of My Sons

It could be that easy to define my 2018, but that’s not how it went. Mary started to get sick at the end of January and spent six days in the hospital before passing into the hands of God on February 12th. Miracles began before she left this Earth: from the maturity and bravery of her 6- and 8-year-old boys to say, “I love you” before she passed, to her holding on until friends and family from all over were able to come and do the same, to the peace that God brought me before her final moments, and to the connection with an eternal love that she left me.

That connection is a super power. Paperwork, memorial planning, giving her eulogy in front of hundreds of people, spending that same night alone with my boys…it all just came to me.

That connection remains unbroken, but doesn’t shield me from my own brokenness. In fact, it’s given me the courage to face my broken parts. That is how I might define my 2018: The Year I Faced My Darkest Parts. I’ve found strength by diving into my weaknesses. I’ve found love by embracing my fears and spending real time exploring them. I’ve started to find myself through a lot of muck piled up inside.

I don’t know why God took Mary, but I’m certain both of them would want me to continue to grow, learn, search, lead, and, most importantly, love.

God bless,
Jason

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Road Trip Exhaustion

As we wrap up another adventure I’m feeling worn right down, but oh so blessed. We’ve found traveling companions who go as hard as we do and can smile as they roll with the punches. We giggle and play, hike and seek, and somehow survive the new dynamic of six in a vehicle instead of the road-tested Zerbey Three.

We even squeezed in a two-hour ecology tour before an eight-hour excursion today. The learning lifestyle takes us many places and follows us where we least expect.

God bless,
Jason

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Owning Up

On July 27th, 2018, I had a few beers with neighbor friends as our children played together. The night went longer than it should have and I had more to drink than I should have. My sons gave me a hard time as I tried to bring them home for the night, only a short walk away. I lost my temper immediately and threw our house keys into the darkness, telling them they’d be sleeping outside if they didn’t find them. Finally, with keys recovered, we got home and continued to bicker, with me becoming more belligerent. Over some perceived slight I went into a complete rage and smashed a chair on the floor repeatedly, screaming for their attention. I succeeded in the clear goal of terrifying them. They were screaming in fear and I shut myself in my room. After a couple weeks of really struggling as a single parent and increasingly losing control of my drinking, I lied in bed and stormed with confusion until I fell asleep.

My boys woke me a short time later, “Dad, the police are here.”

I don’t know why I was calm. I don’t know why I felt sober. I don’t know why I was able to quell their concerns so quickly. Maybe I know exactly why: I could have lost my children that night.

I went on to be angry at the neighbor who called, the police, and finally myself. I was too embarrassed to share the full truth. I slowly started to work on myself, a job I thought could be carried out privately. I was wrong. Not until I started sharing my worst stories and deepest fears was I able to get my hands around them and start to understand. Three months later I stopped drinking completely. A couple weeks after that I publicly dedicated myself to becoming a better parent. I’ve found people who listen to and challenge me. I’ve lost a lot of that anger.

And even with all that I had put this story away. The Orange Rhino Challenge had called me to reveal it weeks ago, but I chickened out. Then my elder son told the story of that night to new friends in front of me. I was immediately defensive and felt the embarrassment again. I was able to look at it more clearly this time and see how many things I had done wrong leading up to that night. Not sharing that story was a lingering mistake in the way of my self betterment.

God bless,
Jason

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Keep Going

Musket and cannon firings, a dolphin sighting, free admission to a wildlife preserve, eating on the fly, trail hiking and running with walkie-talkies while only getting half lost, coffee and smoothie power-ups all around, hopping a fence for some open field ball and game playing, hitting the Redbox kiosk, grabbing a couple freezer pizzas to complement the movie, and surviving some children who have been over doing it like real warriors.

Today was one of those days that doesn’t make sense on paper. The kind of day that shouldn’t have been possible. But we did it all and wouldn’t trade in a minute of it.

We’re blessed with a world full of wonders. Get out there and find a few.

God bless,
Jason

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More Love

“Oh, where oh where can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She’s gone to heaven, so I got to be good.”
-Last Kiss, Wayne Cochran

No, that’s not the way I look at things, but I have found a lot of reasons to be better since I lost my baby. The most effective reason has been for myself. When I increase my effectiveness in the world, I can provide more for those I love most. It’s a driving passion for me to be the most positive force I can be in the world and multiply the love that Mary and I felt for each other. Focusing on positivity in my parenting and all other relationships has gone hand-in-hand with a personal mission of self discovery and self improvement. It’s driven me into great challenges and eye-opening revelations about how I can find and produce more love.

God bless,
Jason

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Road Trip Rhythms

When five-hour road trips turn into ten-hour slogs, a minivan full of six people can get tricky. When those six people have never traveled together, the hazards can be greater. Repeat that pattern two days in a row? Tricky can turn to sticky.

Somehow we managed. Two families with young children on the road for nearly twenty hours in two days. There was screen time, quiet time, reading, singing, games, drawing, fighting, talking, snacking, laughing, eye-spying, lots of stops, and a bit more fighting. No secrets, just constant trying. It’s been my go-to strategy: when nothing works, try something new, or something old again.

God bless,
Jason

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Letting Go of Fear

I never expected to replace Mary. I never wanted to. I never could. I feared all the parts of my brain that pointed to my life with her. I wanted to turn away from all of it and make a brand new life. For a while I forgot how good it had been, how well we worked together, and how much I enjoyed doing the things a husband should do.

I’m letting go of that fear and welcoming back into my psyche the things I loved about Mary and our relationship. I’m no longer scared of pretty girls with blue eyes or paying attention to how they like their tea. I can care for someone’s needs in a similar manner as I did for Mary. I can carry with me the best of what I learned as a husband to a range of human relationships.

With a little more love and a little less fear,
Jason

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Finishing Strong

Unschoolers can really struggle with a calendar. Tuesday is just as good as Saturday for math practice, a day at the skate park, or a gallery tour at a local museum. My boys didn’t know what a “weekend” or “summer break” was for years.

Likewise, I don’t hold much stock in the end of the calendar or placing special meaning on it. However, we were invited to join in on an unexpected road trip to close out the year and couldn’t be more excited to finish this calendar year with another adventure.

God bless,

Jason

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Thriving This Christmas

A lot of caring folks worried about us this Christmas. It was my boys’ first without their mom and it has been the kind of year that not even Santa could survive. We didn’t buy a tree, half the morning’s loot was second hand, and we had a wonderful day. In fact, it was one of the most relaxed and enjoyable Christmases I can remember.

The boys did end up with a just-this-side-of-spoiled haul of Lego from family and we enjoyed a fantastic dinner with them.

We didn’t lean on traditions or work hard to do the things we were used to doing with Mom. We didn’t force anything. We exchanged gifts, started a fire, and spent simple time together.

My sons have been my greatest blessing this year. They inspire, challenge, and comfort me. They’re the reason I haven’t taken a break from my healing journey in over ten months. They are why we are thriving this Christmas.

God bless,
Jason

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Sunset at Biltmore Estate

We had snuck into a little spot at the edge of the balcony between a massive trumpet vine and the stone railing. It wasn’t quite like being against the barrier at a Rage Against the Machine show, but maneuverability was limited.

The effect was that the sunset was all we had. Even with all these people and their conversations around, we had this small space that directed all our attention at the horizon. We stretched our hands out and could feel the air cool, the wind rise, the light all around us change, and the sounds soften. My sons experienced the end of a day like they had never done before.

The next morning, my mind went to a TEDx talk on Paper Letter Exchange. How much has modernity removed us from fundamental experience? Not long ago, sunset would have been a critical moment of each day. Now we have to use Google to find out when it will happen. How much does the body and brain crave that moment when the sun disappears? How much is it needed for rejuvenation, relaxation, or to take time to start cataloging the day?

There’s more importance in “mindfulness” than I had thought before this journey. For me, prayer and meditation aren’t enough. I’ve got to record whatever is there after I clear my mind.

I struggled with taking pictures after Mary’s passing and I hadn’t taken many before I started caring for my sons. Mary enjoyed sharing our adventures and there were a lot of moments I only snapped for her. Until that day, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to maintain the record keeping. It’s another intangible, but it helps. If it can help me, I pray that I can use it to help others.

God bless and Merry Christmas,
Jason