Posts

Posted on

Sitting in the Pain

I had to go to the hospital where Mary died this week. A quick and mundane errand that I felt prepared for. It was satisfying to see the lot where I first parked to get Mary into the Emergency Department torn up and covered in rumble.

But as I approached the information desk in the main lobby, ghosts floated in around me. Family and friends who I had run into during my infrequent times away from Mary’s side were sitting or pacing the wide space.

My chest tightened as the quick and mundane errand stretched into, “Have a seat and I’ll take a look as soon as I can.”

My sons smiled and shared a story about playing Battleship at one of the couches. I looked at the ghosts and understood that so many of them weren’t with me any longer. I realized that I would walk out of there and they could not. I felt the pain that was there and knew it would not follow me.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

Mary Met Us In A Song Today

Music was our strongest common thread before parenthood. We introduced and reintroduced our favorites to each other and discovered hundreds of new acts together.

There’s hardly a song I hear that won’t tug on that thread.

She would call me an absolute goof for how much I liked Queens’ “Princes of the Universe,” but I rocked it out with my sons in the car today, windows down, heads banging away, and the volume up high enough for Heaven to hear.

Then I thought about how empowering the lyrics are for my sons. In a world that seems to either forget us or fight us, this is the kind of message I want for my boys.

Princes of the Universe

Here we are, born to be kings

We’re the princes of the universe

Here we belong, fighting to survive

In a world with the darkest powers

Heh

And here we are, we’re the princes of the universe

Here we belong, fighting for survival

We’ve come to be the rulers of you all

I am immortal, I have inside me blood of kings, yeah, yeah

I have no rival, no man can be my equal

Take me to the future of you all

Born to be kings, princes of the universe

Fighting and free

Got your world in my hand

I’m here for your love and I’ll make my stand

We were born to be princes of the universe

No man could understand

My power is in my own hand

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, people talk about you

People say you’ve had your day

I’m a man that will go far

Fly the moon and reach for the stars

With my sword and head held high

Got to pass the test first time, yeah

I know that people talk about me, I hear it every day

But I can prove them wrong ’cause I’m right first time

Yeah, yeah

Alright, let’s go, let’s go, ha ha

Yeah, watch this man fly, wooh

Bring on the girls, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon

Here we are (here we are)

Born to be kings, we’re the princes of the universe

Here we belong

Born to be kings, princes of the universe

Fighting and free, got your world in my hand

I’m here for your love and I’ll make my stand

We were born to be princes of the universe (universe, universe, universe)

-Queen

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

Where’s My Reward?

Trading freedom for safety leads to humans who cannot handle adversity.

Teaching children that life is about acquiring rewards and approval from authority leads them to a life searching for things out in the world that can only be found within.

I was compelled into classrooms for 13 years, the training held and I enslaved myself to a few more years. I considered going into education at that time, but quickly realized how much I had despised the system I had been subject to and turned it into a game.

I speak to the above behavior modification chart as a student. I was a clever clown (I guess I still am) who could be cruel when he saw manipulation like this (still working on that part). I would have targeted the kids at the top of the chart with ridicule with the stated goal of living in the “Try Again” zone. My friends would be in on it and that position would become the spot of pride. Each time we complied with the teacher it would be with a wink and sly sabotage of his/her authority.

By fifth grade I played this game every day. By high school I was a subterfuge bully. Smart enough to get the grades and stay out of trouble, appeasing authority. Cruel enough to undercut that authority and anyone who supported it.

I take full responsibility for the monster I became. Some children feed off reward systems for a time, maybe a lifetime, but I don’t see how it can lead to the flourishing of individuals. Just look at the format, it’s a caste system, individuals suborned to their category. And how about “Good Day” being the largest category? If a child is looking for a “safe space,” it has been illustrated for them how to behave.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

#DACC at #DAM

The African and Caribbean Heritage Festival was a wonderful event hosted by the Delaware Africa Caribbean Coalition (DACC) at Delaware Art Museum (DAM).

I especially enjoyed the solo steel drum take on “Rhapsody in Blue,” followed by fine reggae grooving from New Direction. My sons smelled all the delicious soaps at Happegro, ate all my jerk chicken, and only lost me for a short time.

I got down to the Labyrinth and had the pleasure of listening in on the families visiting it for the first. I introduced Mary’s tree to good friends and we all explored the new Kids’ Corner space.

This is something special. Warm watercolored walls with a magnetic surprise, cozy rock pillows, and a fantastical fishing pond. My sons went to work telling stories and cooking up dinner.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

I Can’t Have a Normal Conversation

To the person I just met:

I don’t want to talk about my dead wife today, or at least not right now. We’re talking about RVs, archery, home education, cookie dough, and all these interesting places and things that you know and I don’t. I’m enjoying this moment and don’t want to hijack another conversation with my story.

I’m sorry if I’m not being as truthful as I want to be. I told it all over lunch yesterday and I’m not up for it again.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

The Learning Lifestyle Led Us To The Stage

“My son would be much better in that role.”

I had that thought watching a professional actor in a leading comedic role. Yep, I’m a stage dad.

This is the kind of trouble that unschooling and curiosity can get you into. My wife and I had no theatrical history except for being casual fans. By the time they could walk and talk, my sons were putting on sketch comedy and air guitar rock shows at family gatherings. They could not be kept off anything resembling a stage.

My elder son was one of the chattering Bandar-log in The Jungle Book when he was six years old and took on a small role in Macbeth at age eight. Two years later, both sons have completed multiple performances of Julius Caesar and Much Ado About Nothing, read Shakespearean lines in all three of Delaware’s counties, improvised in the galleries of Delaware Art Museum, and appeared on stage with Delaware Shakespeare (DelShakes).

There was never a plan nor a theater curriculum. A rainy day put us in a library watching Gnomeo and Juliet. A sunny day put us in a city park to meet Delshakes actors as they performed community outreach. Story times at museums put us in front of paintings representing The Tempest, Treasure Island, and innumerable tales. Everywhere we go there are stories. We read them, tell them, and act them out.

I had no idea this would lead to a couple of actors in my midst. That’s the wonder (and terror) of an unschooling approach. The work comes in not only observing their curiosity, but emulating it and employing all reasonable (and some unreasonable) resources to feed the hunger for knowledge and experience. I have to be creative, broaden my community, and learn a lot about myself.

That’s why I call it a Learning Lifestyle. We are each learning different things at varying paces, but the focus remains on the discovery of new ideas, places, and people.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

No A/C for Me

I haven’t had guests to my house in months. That’s probably what this post should be about, but it’s not. When my late wife’s parents wanted to stop by for an evening, I was grateful, but also concerned about the disorderliness and the heat. This is the first time I have lived with central air and I’m not very comfortable with it. I feel isolated in the house with all the windows closed, the outdoor sounds replaced by a droning from the basement. I run the heat in the winter (still missing the warmth of radiators), but I’m not missing out on too much birdsong in January.

So I fired up the ancient air conditioning unit and it didn’t work. No surprise really, I knew there was a leak in the system and it had been at least a year since I had tried it.

No bother, the evening cooled off and we were all comfortable. But it did get me thinking about why I don’t use our A/C.

  • The jarring transition between air conditioning and fresh, if hot, air
  • Grew up largely without A/C
  • The birds: that first closed window made the house sadder
  • My sons screaming in joy (or is that pain? might need to check on them) three blocks away
  • Hearing what’s happening at night for security and awareness (a heightened concern of the single parent)
  • The sound of a condenser running shuts down a small part of my brain
  • My body performs better at room temp or above
  • Concerts, soccer, yoga, burritos, sex: all the best things are done with extra heat
  • I’m kinda cheap.

There’s something to be said for the little adversities. If you take on the little pains, you find out they were smaller than you thought. It’s watching your son getting choked on the mat and then smiling and fist bumping his partner. Then he’s in a competition against a much larger opponent getting smashed into the ground. Then he’s facing tragedy that many adults can’t manage. You watched and sat back and let him deal with the little adversities, now he’s stronger than you could imagine a ten-year-old could be.

Turn off the A/C and find out how strong you could be, because you ARE stronger.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

Each Grief

Each grief calls out to echo off other griefs.

They know one another by their partial professions of love.

Increasingly unintelligible as memories of our lost loves rely heavier on photos and aging dreams.

An intimate moment remembered as an epoch.

A catalog of wrongs righted off the ledger.

A cruel word as easily tattooed as forgotten.

A needle’s eye of lacking tenderness become a chasm.

Everything distorted for what purpose? To proceed? Proceed where? Through the “process”? To what end?

I know no person who wants to be rid of grief, but only to lighten it and find freedom out from under it.

To this end, perhaps, we are carried along by malleable memories and faulty minds.

-Jason Zerbey

Posted on

Little Deaths

Little deaths are chasing me around, from the above section in A Beginner’s Guide to the End to a Jordan Peterson quote from 12 Rules for Life, “Every bit of learning is a little death.”

I have also come to learn about the little death that is divorce. Everyone is smiling in their wedding photos, everyone is in love on that day, and everyone thinks it will last forever. No one predicts that they’ll share a few good years, have children they love dearly, then collapse out of love and into misery.

Out of that misery, new and stronger fulfillment can be found. It is a path that must be chosen. All deaths can be made little if you choose to find freedom and adventure in the circumstances of the day that God has given you. If you’re awake, if you’re alive, then every death is little, you have already survived them all.

Iggy Pop is releasing a new album about freedom. It’s not about the misery of being old and losing all his friends, it’s about being free.

Iggy Pop is alive and creating, you have no excuse not to do the same.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

Posted on

Present in the Kitchen

Mary put up reminders to return us to the present when we strayed from the moment.

With a fuzzy-Monday-morning-aching-bruised head I couldn’t decide which darn coffee mug to use. I started reading the notes and considering the images she left inside and outside our kitchen cabinet doors.

An empty bench looking out over wildflowers at Winterthur. I wonder how much she knew in her soul about our future.

A prayer to notice the beauty of God’s Creation from an Aldersgate United Methodist Church service paired with an image of Amy Steven’s exhibition at Delaware Contemporary.

Mary was my dynamo and I was hers. We each found new events and places and piled our calendar high with possibility.

Time is precious, but chaotic. With a little planning and teamwork, we brought just enough order to uncover much of the beauty in life.

A thank you card from Delaware Art Museum. #Gratitude starts each day for me and I remain grateful for all of the gifts that Mary shared with me.

Change. Forgiveness. Humility. This prayer is most important to me today.

Schoonover at Biggs Museum, Wyeth at Brandywine River Museum, Jersey cows from our honeymoon, and a reminder that THIS IS IT. In this new phase of life I am proud of how we lived our life together. Some is still here as legacy and some is gone.

I put up the last note. I don’t know who scripted it or why, but this will always be Mary’s kitchen. Notes will be added or changed and I’ll never take the care she did in preparing a big Saturday breakfast, but her spirit will always fill this space.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason