Tag: gratitude

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Grief and Comic Books

My sons used Christmas money to explore our favorite comic shop today. I remembered how I discovered the Hero’s Journey in a similar place, feeding my imagination for what one person could accomplish with the proper will.

We came home with piles of adventures and closed the day with a viewing of Avengers: Endgame.

The heroes who had survived cataclysmic defeat are the archetypes of grief. Captain America remains the eternal optimist, the unshakable hero who can only believe that good will come. Hawkeye gives in to darkest resentment, taking out his pain on the reality that has betrayed him. Black Widow works and works and works, she works herself to death fighting against the tragedy. Iron Man escapes from the past into his new reality, he discovers what he had before he lost so much. Thor escapes into self medication and pity, drinking himself into solitude.

Each of these archetypes has lived in me at times, but there is one character that I most aspire to personify. Bruce Banner turned inward, he stopped fighting the monster inside. He spent time with the Hulk. He learned about it. He learned about his darkest parts. In doing so he integrated his most destructive power with a mind focused on the good.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Still Present

Mary visited me again.

This inspirational card has floated around our lives for more than a decade. I don’t know where Mary found it and I never paid much attention to it on our dresser or her nightstand.

Having no clear connection to our life together, I was tempted to toss it in my efforts to make room in our lives. Physical health and wellbeing has been paramount in our family transformation and I didn’t think I needed a reminder. I checked myself on how easily bad habits form and old patterns return and placed the card between our kitchen and dining room.

A day or so earlier, I was at Lanikai Wellness Studio for a yoga class and purchased a deck of cards based on Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements. I have a long to-read list and thought this would be a good way to bring Ruiz’s wisdom into my life. I also hoped they would provide material for a new blog series.

I sat down this morning to flip through the cards for the first time. This same card was in the first ten I read. We didn’t own the book. We never discussed Ruiz. I didn’t discover him until after Mary passed and there’s no indication of his name or the book title on the cards.

This is my first real holiday season alone. A friend buoyed me through my first Christmas as a widower, but that friendship has been lost. As much as I trust where I am and the good things that are to come, the loneliness is weighing on me.

This week I came home from a brutal two hours of soccer. I was hammered in goal and on the field, nothing seemed to work in the back-to-back games. I was wiped out emotionally and physically. I was useless to my sons as they warmed up leftovers and served themselves dinner. I wondered what I was doing wrong, how I got to this place.

I had a dream that night that Mary had been in the stands watching our boys and watching me play. I ran over to the edge of the field to ask for help with something small. It startled me and I woke angry. I envisioned the stands again and I took her away. It wasn’t like a dream. I can see the empty spot at the end of the metal bench now. I could have told her how much I loved her, how blessed I am to have had her, how important she was, and is, to me, or I could have just smiled and enjoyed a moment seeing her again. But I erased her. I was angry at myself for a foolish fantasy.

So she’s back this morning telling me to take care of my body. She always protected soccer for me. She would come home from a long day of work, start making dinner, and send me out the door, no matter if the boys were being disagreeable or impatient, or if coats were still on the floor from our afternoon adventures. She was always there later to hear about my frustrations and successes on the field. I can hear her drowsy, mumbled, “I’m listening,” as she fought off sleep after a late game. She was listening, she was always present. She was so good at being present that she still manages it from time to time.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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The Labyrinth at Union of Body, Mind & Soul

I’m not one for holidays and vacations. I believe in building a life that is enriching every day, one that doesn’t need an escape, but has moments of escape each day.

So as the park in Milton, Delaware, filled with Independence Day revelers and King’s Homemade Ice Cream served family after family, we snuck into the welcoming courtyard of Union of Body, Mind & Soul.

My sons are, well, boys, so any moment is ripe for wrestling, racing, and poop jokes. They’re also loving, compassionate creatures who recognize special spaces and look out for my wellbeing. A silly pose at the center of the labyrinth quickly became a twinkle of calm.

Once we got our selfies and completed the circuit, they went to the serious business of exploring and having a bit of fun with Buddha.

The peace of the visit carried us home to Wilmington and a raucous pool party with new and old friends.

Our life can become unbalanced with activities, explorations, and a constant pushing into the unknown. We are blessed to have found another place where much of that can be unwound and processed.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Hard Questions

Thank God we had a winning soccer match tonight.

Otherwise, I may not have been able to field challenging questions from my ten-year-old. He opened with mumbling and I was an impatient prick until he fell to tears and said, “I’m afraid of what happens when people die.” This wasn’t just about his mom, I could see it in his eyes, he was contemplating everyone’s death on an empathetic level that would be overwhelming to anyone. I remember contemplating pain in a similar way when I was his age, it was so frightening that I closed off my empathetic self for decades.

So I was faced with the light task of not ruining my son’s compassionate path to adulthood. I held him and we talked easily about Heaven, the inevitability of death, and the power we have to choose how to face it. He’s a smart kid, he’s worked out much of this, but needed to cry through it a little. We turned to the subject of Mary and how he thought he didn’t properly say goodbye. The last thing he really remembers about her was watching the first half of the Super Bowl in the hospital. With the Eagles winning, it was a nicely exaggerated happy moment.

I asked him to remember all the times Mom said, “I love you,” and how many times he said the same to her. I told him, “Mom taught me about always doing this because we never know when we won’t have another chance.”

We talked about how he and his brother bravely came to the hospital and faced the news that Mom probably wouldn’t survive. It took them all day to be ready to see her and they stood shoulder to shoulder to tell her goodnight.

I told him that it was the first step towards Mary’s peace with dying. She’d find peace with many other friends and family over the next 36 hours.

There were more questions about the details of my comings and goings and what happened at the hospital while they were at home. We both got our tears out.

I thank God again for the wisdom these circumstances has afforded me and my sons. We’re not letting this break us, but allowing it to make us stronger.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Day Ten of My 10- and 30-Day Challenges: Thanksgiving

I gave myself ten days to be prepared to host my family for Thanksgiving. In the 24 hours before dinner, my sister and her husband were there with their sons to help with setup and entertain my boys. They were a Godsend and made the pre-celebration celebratory in its own right. As all of my guests showed up within a five-minute window, I went through my mental checklist and felt good about the work we had accomplished.

My sons are troupers when the stakes are high and today was no different. Playing with cousins and neighbors during the day and helping organize, and even create, desserts. We sat down after appetizers and my seven-year-old lead a simple grace. He was uncharacteristically nervous at the biggest table we had ever hosted. Before “digging in,” I was able to say a few words of thanks for having my family in my home, for having my sister’s family to help, and for all of the ways that this gathering would not have been possible without Mary. We still receive and re-receive gifts from her remarkable life, from a treasure of recipes tried and untried to a thousand lessons on how to host a party.

Unfortunately, I was not able to hold onto the thankfulness through the day. As more and more things fell into place and went smoothly, future tasks crept into my mind and I slipped away from being present in the moment. I resisted sneaking off to write the soccer emails that needed to go out; but my mind was there, wondering if I had already waited too long. I put the device away, but wondered who had responded to my morning messages. My thoughts were on the weekend, next week, my soccer future, my future relationships, and a hundred other unknowable things.

Typing this out in an exhausted state of mind helps bring me back. The sound of the tapping on the tablet is here and now. Another night brings another chance to close my eyes, sleep, and reset. Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow.

God bless,

Jason

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The Beautiful Gratitude

I married the greatest soccer manager, supporter, and cheerleader one could imagine. It started when I moved to Delaware and she helped me find a home with  Concord Soccer Association. I joined their adult co-rec team, Classics II, and got back to playing the same month our first son was born. Soccer was never too much, even when I took over managing as we had our second son. Mary more-than-ensured that soccer was a part of our lives. She brought our boys to games, did almost all of the managing paperwork, and listened to my endless recaps of games or plays she missed.

Mary didn’t have a whole lot of incentive to cultivate my love of the game. She came from a football coach dad and soccer got me into trouble while we were dating. We played and celebrated hard in those days and after being banned from a bar or two, a possible assault, and having a teammate throw up on her I don’t know how Mary thought soccer should stay in our lives. Again, her wisdom and patience saved me. Leading Classics II has been the greatest experience outside blood family I’ve had over the last ten years. They’ve become family. And not only these great folks, but the other teams I’ve been blessed to play with, the charity tournaments, the pickups, the opponents, and the other leaders I’ve gotten to watch and learn from, our soccer family is enormous and generous. From delivered meals, donations to the boys’ education fund, invitations to pro games, Bible studies, parties, and dinners to well wishes and prayers, our soccer family has embraced us and protected us.

Soccer has never been an “escape” for me, but more of a meditation. My mind is in a different mode on the field, but Mary and the boys are always there with me. As I glance over to see the boys playing while I play, I feel blessed that this isn’t some part of Daddy’s life that they didn’t know. I’m blessed that Mary inspired me to be a better player, leader, dad, and human. Her memory still inspires me and guides me in how to go about that.

After 30 years of playing I’ve got too many people to thank. Maybe you’re one of those people.

Thank you and God bless,
Jason

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Knee Deep in Nature

To Delaware Nature Society,

You, your lands, and your programs have meant much to our family for a long time. There are too many properties, events, and adventures to list. Mary was with us every time she could be and I sent her pictures from each one of our visits without her. We had our most peaceful moments as a family while outside, discovering. We’re a very active bunch, but trekking with Mary and our boys helped teach me how to quiet down, slow down, and observe. I thought I was doing it to show them, but I ended up learning a lot about nature and myself.

It’s hard to conceive of a beautiful life without Mary. Even when I recognize beauty in the world I want to share it with someone who isn’t here.

But we will find peace and comfort outside. We’ll see Mary in the snowdrops, lambs, bird songs, still ponds, rolling streams, bunnies, and familiar faces of all the Nature Society’s lands.

Thank you and God bless,

Jason

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An Elevated Family

Three years ago this month our boys began training Brazilian jiu-jitsu at Elevated Studios.

Stephen and Renée Plyler have become so much to our family. They are mentors to our boys and treat them as equals. Stephen is an expert instructor and Renée always wants to know what’s happening on the home education front.

When Mary was sick, Stephen came and visited her and Renée is often watching the boys for me. They were at Mary’s memorial service and I can always count on them when I need help.

Incredibly, Elevated is even bigger than these two impressive individuals.  When the Roll for Zerbeys fundraiser was held, the studio was packed with students of all ages, parents, friends, and family. The children grappled with each other and black belts.

It’s not just skill that’s lifted up at Elevated. Every day they are empowering others to be stronger in mind, body, and spirit. I’ve learned a lot by observing Stephen’s teaching techniques and discussing the ins-and-outs of home education with Renée. My boys are more significant humans thanks to their guidance.

God bless,

Jason