The healing journey of a widowed, unschooling badass in Delaware.
Our magnolia tree can turn the simplest snow into something fantastical. Its beauty transforms and radiates in particular ways during each season. It is our evergreen, our reminder that growth is always new, and our strength and resilience on trying and confusing days.
God bless,
Jason
Tonight I’m going to my first concert without my sons since my wife passed away. I’m feeling strangely ambivalent and wonder if I’m so worn out from emotional purges that I don’t have much left in the tank.
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Or maybe it’s the calm. Having recently gone through some seismic psychological shifts, I’m feeling ready for a new chapter. While moving piles around I found Get Well cards that Mary never got to read, funeral home to-dos I’ve yet to do, and the looming stack of condolences that might demand my attention. But none of it controls me today. It’s just stuff.
Among the stuff I also found a Time Out Chicago from when Mary and I went to Lollapalooza in 2008. A quiet sign and reminder of how much music meant to us individually and as a couple. An unbroken thread stretching back through my memories to well before I met Mary. One that continues on with my sons and on for me as I find my new way in the world.
God bless,
Jason
When I hit the soccer field I hit it hard. I work hard to conduct myself as a model for my boys, but I let loose all of my other concerns and dive into the game: mind, body, and soul.
It’s easy to do with the folks on Classics II. Organized through the adult pickup programs at Concord Soccer Association, I’ve had the honor of serving the team for almost a decade. We lost our championship match tonight against a solid team who earned the 2-1 win. We fought to the last moment and didn’t let the odd harsh word break apart our teamwork. We came off the field with heads held up and took that picture with the second place cup (seriously, do we need a second place cup?).
I’m proud to be a part of this team and blessed by all the times I’ve been able to step on the field with them and put my troubles behind me for a little while.
God bless,
Jason
I’ve been trying to attack some of the piles of books, journals, files, notebooks, and pictures that have not needed immediate attention.
Going through some of Mary’s things is intense. Whenever she was really upset with me she would write it down before coming to me with it. It provided a pressure release and also a reminder that there was something that needed to be addressed, even after the storm of emotion passed.
Some of those notes are tough. Stress, drinking, a desperation to be more positive parents: I regret not working harder on solving these conflicts that infrequently, yet regularly, arose.
More of the notes are sweet: meeting my family the day we “officially became boyfriend & girlfriend,” “I Love You,” “Sweet Dreams!”
There was one surprise of an email I had copied her on to the men in the Bible study I had been attending. She had printed it out and it was in a prominent place in one of her notebooks. It was a brief summary of my journey to becoming Christian. I don’t know why she kept that one close. Maybe it was a sign for her that I was taking self-improvement seriously. Maybe it represented a hope that we would work through obstacles that seemed impenetrable.
We only had five more months together.
Here’s that letter:
Gentlemen,
I shared some news at a recent meeting and realized that I wanted to share it with the whole group. To get to the chase: my wife, two boys, and I are getting baptized and accepted into membership at Aldersgate during Sunday’s Rally Day combined service. We’re very excited and hope you can join us in the celebration.
Six years ago I decided to leave my job and come home to take care of my boys. I expected to say, “It wasn’t an easy decision…” when explaining the change to family and friends, but that feeling didn’t last. I immediately saw God working in my life. My wife, Mary, and I had been looking for a church to attend, but it didn’t become a spiritual journey for me until I sunk myself into trying to take care of these little humans. And then I did get a bit lost in the day-to-day of childcare and then homeschooling. We found a great place in Aldersgate about a year-and-a-half ago. We started talking about membership and baptism and what all that meant. I realized that I had been trying to listen to God, but I hadn’t been spending much time with his Word. I can’t thank Dave Harrington enough for inviting me to this group. I was so keenly aware of not being baptized and not being a member that I wasn’t sure I belonged, but the timing couldn’t be denied. God was handing me this opportunity and I’d be worse than fool to turn it down.
Not only have the meetings become an important part of our life (my boys are present for almost everything else I do, I think they revere these meetings as some sort of secret club and can’t wait to hear about them). And I am spending a lot more time thinking, reading, and listening to and about scripture.
I most want to thank David DiGiacoma for leading the group. He’s created a welcoming, informative, and serious discussion space for us to get together and share the Word. I may not have had a “born again” moment, but I was unsure of myself until during a meeting David turned to me and asked, “As a Christian…” I had a nervous flash of thought, “Oops, I’m found out, not a Christian, have to share that now.” But after the flash was just calm and I answered the question honestly. I don’t know when I came around to accepting Jesus as my savior, but I do know I became aware of it in that moment.
I think that’s the shortest version I can come up with. And I want to thank you all for making it a great group that I really look forward to joining each week.
Hope to see you Sunday!
-Jason
Day 20 of my 30-Day Positive Parenting Challenge seemed to show some results. No blow ups and hardly any fussing mixed in with action, down time, and some heavy conversation before a late bed time.
We were all more relaxed today and handled conflicts in a more peaceful way.
I know it’s a long road ahead and expect to make many more mistakes, but we’ve got the start of some very good habits forming.
God bless,
Jason
I’m discovering more and more that single parenting doesn’t just need “support” in the most commonly understood ways. Yes, childcare, carpooling, play dates, overnights, and the simple presence of our family and home-educating friends are all necessities when it comes to providing my children the most rewarding life possible without a mother.
Even so, there is another need. One that is seemingly so specific that I cannot fully identify it. “Mother figure” isn’t right, it’s superficial. This need is complex, deep, and a scary place to go. It demands trust and openness, listening and understanding, and a willingness to give and receive without fear. It sounds like marriage, but for me it is a friendship with a single mom and her children. A woman who understands loss and children who are just as sweet and rough as my sons.
Maybe that is the key. Mary wasn’t simply a person who provided things we needed, she was a significant portion of our world. A part that cannot be replaced by another person, nor a community, no matter how giving they are. She was a part of our world that is gone and, as we build a new reality, we need big pieces. Not just new relationships, but new sets of relationships, creating new networks and dynamics that support and challenge at the same time. Helpers in need of help.
Playing house. How often do young boys and girls naturally fall into this game? The storytelling, negotiations, and little dramas are innocent, but don’t they point to a need in all of us? Not long ago I would have assumed that need was of a traditional family. Now that option is gone and I see that, although close relationships are critical, they can come in surprising forms and provide in amazing ways.
God bless,
Jasonpositive
Had a mixed day of success getting my sons on board with teamworking and task-mastering.
I started the day listening to Amy McCready discussing age-appropriate tasks to engage young minds and build independent habits. Implementing these strategies proved difficult as I got most of the morning’s housework done on my own. But I had glimmers of hope as excitement over dinner guests fueled laundry sorting and fireplace setting. Hitting the road for chores before helping a friend with childcare, I found the boys more and more agreeable to moving the day along peacefully. The tasks with tangible results drove them the most. We grocery shopped for DIY pizza and my elder got excited about avocados and offered to make guacamole for our guests.
Our dinner friends helped prepare the meal and the children made fewer mistakes than the adults. Everyone invested themselves in a successful evening and all was peaceful as we sat to watch one of my favorite Christmas movies: Arthur Christmas.
I’m far from a formula, but it seems we can get a lot done under the right circumstances.
God bless,
Jason
Disclosure: Some of the links below are affiliate links, meaning, at no additional cost to you, I will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase.
These sessions have been the most fun for me. They’re when the grown-ups take a step back and the team digs into the building of their Moon Base. We’ve stretched these sessions out to maximize creativity and allow more time dedicated to experimenting and coding with the motorized portions of the base.
Mapping the layout:
The team broke into two groups and got to building each half of the base.
Session 9 saw several rooms come together.
The team also had a little fun building, coding, and modifying some motorized components.
Some team members took home the WeDo 2.0 sets to further experiment with the task of bringing some robot-building expertise to our next meeting. I’m really looking forward to seeing what they learn.
God bless,
Jason
With so many activites planned around our learning lifestyle and an intense urge to explore something new when plans are light, it can be hard to settle into a quiet day around the house. Today’s low-energy activities found us in a calm that has not been the norm for my two sons and me.
I took a break from listening to and reading parenting advice. I even took a break from actively attempting strategies and “tools.” This was a good way to see which positive parenting ideas already fit into our rhythms. We started another game of South Phillyopoly, drew on dry erase boards, and stretched out on the floor in the afternoon sunshine. It wasn’t perfect and had its rough spots, but it was a good day.
God bless,
Jason
A lot of anger welled up in me this week. I tried to blame other people for perceived wrongs, but today I saw it and felt it emanating from inside of me. It’s a monster with a persona I crafted and used to great effect in my teen years. I had been surrounded by bullies for much of my youth. I was small, geeky, totally different. For years I was smart enough and fast enough to keep away from any real harm. Then, when I was twelve or so, I witnessed someone being bullied in school. It was just words, but the kid was big. Unprovoked, I threw some smart-assy dig at him. Before he could turn his attention to me I hit him with another. He was on his heels and I got the taste of that power. That year I decided that the world was made up of victims and victimizers. And damn if I would be a victim.
I didn’t steal lunch money or knock books out of hands, I used my energy and love of a good, nasty joke to build walls of safety and to strike out at those whom I thought might wrong me or get in my way.
It seemed to work pretty well. I chose my friends and didn’t feel the pressure of being a part of any of the various teenage groups. With an ever-sharpening tongue I was more confident and could impress girls by belittling teachers and other boys. On the soccer field I applied my energy more towards intimidation and violence than skill.
I cultivated the monster for years as he seemed to reward this still small kid who now could get in a mosh pit and instantly identify who to hit. I took him to the workplace and bullied anyone who couldn’t keep up with my pace.
Then I met someone who quieted the monster. Who was never a threat and not impressed by my clever nastiness. Someone who was genuinely kind, loving, helpful, and, most importantly to the monster, confidently independent. Mary wouldn’t be bullied. She had been wronged and was too tough for that. She wasn’t damaged. She didn’t use the lessons she learned against others as I had for a decade. She took her hurt and made it something positive. Mary quieted the monster just by being there. I have thought long and hard and cannot think of one time I said something intentionally hurtful to her. Insensitive? Thoughtless? Negligent? Sure, I said lots of stupid things, but she never roused the monster.
I was sitting pretty, all of a sudden I was a decent guy and looking to do right by people. I got comfortable and forgot about that beast I had fed for so many years.
As we had children, I took on primary care of them and after a little while I started to bully my sons. Usually when Mary wasn’t around, I would find things not going my way and the monster showed up. This abomination was not quick witted, it knew it was bigger now and didn’t need any of the fancy tricks. Yelling, throwing things, threatening…a big, scary, disgusting toddler trying to bend independent humans to its will.
I was in the car alone this evening and cranked up the heavy metal that had fueled my youthful anger. The grieving/healing process has taught me that leaning into unpleasant feelings is the only way to take their power away. The monster hadn’t really been let out in years, not in this off-the-chain, feel every panicked breath, physically paralyzing way. I pulled into the parking lot of a facility where I knew some friends were playing soccer. I was exhausted from keeping it together just enough to control the car. But the tears stopped and I was fearful of sitting there alone, so I went in to watch the game. It was halftime and my friends were playing a man short. “Get in! Get in! We need you!” Without a thought I ran to the car for my gear. Out in the cold I paused for one moment and looked up, “Thank you for bringing me here, God.” I was all smiles and calm and my body was light.
The monster is still there. I treated him too well for too long for ugly crying to chase him off or slay him. But this is the closest I’ve been to this part of my being without giving it control. I hope I can lean into the anger the next time it manifests and find a healing way to engage it.
God bless,
Jason