Winding down to The New Year...

                                             It's been a very good year, filled with its share of speed bumps, a couple of hair pin turns and much more black ice than I would have personally requested...

                             I'm speaking figuratively here, not meteorologically, by the way.            

                                    So, I'm sitting gently back in our old recliner this evening and letting the feelings of the last 365 just engulf me like a babies swaddling blanket, not concentrating as much on the actual events, but resting pleasantly in the warming aura of it all...

                                           Feeling the whipping crystals of ice and snow from last years tubing excursion with the Wonderful Wife and trailing McMonkeys, listening to the exaggerated screams of my youngest, down the biggest hill...

                                          Hearing the cresting waves coming in and thundering as they break on the sand filled shore, whoops of glee from my kids being pulled in with the water, as it returned to the ocean, clutching them momentarily, then releasing all but the fabric of their swim trunks; laughing as they struggle with one hand behind their backs, holding the elastic waistband with all that they have, while simultaneously climbing past the inrushes unstoppable movement back to it's source...

                         Rushing wind and terrified screams coming from myself, free falling what felt like thousands of feet but in reality was only one hundred or so, on the bungee jump thing, at The Great Escape, on my fiftieth birthday... I hear the words of pure unfiltered terror leaving my mouth, words that look like &$@:(, in the comics....

                          I hear the snores in a sleeping bag next to mine, when Jake and I slept out in our tent, in the yard, this summer. I smell the scent of burnt powder and see the look of pride and maturity as my eldest completed his hunter safety course. He is not a hunter and probably never will be one, and is one of the gentlest souls I have met in my half century of life experience....

                    But I remember his smile, on completion; knowing that I trusted him enough to learn safe practices and that I am willing to walk with him forward, to an impending adulthood....

                          I remember the constant squabbles in our car about who got to sit where for how long and the ever present " He breathed on/ leaned on/ touched/ sang at or farted on, me"...

                            I feel the warmth beside me as I wake on work days, before the alarm, knowing my Lovely and Wonderful Wife lies dozing across the bed. I whisper " I love you honey, have a great day" as I tip toe out the room... Every work day...

                       I whisper it to my boys, in the hall, on my way down toward the stairs, head turned toward the directions of my kids rooms. They will never hear it, but I do. I want to be certain that I say those words before I leave, believing at some level they will all feel the emotions that are behind the unheard whispers...

                    I still get haunted by sermons spoken at our Church, many months and often years past;  Challenges that I'm just not up to yet, in my spiritual immaturity , and convictions I have been given, surrounded mostly by my earthly failures...

                             And I recall comfort found in practically all of those sermons, somewhere tucked into the points of contact is a message that it is not our works that we are loved for...

                     And I find the nights of three hour videos exploring so much of what I never knew before, about Gods Word becomes a highlight of my week...

                        I remember moments in the hospital, the smell of sanitizer and the feel of uncomfortable folding chairs, hearing words that both terrified me and broke my heart. I hear myself screaming at my kids to shut up, that I was losing it, watching my mother apparently dying..

                         I remember the feeling of complete failure and utter parental incompetence for being so weak and so afraid that I would speak like that, to the kids I love...

                   And the feel of the tears, both mine and theirs, as I apologized for a memory that goes toward the top of the list, of that daddy debit list. I still see the look of incredulity in my Wonderful Wife's eyes as I refused her hugs, broke free and emotionally hid like an injured animal. Debits in the hubby debit list added, too...

                             I remember relief as my mom got better. Not well, but better...

                                     I feel the hugs almost every night, of my three sons.

                             I have memorized the sound of their joy as they plan jaunts to friends houses or friends coming here. I watch in pride as my Wonderful Wife dives into something her heart is so dedicated to, and find myself envying that feeling of belonging...

                                   I struggle with struggling to get that " belonging thing" down. Most days I bounce between feeling like  a social eunuch or a cautionary tale pariah...

                                   I forget sometimes that all I am is just another child of a Loving God.

                                      My feelings, my perceptions, really don't matter...

                  I look around our living room, the Christmas tree down and decorations put away for another year, a new year. I feel the warmth left over from a family movie night, and think of my kids, my McMonkeys, growing into good men. Through all the failures I'm able to glimpse the Work of an Amazing God that either " fills in the gaps" I leave like canyons, or more often than not, uses those gaps to make these children better by them, in His Love...

                                 But most of what I feel is gratitude and awe.

                   Graced in so much this year, this decade, this lifetime, this eternity....

                            Many earthly challenges are waiting for me on the other side, after that big ball drops. 

                                                    That probably fits us all. 

                              What I need to remember is they are all earthly challenges.

                        And that the solutions to them all are in our Loving Fathers hands, Who is not limited one bit, by earthly constraints...

                                                        Happy New Year...

My best draft...

                                      Every now and then, I open my blog and read through some of what I've written in the past few years. A few of the posts written make me smile, while the rest usually bring less of a reaction. I take a breath, clear my throat and begin reading some of the ones with the greyed out word " draft" next to them...

                                    Most were ideas and starts that just did not work out. Some became material for later posts, after more thought or new experiences gave a different perspective to my vision.

                                         At the end, my finger hesitates over one in particular. I spent five days and nights writing it, reading it and being lost in a very long ago past...

            It is by far the longest post I have ever written; in truth it is a combination of two separate stories written in the span of those five days, and in the end I tied them together, as they should be...

                                          My Wonderful Wife knew the turmoil going on inside her husband and our 3 McMonkeys stepped quietly around me, wondering silently about the far off looks and the glaze in my eyes. Great kids they are, having somehow sensed, I think, that I was in a place they could not go and could not explain to them. They would stop for hugs momentarily and watch , as I erased and rewrote a hundred times, things I had just written, of which I had no idea how to say...

                                                               I finished it.

                                   I read it and reread it a half dozen more times, then handed it to the Wonderful Wife.

                                                        One other person read it...

                                                                   

                                                         It will never be published.

                                         Nothing bad in it, just some personal history and confusions from a very different time. I hope someday that my kids will get the chance to eventually read it, though.

                                                One hell of a cautionary tale...

                                         I made a peace the day it was finished; an uneasy one that required self forgiveness and a gentleness that I never felt OK receiving before.

                                           I still fight it sometimes...

                                                     It is perpetually stuck with the other " drafts" written, obscured by sheer volume of unfinished works...

                        Except that one is finished,  and should probably be read as my eulogy ...

                                                  But like the rest of my life, a life I love in its entirety, the whole deal, in the end, is simply draft...

                                                             Best draft ever...

                                         

                                          

"We are all Jews..."

                             Had breakfast with a good friend recently. We talked about a lot of things, life, politics, relationships...

                    A few days later, he sent me a link about an event that happened during WW2, when Hitler was rounding up and exterminating all the Jews he could find. The trains came to a prisoner of war camp that had about a thousand men that were captured. Most were Americans and other allied soldiers, intermingled with assorted Jewish ones. The German guards ordered all the Jews to come forward and be taken away. When the order was given, all 1000 of the prisoners stepped forward and exclaimed...

                                                             " We are all Jews "

                                        

      The camp Commander pulled out his pistol and put it to the lead POW's head, demanding that the non- Jews step back. 

                                                 He refused to give that order.

                              Every man standing, held that line. The only reply given by all was

                                                              " We are all Jews "

                                                 Not wanting to personally execute every single prisoner and be held accountable for war crimes after the war, the base Commander walked away...

                                 

                               This was the first time I'd read about or even heard about this story.

                                                   

                                                          It gave me Hope.

                                   We are a mess, as a species. The majority of our history can be summarized by the relationship between Cain and Abel. Our capacity for good is amazing, given the right heart set, but sadly, we don't see it, ignore it or flat out deny its presence, most of the time....

                          And in that, we underestimate the most wonderful part of our spirit.

                                       When battle hardened men can see that there is a " right and wrong" and are willing to die for those believing differently, even those whom they hold their own personal predjuces  against, maybe, just maybe, we can too...

                     By being open to what is right, or just flat out refusing to do what's wrong to our brothers and sisters, so different from us...

                                                               So similar, also...

                                            I think about a battle that occurred during the first World War. 

                 Across a battlefield a few hundred feet wide, on Christmas Day, the soldiers from both sides stopped throwing grenades and firing bullets at each other, and began volleying Christmas Carols, instead...

                                           It happened that the Americans recognized the melody to one of the songs that the Germans were singing, and began singing along with them in English...

                                       One fellow walked out on the field with no gun, simply singing..

                                      Others joined from the other side.

                                    Soon, both battalions were singing together, sharing food and tending to their own, and the others wounded. They helped each other burying the fallen, from both sides...

                 They celebrated Jesus, spoke of their families and mourned their dead...

                                                            Together...

                                    

                                  We can be so much more than what we usually choose to be.

                                                     Of course, orders were soon given and that gentle reprieve taken, was soon ended...

                                         Once again we played Cain and Abel.

                                                     As we do till this day.

                                                         No answers, here.

                                                            Just hope.

                                       Naive, stupid, unrealistic hope that maybe we can learn these lessons again, and maybe extend them for a few more days...

                                                      If we could stop this nature for twenty four hours, we could stop it for thirty six. 

                                                            That's almost two days.

                                                   Perhaps we are destined to destroy each other in the spirit of hate and persecution. Maybe it is inescapable.. I read the " Book" and it certainly seems to be...

                            But maybe, in the " in-be tweens" we can learn to stop a few moments and simply love each other, until the "orders" return...

                                    Maybe we can listen to the orders of our own destructive natures, ignore what they compell us to do, and simply step forward in defiance of the dark side of our humanness.

                                         Step forward together and simply say

                                                         "We are all Jews"...

                                        

" Just sitting here watching the wheels go 'round and 'round ..."

                                             I grew up listening to John Lennon. 

                           I wasn't a big fan of The Beatles early years, but when the Later albums came out, with songs like " Revolution ", " Hey Jude", " Yesterday " and "Maxwells Silver Hammer", I was hooked.

                                    The Beatles split up, John took off with Yoko, and I, along with the rest of the sane world,  wondered what the heck is this guy thinking?

                            Then he came out with " Working Class Hero" and " Imagine", and I knew he still had it....

                                                 I tried listening to Yoko's music. 

                                                                 I really did...

                           And I wondered again, what he saw, heard and loved about her...

                                                Then came "Double Fantasy".

                       "Woman", " Starting Over"  and "Watching the Wheels" became some my favorite songs , and as I listened , I experienced something very different in what I was hearing. I heard in them something that was always missing in the rest of all his other compilations...

                                                              Peace.   

                                                            Happiness. 

                                                      Contentment with life...

                          It seems that what one of our all time greatest lyricists had always needed was something so simple and ordinary as just to be a dad...

                                Rocking his son to sleep and being with the woman he loved was what ultimately made him happy...

                                           Not much different than the rest of us...

                                         I listen to " Beautiful Boy" and I know we could have had coffee together at the local McDonalds, sitting near the play land , laughing as our kids got lost in the ball pit.

                                            And I realize what he must have seen in Yoko...

                                  Not exactly, I'm sure, but I know the feeling he must have had for her, because I know what I myself feel for my Wonderful Wife.

                    Laughingly, I see rather clearly that I am the Wonderful Wife's " Yoko".

                                People look at her and think in their heads " What is this woman thinking?!?"

                                              I know this because they tell me. 

      Some actually come up and ask me outright, just what went on in her head that day, the day that she said "yes"... Most of you reading this blog for any amount of time have probably already wondered that, quietly in your own minds ,once or twice.

                                                            I am her Yoko...

                                     In the end, it really doesn't matter. It doesn't matter now for the same reason it didn't matter then.

                                 I love her and inexplicably, she loves me...

                                    We may have a few extra McMonkeys than them, but we have found together, with these children, the same peace, the same happiness and contentment as that same famous and mismatched couple...

                                         No one can really explain it, but if your in it, you know exactly what I'm talking about....

                                           And what his last few songs were about...

                                              I am sad that he died so young.

                         Not because the world lost an amazing talent and amazing songwriter...

                                         That saddens me, but it's not the reason.

                                                I am sad that a man missed the chance to grow with his sons, to see them grow into the men they would become and know that he played some part in them getting there.

                                           I am sad for the boys, not far in age from where mine are now, and have been in the recent past. Missing a dad they love...

                                             I am sad for the wife who people hated for breaking up a group of amazingly talented individuals and allowed her husband to simply be who he was born to be...

                                                        A loving dad, husband...

                                        That is how I remember John Lennon today.

                                                  And I'm glad he found Yoko.....

                                                       

Perils of teens eating off the adult menu...

                            I hijacked the eldest McMonkey yesterday and brought him out grocery shopping. Of course,  I needed to throw in a lunch at 99 restaurant, to finalize the bargaining of the deal.

                           It was a good day. He was helpful, reasonably happy and adolescence moodiness gave way to smiles and laughter. We packed the car with food and headed toward the land of buffalo wings and burgers.

                           Bellies full, we meandered across the parking lot, and into our car. 

                                 Little did I know that he hadn't done #2 in about 3 days...

                                     At 9:00 pm, movie paused and not done with my potato chips, my Wonderful Wife called me to the upstairs toilet. 

                                             I knew that is never a good sign...

                                     He had tried to flush it about half a dozen times before giving up and watching the beginning of our movie. Mare tried flushing it down three more times, after seeing it lodged in the bottom of the porcelain bowl. It would not budge, forward, nor backward; it gave no quarter to the plungers valiant attacks...

                                    I had read on Facebook about a sure fire remedy, using liberal amounts of Dawn dishwashing liquid, buckets of hot water and multiple flushings.

                                             I cursed the internet that night...

                                    Seeing that liquid would eventually flush itself around the brick like obstruction, I resigned myself (and the rest of my family) to the fact it would be a " pee only" fixture for the night.

                                 I generally look forward to Sunday's, but I felt just like Monday was coming with the soon rising sun.

                                  After all the morning showers ( except for mine) I brought up a bucket holding my toilet snake. I pushed the head of it thru the murky water and began turning he handle, hoping to see the snake pull itself dutifully thru the internal porcelain passages and deeper into the 4" copper drain pipe. 

                                                          Dutiful, it was not...

                                                So I reached my hand into the fouled water, pushing the spring-like snake thru the S curved throne. If you haven't done this, realize it is about as easy as pushing a rope up a flagpole...

                                          After the third time I was able to get a nice, powerful sounding and quick draining flush.

                               As I cleaned up the bathroom and sanitized my hands, I thought about, of all things, God and Jesus...

                               God cannot look on sin without judgement so He sent His only Son to be our Advocate. 

                      Jesus lived in a sinful world, loving all, but frequenting the ones who were broken by lives of sin and were trapped in it, the most.

                                       It was Hiim that touched the leper, and his hands that washed filthy feat; they knew the sweat and dirt of a carpenters work and His fingers wrote in the dust, in behalf of a woman caught in sin...

                               Our connection to a Loving God was clogged in much the same way as my toilet was, this morning. I doubt in looking at our own sins, we would see them as any better than the "stuff" that blocked that drain, today...

                              But Jesus put his hand in our filth, opening that conduit that connects us to God, cleaning us and covering Himself in the process, by our sin, staying sinless, Himself.

                                    He died in our guilt and rose immaculately clean, standing beside His Father, as Satan proclaims our sins to God, Jesus just smiles and declares us cleansed by His own Blood.

                                   I jumped in the shower and scrubbed my hands like Jack Nicholson in " As Good as it Gets". I thought of all my sins, those past, but mostly those recent. As the residues that stuck to my skin from my mornings work dripped off of me and down the shower drain, I repented of things I could not cleanse myself with, by soap and water. Knowing how humbling and just plain " ickey" it was plunging thru someone else's mess of poop, I felt small asking Him to do it for me, again...

                                     I wish I did not still sin and did not regularly need cleaning, but I do.

                                                                        I still do...

                                               It breaks me sometimes, this fallible humanness.

                                                                  Almost constantly...

                 But the good news, some of the best news, was written a few thousand years ago.

                              In Heaven I will never sin again. I won't be afraid of sin anymore, and won't dread the temptations thrown daily in my path. 

                                                          I love that thought...