[Reflect]The Dad Thing

So, step one, breathe. I cannot reiterate how many times I have had to remind myself of this in my life. Some how my reaction to terrible things is to stop breathing, stop living, stop everything. I suppose it's old enough to have seen my share of tragedy, some of it senseless, all of it painful (otherwise it wouldn't be tragic).

My dad was responsible for the first big blow of my life. When my parents divorced, there was no point a to b, he just disappeared and my mom took over everything. There were patches in my life where my dad would reappear and want to be dad. Not very many, and they weren't very bright. The time he took us to his ranch to stay with him, he spent the majority of the time convincing my sister and I that my mom was too crazy to properly take care of us. After all these years, I'm not sure if it was a misled attempt to take care of us, or a vindictive move. Given everything that was going on with my mom, I'd like to think it was the misled attempt. I'm a little hazy on this, but I'm pretty sure he didn't actually have permission to take us. The point is, all I remember from that is him trying to poison me against my mom. Then there was the one summer I went to go see him in Ohio. I don't remember much time spent with him. I remember a lot of time running around with my cousins, an entirely inappropriate relationship with a 19 year old for a 13 year old and my first cigarette, but not my dad during that trip. After that, there was about a year or two of infrequent drives out to truck stops for dinner with him. That was the sum of it. Some time in my fifteenth year of living, he just dropped off the face of the planet. My mom would call him and tell him about suicide attempts and how badly things were really going for me, and there would be nothing in response. Nothing in response to the news that I had a beautiful little boy when I was 24. There was one Christmas where gifts appeared out of nowhere when Evan was 2 I think. And that in summation was my relationship with my dad after the divorce.

In hindsight, I realize that gift probably came with the news of his cancer. He didn't share that information with us, but as far as time lines go, it seems about right. To be completely honest, I'm not sure when it came into my sphere of knowledge that he had cancer. I'm sure my sister knew before I did and probably didn't think to share it. She had forgiven him and was talking to him again. After everything, I thought I had declared him dead in my head. If there's anything I inherited from my dad, it's this stubborn streak a mile wide.

Then the news came that he was dying. There was no more radiation and no more chemo that could be done without doing more harm than good to him. It had moved into his brain.

Turns out the funny thing about declaring someone dead in your head and someone actually dying is that there is a huge difference. In all honesty, I was still angry about everything. I debated going to see him, not wanting his desire to see me to be a deathbed making amends. I did end up going to see him, because I thought he should meet this little man that was so much like him in looks and personality that I had had. I'm glad I did. I think I would have regretted it to my own dying day if I hadn't. It was harder than I expected. The man who, despite everything he had done, was still my daddy. When I was tiny he was the strongest person I knew and he could fight the world for me. Now he was so frail that it felt like you could break him if you hugged him too hard. He couldn't eat. His mental facilities were decaying as the cancer ate through them. If you've ever been that physically close to someone dying of cancer, you know what I mean. Even with everything that has happened in my life since, I think that was the most heartbreaking moment of my entire life to date.

The moment I will never forget from that trip is when I was leaving and my dad cried as I was leaving. I had never in my life seen my dad cry. Not once. That was the moment when all the years of silence, bitterness and anger came crashing down on me. How much waste there was in them. He was crying, because he'd never see his daughter again. As a parent myself, that would be the most gut wrenching pain in world.

In the end, my dad may not have been perfect, but there was never a lack of love. Maybe he just didn't know how to reach out, just like I didn't know how to reach out. I still have issues with forgiveness. Maybe it's part of that stubborn streak I inherited from him. He wasn't perfect, but neither was I. If there is anything I have learned from it all though, it's to never let go of the ones you love. Never let space and anger come between you like my dad and I did. Because you never know when there isn't going to be anymore time. The true test with my kids has yet to come, I know, but I'd like to think I'm ready for the challenge and I've evolved enough to get there.

Side note: Shortly after my dad passed away, I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I think to this day that she has a little bit of my dad's spirit in her and maybe she's my second chance.

[Soapbox]So, about this whole Happy Holidays vs Merry Christmas thing...

Disclaimer: I cannot even believe I see as much about this as I do, but just to state beforehand, I am a Christian and I do celebrate Christmas. I just think this whole thing is kind of stupid, but for what it's worth, this is my weigh in on it.

Here are a couple disjointed thoughts on why being offended one way or the other on this is, in my opinion, pretty much stupid.

1. Etymology
The word holiday means "holy days". It derives from an Old English word, hāligdæg. So really, it's not any less religious than saying Merry Christmas. It just happens to be inclusive of multiple religious beliefs and celebrations. I don't see that as such a bad thing. Maybe it's the fact that I don't limit myself to only associating with and befriending people who share my beliefs, but it seems pretty silly to be offended that one word could encompass more than just my views.

2. Professionalism
One place I ran into a lot of this was when I was cashiering at a grocery store. I would always say happy holidays unless someone said Merry Christmas (or Happy Chanakkuh, or whatever). Then I would respond back in same. First off, I wasn't offended that someone may have wished me a happy something I don't celebrate, but more on that later. Secondly, by them saying that I know I can say something that speaks to their beliefs personally. Otherwise it's not worth potentially offending someone. It's a shitty job, and somehow it doesn't seem worth it to make it shittier. So, when you want to be snarky to your cashier/mall worker who said Happy Holidays to you, just keep in mind, their life sucks enough without your attitude.

3. Appearances
Guess what? I can't tell by looking at you if you are Christian, Pagan, Jewish, atheist or anything else. If I could, I'm pretty sure it would qualify as a super power since really no one can. It's mighty selfish to think your holiday is so much more important than anyone else's that we should tell a Jew Merry Christmas just so you're happy. I can already see you going, "But that's not my intention." It is though. This whole thing being a debate shows that it's your intention. Screw what everyone else believes, this is all about what you believe this time of year. Sorry, I can't get behind that. I'm kind of all about love and acceptance of everyone, no matter what they believe. Unless it's killing puppies and kittens. That's not cool ever.

4. Nationality
(This part only applies to Americans.)"We are a Christian Nation." No, we're not. Get over it, move on and realize there's a reason we don't have a state religion. The end.

5. History
I'm not even going to get too deep into this one, but I am going to say that as hallowed as Christmas is to Christians as the birth of Christ, the holiday itself and much of it's traditions don't have anything to do with Christianity. There's nothing wrong with this. Things evolve and when people came to the Christian religion, they didn't leave behind their Pagan traditions completely. So, it evolved. That's all on that, because I know this is a can of worms I don't want to open too much.

6. Intent
This is for everyone, those that are offended by Happy Holidays and those that are offended by Merry Christmas. Sometimes a nice thought is just a nice thought, no matter how it's phrased. Stop being so freaking sensitive. This is along the same lines as someone saying they're going to pray for you (in a genuine way, not a praying for your deviant soul kind of way). You just take it. Say thank you. Be gracious. Don't be a douche. Which might be the whole point behind all of this blog.

So, if you take nothing else from this blog, just don't be a douche. Really, on some level that's what this season is supposed to be all about. Now, here's some penguins:

[Mommy][Nerd]The Next Generation...

So, forget for a second the whole litany of ways that nerd and geek has become super trendy and lost any meaning it ever had. Now step back and think about the truly nerdy people you know. Now look at this picture:

I was talking to Jeff about it and I swear I'm looking at the next generation of nerdom here. In this pile of birthday loot there's the telescope and microscope he was ridiculously excited for, the Jedi training manual and Star Wars puzzles, the remote control spider and underneath all that, a magic kit.

Now, he's 9, so I give that this is the age that he's "supposed" to be into these things. In this day and age though, it's all about instant gratification for 9 year olds, not discovering what a rock looks like under a microscope. I'm pretty sure the majority of the blame rests on parents that are complacent in their mediocracy to create mediocre children, but that's how it seems to be. Not to sound like I'm bragging that my kid is so much smarter than any other kid (despite my motherly belief in that very fact), but this kid here loves books, puzzles, building and science more than anything else. Even video games, even though it will be a dark day for him when he doesn't have those.

It fills me with an immense amount of pride and worry at the same time. I don't know if he's going to fall into that mold of being hopelessly socially awkward as he gets older. I worried that was the case already, but apparently he's the kid everyone wants to be friends with right now.

My main point in this really rambling blog that I swear had a more cohesive point when I started typing it, is this. As parents, we create the expectations that our kids live up to. It's our job to support them no matter what they love, yes, but it's also our job to hold them to a standard that we know they can achieve, while not getting angry if sometimes they fail. I'd like to think it's the standards of knowing he's smart enough to handle all these interests that has led to him being interested in them. I know that's not all it is, because if there's anything I've learned by age 9, it's that he will be his own person in any and all ways, no matter what I think sometimes. It's a good chunk of it though.