Tag: Mary

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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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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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Mary Could Hang

From Patsy Cline and Billy Holiday to Pigeon John and Metallica, Mary could enjoy a range of music like no one I had ever known. Rage Against the Machine, Cecile McClorin Salvant, Vanilla Ice, Shelby Lynne, Misstallica (aka Metallicunt), Matisyahu, Ted Nugent, Seu Jorge, and Esperanza Spalding highlight the spectrum of live music experiences we shared. She even backed me up on playing Christmas music for 30 days each December.

But not today. December 22nd was reserved for Mary’s birthday and Mary’s music. Michael Franti and Spearhead, Beastie Boys, Ben Harper, Gnarls Barkley, Heart, Billy Idol, Lenny Kravitz, and Luscious Jackson ruled the day.

Today I imagine she’s getting dolled up to see a heavenly music festival featuring T.Rex, David Bowie, Sharon Jones, and Chris Cornell.

Not on the set list? This classic:

God bless,
Jason

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They’re All Disruptions

We were blessed to choose homeschooling and to gradually evolve our philosophy toward unschooling, home education, and a holistic learning lifestyle. We had to deschool ourselves and break away from many of the poor learning habits we had internalized. It was, and still is, scary to turn away from our past paths and the present paths of almost everyone we knew. My wife and I discussed these decisions for hours and were dedicated to providing a better way for our sons. We were also dedicated to taking on the journey together. I was the bullhorn of home education and she was the quiet, steadfast warrior. We were a helluva team.

When Mary died, it was an unexpected disruption that would ripple out, echo back, and continue to vibrate through our lives. She left me with all her warrior strength and a little of her quiet steadfastness. It took me a few months, but I finally took up those gifts and embraced the disruption. Looking as deep into myself as I can stand I have chosen to take on my own demons and become a better father, man, and human.

Life is a series of disruptions, whether you steer into them or not. But life is a force of nature and fighting against change is not advisable. You will lose and it may tear you in half. Instead, put your hands out, close your eyes, and feel the air around you shift in place and temperature. Follow it. Set your sails to the coming wind and hold on. If you are careful enough and lucky enough you could be carried to a grand new land.

Do not fool yourself. That wind is coming.

God bless,
Jason

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More Good, Honest Magic

This Christmas has been refreshingly honest. We’re not trying to make it look like the Christmases we had with Mom. We’re taking possession of it and enjoying the music, movies, and Holy Spirit of the season. And for some reason, the Holy Spirit seems to be working overtime in our lives bringing us new adventures, friends, fun, joy, and peace. The Christmas magic has been strong and was ushered in as we said goodbye to some dishonest magic.

There’s no more Santa Claus here. I grew up without the myth and I didn’t want to raise our children with it, but Mary was passionate about bringing joy to the boys and had so much fun with it. Each year we took the boys to visit Santa and made sure that he put one of their requests under the tree. Wrapping paper was carefully designated, cookies and carrot were bitten into, and Santa always left a note in a familiar hand. I too loved to see their faces as they rediscovered these treasures each Christmas morning. It felt okay, but never right to me. My elder son figured things out when I lost my temper this summer and angrily murdered the Tooth Fairy myth. My younger denied the truth for some time, but came around about a month ago. I couldn’t keep it up this year. I’ve promised them that they could count on me for truthful answers to any questions, no matter how difficult. I’ve answered countless questions about their mom, her sudden illness, and her last week in the hospital. Santa no longer ranked for me. There’s real magic in the world. It doesn’t need a fictional story to be built around it. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. The more truthful and open we are with one another, the more connected we become, the closer we get to the core of each other. That’s where I often see God, in the common places we honestly and heartfully share.

God bless,
Jason

Image via The Punk Rock Advent Calendar: go download some great Christmas tunes!

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Good, Honest Magic

I’m not one to chase around an arbitrary calendar, but this has been a hard year not to spend some time reviewing. I’ve experienced the deepest sadness I could imagine, yet I’ve had more moments of uplift and joy than I could begin to count. God decided to end my life as it was, yet He also brought me closer to understanding myself and those around me. He’s helped illuminate my world and show me stark contrasts between right and wrong, healthy and toxic. He’s given me a mission that I don’t fully comprehend, but I feel prepared to take on each day.

It’s a magic that one must be open to receiving. I’ve worked hard to open myself to the pain of others. My grief feels small and manageable when I touch the pain in another. Little bits of magic fly around whenever I can be fully present and share in someone else’s pain. Eventually, that magic coalesces into miracles and healing can occur.

I’ve been blessed in innumerable ways. Mary and our sons are their own set of miracles. I didn’t properly earn this life, I don’t think anyone could. I hope to take the miracles and blessings of my life and continue to heal myself while employing every lesson I learn to heal others.

God bless,
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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A Surprise Trio

Pork and kraut. Green lentil vegetable soup. Roasted beet salad. 

This Thanksgiving has already brought a series of surprises. Nine days ago I’m not sure whether I volunteered or was volunteered to host Thanksgiving. Either way, I’m excited to have my family for a big, grateful dinner in the house my late wife helped to make a welcoming home.

In an effort to clear the freezer before the onslaught of leftovers, I’ve been searching out every frozen item to heat up for recent dinners. The last one came out last night and my sons and I had pork and kraut, leftover from a good luck meal on New Year’s Day. Mary had prepared that meal and it struck us while eating that it was one more piece of her that would be gone before bedtime. It was hard. We all cried. We filled our bellies and went to bed without much discussion.

I was up early this morning to prepare for pre-Thanksgiving guests and plans to make a green lentil vegetable soup from Mary’s little pile of favorite recipes. I stumbled through and thought it strange that I didn’t remember ever having this dish. As I prepped the stock and tried to keep the printed recipe dry I noticed the date at the top. Mary had found this recipe only a week before getting sick. She’d be gone less than three weeks later. A smile came to my face. Not 12 hours after the last meal she left us, she left me something to make for friends and family on a chilly November day. She prepared me for these moments, prepared me to try new things and welcome new people to our table. The soup was a hit and, in true Mary fashion, it took me a while to stop running around and join my guests at the table.

Tomorrow comes Thanksgiving and the third unexpected food challenge from Mary: her Famous Roasted Beet Salad. I don’t have many food duties, but I’ve taken on the responsibility of one of my favorite salads of all time. It won’t be hers, it will be mine. As will the sole role of host.

Strengthened by hardships and envigorated by successes, I’m calm and resolved to make this Thanksgiving thoroughly special.

God bless, Jason

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Day Eight of My 30-Day Positive Parenting Challenge: Valley

Nearing total exhaustion. Familial pressures, homeschool programs, a friend in need, hours of driving, difficulty focusing on my parenting goals, Thanksgiving grocery shopping, outpouring of grief about mom, some of my own outpouring, and self pressure to create something positive out of all of it. Quite a day. 

It’s the kind of day you try to end as peacefully as possible, without doing any more harm. Dinner was rough, but bedtime is quiet and I’m able to sit here and claw out a couple lines. I can’t make sense of today now, but I’m looking forward to the rejuvenation that comes with exhausted sleep.

God bless,
Jason

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A Creative Space

When I suddenly lost my wife and the mother of my young sons, Mary, in February of this year, I felt an emptiness, a hole inside my personality. The edges were ragged and distorted. Sinews of what was left of me were pulled in and broken off in the black space. I was bleeding out into it, chasing the loss and disappearing.

God’s love poured into it. A healing light filled the space and touched every abrasion, laceration, and amputation. There would be much more work to come, but God saved me from that paralyzing pain.

Genesis 1:1 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

“Create”: verb: to evolve from one’s own thought or imagination, as a work of art or an invention.

Losing a spouse is an end and a beginning. I don’t know what I could create at the end of a story. I don’t know what work can be accomplished on a finished product. But I can imagine endless possibilities at the beginning. My imagination went to work in that hole in the minutes after Mary died. It was cautious and modest at first. I’d tend to the wounds that God had put on the path to healing and I would start to grow something in that empty space. Like an iguana, I limited myself to the size of the cavity. I didn’t see it at first, but all my imaginings fit in a perceived pit. This hollow space was part of my imagination. Maybe it had been there for a moment, but God hadn’t simply passed through and patched it up, he filled it with an immutable light that would never go out.

I was working in the wrong place.

I had the revelation that I was already whole. I wasn’t less, I was more. More equipped to handle hardship, more conscious of pain in myself and others, more understanding of individuals who I had previously thought different from me. It wasn’t a complete revelation. Nine months later and, at times, I find myself trying to fill a hole that isn’t there. In one moment, I’m learning, growing, and reaching out into the world with curious wonder. In the next, I’m longing.

I’m going to make myself stronger today, more whole. I’m going to wake up each day and renew that pledge.

God bless,
Jason