Well done son, well done.

It’s been awhile since I’ve wrote and fitting because lately I’ve been a little empty, a little unsure of what’s going on in my mind. The hustle of everyday life, the caffeine rush in the morning to wake up, the numbing hours of the day throughout, and the Ambien induced haze to usher me to bed at night. Mindless direction of where and how my life is going and where I want to be. At times I feel trapped in a job that adds nothing of value to my life other than means to work another day. I feel trapped somewhere between the safe bet, a steady job, and where I envision I’d like to be. Such is the way of the world…such is the way of the world.

I’ve dealt with family issues over the past year that’s been a struggle to understand, a struggle to try to be the change in a person’s life that clearly doesn’t want to change. I’ve tried to be the buffer from a free fall, careful to catch them, only to learn that rock bottom is the only thing that might get their attention. For if I could save them from that pain I would. Such is the way of the human condition…such is the way of the human condition.

I’ve struggled with faith. I’ve come from the depths of being an atheist in the dark to basking in God’s grace only to find myself now being lazy in my response. I know what is right, what is just, what I must put my blind faith in again and again though I don’t always understand. Yet I have turned inward again, flirting with the goodness that is within Him, yet not giving Him everything, holding tight to the things that I try to fight, and it’s a losing battle. Pride challenged, pride failed, and again I must return like the Prodigal Son. Grace only through Him…Grace only through Him.

November 29th, 2011 marks the year anniversary of the end of my father’s time here on this earth. Last year it was a raining Monday, today the same rain, the same somber mood yet the day falls this time on a Tuesday. Maybe he’ll pull a few strings and get some snow blown in because he knew my mother loved it so. She still grieves for him all the time. I’ve never seen a couple that loved each other like they did, me included, for I was loved as if I were a prince of God’s glory. Damn they loved me so. I loved them the typical way young teenagers loved theirs. In time that love of course maturely evolved. My ideas of a role model slowly blurred the line until I knew not only what I was seeing but what it should always have been, my father.

He was a good man, a fair man, an honest man, a hardworking man, an understanding man, strong man, patient man, and most importantly a loving man willing to do whatever it was to take care of us, a job well done. Such is the way of men…such is the way of men.

The year has flown by in my mind yet at times felt like an eternity. Memories from yesterday briefly haunting me while in those moments I need his help he’s so far beyond. Trying to measure myself to him yet arguing with myself what that might be. Do I sometimes fit his mold or do I improve it. Sometimes the two can feel so different inside that I’m not sure how any of it relates. I do the best I can, I do what I was taught through loving him. The doubt is sometimes there. Such is the way of the mind…such is the way of the mind.

I lost my father on this cold, raining day a year ago today. I’ve found peace in knowing God chose the right time for a great man to leave this earth and take his rightful place in heaven with those that went before him and to those who will shortly follow. There’s a lesson there and I feel I’ve grasped it with a little faith. Faith can give you the answers, understanding is left to each of us to find. I’m still looking for my understanding, still trying to solve my tests with my own life, and the family’s that I spoke of before. Maybe my dad was just winging it too, doing the best he knew how. He was doing a pretty awesome job that’s for sure. I just hope I can continue in his ways, find His grace again, find my voice of reason, find my foothold in my own path, raise my own family, and do as my father had done all those years. Hard work, patience, love, and understanding without all the silly flaws we all tend to carry around as our security blanket. When I meet his face again, I want to hear him say “well done son”…”well done son.”

I love you dad and I miss you so much it hurts. But I’ll see you again on the other side and we can walk hand in hand towards the sunset and catch up again. You’re gone now but never, never forgotten.

I Dream of 63

"Black Betty"

As I sit behind the large steering wheel and stare down that long, black hood I can’t help but to smile. Driving down the street I get double takes, thumb ups, and waves but I can only think of one smile that would’ve outshined them all, my father’s.

When I was 12 or maybe 13, my dream car was a 1963 Chevy Impala Super Sport. I shared the love for classic cars with my dad, his favorite being the 1957 Chevy. He always carried a picture of his old 57 Chevy in his wallet so that passion for old steel would be mine as well. I’m not sure what it was about the 63 that drew me in, maybe the rap music I enjoyed as a kid, maybe the countless Lowrider magazines I thumbed through, or maybe it was its massive size with sharp angles with the six tailights embedded in a polished aluminum trunk lid wrapped in chrome. I don’t know which idea took hold, I just knew it was my car.

We would set off together for long drives during the weekend to seek out a 63. We’d drive through the country, through back roads, even through ghetto streets. Along the way we found some. Most the owners were stubborn and didn’t want to sell, only to see the car continue to rust years later. The others were struck with devastating rust already. The car proved elusive for a few years.

Just before the summer of the year I was 14 we struck gold. A man he came across had a goldmine of old cars scattered throughout his property and claimed to have two 63′s. We made our way through the junk and carcasses of old cars and parts and found them. They were pretty rough but my blood raced in knowing what lay before me. The restoration of a car would take both. It would take years of hard work and a lot of money but I was sold.

The man only wanted $400 for the pair. I was amazed and beside myself. My father, in doing the right thing by teaching me a valuable lesson at a young age told me when I raised the money we would return and buy them. I soon set off throughout the neighborhood cutting grass and doing odd jobs to make extra money. By the end of the summer I was ready to return and take the cars home. Gloom struck when the man explained that he had taken the cars to a scrapyard months prior to have them crushed for extra cash. My dream shattered, I returned home defeated. For years we continued to search but without luck. Finally I gave into the idea of a dream lost.

That was then, this is now. We all fall into routine, accept things as they are, get comfortable in going with the flow, and sit idle as dreams die. Sometimes, just sometimes, we need a shock to our system, something to jar us from the mindless hum of everyday life, of the expected, of our dying youth, of our dying dreams. I guess you can say my shock was the loss of my father. My world is the same but yet has forever changed. I still get caught up at times in the mindless hum of life ticking by but his passing has waken my conscious to experience. No longer do I let all moments pass by, now I see certain moments with clarity, reach out, and grab them when I can.

The dream car, the 63 Impala, well I grabbed it. After seeing it for sale on Craigslist I thought to myself, why not? I’m 32, I’m not getting any younger, my future will probably hold a wife and kids, I will never have such an opportunity again…life is short. After debating it, and yes, even asking for advice on Facebook, it was clear that others also thought it better to follow my dreams. Afterall, how often can you follow a dream and see it through? I’m happy to say I followed this one through.

So as I sit behind that large steering wheel, stare down that long, black hood, I smile. I smile in knowing that I have finally accomplished one of the things I always wanted to. I’ve closed that chapter in my life with an exclamation mark. I’ve taken possession of a heavy piece of steel that connects me to another time in history with my father. Once more life has come full circle and I hope it continues until I’m dizzy with laughter.

Change

How long can you ignore the voice within your own head? Is this the voice of reason, intuition, or the voice of God directing us outward to where we belong? Lately my own inner voice has grown from a whisper to now a shout. It all centers on where I’m at in life, mainly my career. Not everyone is happy with their job, that is a given. I’m not where I feel I belong. I’m not challenged, I’m not growing, I’m not learning…I’m in limbo. When the ceiling is so low that you can reach it just by standing on your toes, there’s no excuse to spread wings and take flight. Where is the adventure or reward in that? Sure it’s the safe bet, the stability, but at what cost when it dashes our dreams, dulls our spirit, chokes away our own soul? I’m not walking away until I’ve put together a plan of action, but when I stop and think about past moments of great change in my life, it’s at those times that I never felt so alive.

Night Eyes

Where do you find yourself in the silence of the night?
Can you bare yourself or do you run in fright?
Are you comfortable within your own skin?
Do you like your path or would you choose to begin again?
Do thoughts tremble through your mind at a reckless pace?
Or have you removed yourself from life’s dizzying race?

I was unsure on where I stood.
I was always wishing on what I should.
Wishing, not acting had me falling fast behind.
I grew tired of wishing of not that was mine.
There comes a point when you’re up against a wall.
I chose fight, never willing to fall.
I now stand in awe from the silence of the night.
I feel bold, no longer feel fright.
I’m at home within my own skin.
My path was crooked but now I clearly see the end.
Thoughts come easy, vivid in rich detail.
The race is hard but yet I will have prevailed.

Have faith, you too, even in the darkest of night.
For a fool such as I can master his own domain, turn his wrongs to right.
Learn one simple rule and reap the rest.
Time is a marker but patience is the final test.

Pillars

From life comes death
From death comes life
As one carries strife
The other carries peace
Emotions and questions seem to follow
The complexity of the unknown
The blowing trumpets mark it’s call
A death is not a loss for in it you may find answers, self truths that you were unaware
Life passing you by so fast these things not caught or you didn’t care
But when peace finds a body and the soul seperates in order to grow on
Others are left to contimplate, reap the lessons they must sow
Hold tight to these truths that are given onto you
Reflect and steady yourself
Find peace in knowing your true values, teach, reap, sow
As pillars crumble we must shoulder the load
Without such support it is you and I, he and she, that will erode
Shared obligation or mutual values, it’s one of the other
Without it we’re doomed to crumble, we fail each other
I hold out my hand to you now
Will you do your part and take it
Squeeze it and hold with all your heart
Dare not to fake it

Pillars

The sunlight peeks through the curtain
Falling softly on your hair
I sit in wonder
Suprised that you’re actually here
As you sleep I lay silently
Grinning from ear to ear
My page is finally turning
A new chapter finally here
Funny how life turns with the blow of the wind
Funny how when you’ve given up it happens again
It’s like it prepares you to see things more clearly
To hold more valuable and true
Despite what your head tells you
The heart always rules
Sleeping beauty your presence eases me so
I throw my arm around you softly
Daring never to let you go
Dreams are stirring in that head of yours
While dreams being fulfilled in the head of mine

Whispers from ripples

My life whispers from ripples on still waters. No stone was cast that formed these ripples, only but teardrops. I shed these for my father. Taken by an aweful disease so unfitting for a great man. A man I strive to be. A man I strive to somehow please. Our generations are different but our bond was true. His moral compass has built my own that I carry with me now, constantly guiding me through what it takes to be a good man both inside and out. I lost my best friend, my best man, my role model, my father. Months have gone by and still I smile and laugh. I don’t feel anymore joy in my life, I use it as an escape. Life is tough and will beat you down in a hurry if you don’t take it in stride and fight back harder. I’m a fighter. I’m a fighter with a missing corner man, a missing coach, struggling through many more rounds. I take the basic foundation taught to me and somehow learn a little more each time. I can hear him saying to me now, “you’re gonna have to cowboy up.” always said with a smile, in fact, I’ve never know him to wear anything other than a smile. Such a good man, such a missed man. I’m trying to do what’s right now because he would expect me too. When we meet once again in Heavan, I just want to hear him say “I’m proud of you” nothing more nothing less. I just want to hear that voice, that laugh, and see that smile. I don’t cry much these days. I hold it all within and when I can break away alone the tears will flow. I wish he would come into my dreams and talk to me, let me know he’s ok and that I’m remaining strong for him and my mother. I wish I could touch his hand, rub the back of his head, or just feel a good hug from the man I adore. He gave me a peculiar look during his final hours. By then his speech was no longer available but the sheer look in his eye had told me what he needed me to do. Take care of your mother and know I loved you both with all my heart. I’ll see you guys soon on the other side. Losing a part of your being is hard. We will all go through it at our own times. It never makes it easy and no two people grieve the same. I show my grief in the darkness of the night for when the sky is clearist so that I may just see his face again. I miss and love you Dad.

Your only son
Zac

Whispers from ripples

With the new year I’ve awaited impatiently hoping it’s coming marks the end of one chapter and the start of a new. The past year has not been kind. It began with doubt and ended with loss. It began with being preoccupied with foolish things and ended with the painful realization of what matters. It began with hope but ended with frustration. Farewell 2010.

With it’s passing, also too a bit of innocense slipped away with the passing of my father. The last bit of youth lost in the cruel dance of life. And while it can bring you to your knees like a ruptured disc, a new understanding and a profound shift in priorities are born. Here I sit, eyes wide open.

A new year brings about new possibilities and outcomes, wins and losses, good times and the bad, rights and wrongs, new experiences and routine, the list goes on and on. While it may just be another set of calender days, symbolically it provides a chance to wipe the slate clean, set new goals, chart a new direction, and dream about what could be as opposed to what the previous year was not.

I’m not making any resolutions this year. I’m not pulling the classic psychological psych out only to let myself down a month or so later. Why start a new year with small defeats? I’m not writing my new chapter with the foreshadowing of a tragedy.

In 2011 I will simplify. I will do only two things. I will strive for extra ordinary things or I will fail miserably trying. That is all, plain and simple. I will try new things, make new friends, make new memories, visit new places, laugh harder, love stronger, scare myself more, pray harder, give more, and love myself more. There’s a million other things I’ll do, each in it’s own time. I will fight harder for each of these things or fall flat on my face trying. Skinned knees, elbows, and busted face be damned, it’s mine to take. I want memories that will last a lifetime, stories I will carry with me, look back on, smile, laugh, cry, then laugh some more.

In fact, from this day forward and forever, this will be my resolution. No more silly goals that affect only one small area of my life, but life changing goals that make a lifetime. I want to bring the innocense back into my life that I haven’t had since I was a kid. A view of the world with childlike wonder through a clear pair of eyes.

I want to live as there’s no tomorrow. When my head hits the pillow at night, I want to sleep as if I’ve lived two days into one. I want to live life as it’s meant to be lived so farewell 2010 and hello life…

Father Time

I put my father’s watch on for the first time last night. While that might not sound like an earth shattering event, internally it was for me. It’s a beautiful watch given to him by his former employer for the number of years he spent there. He was proud of it but at the same time it marked a bittersweet passing knowing that his family outside of his real family was coming to an end. He valued the watch as a symbol of the many years, stories, and friendships that he was blessed with along the way.

I saw the watch for what it was. A gift for his service to his company, a hefty piece of Swiss engineering, and a valuable timepiece. It didn’t represent the same emotional ties and memories as it did for my father but that would change.

Before my father got sick he told me he wanted me to have his watch when he passed. I brushed it off, hoping it would be many years before such a realization would take place. My father wore his own fathers watch after he had passed and now he was offering me the same. For many years he wore it with pride, not only carrying a piece of his father in his heart but also wearing a reminder of time on his wrist in an old faded timepiece. I never gave it much thought then but time and circumstance seem to have a way of opening the eyes.

So now I wear my fathers watch. It fits loosely on my wrist, reminding me that my father was much more of a man than I am now. I will have it resized but internally I hope to grow as a man to fit his stature in the eyes of friends and family as well. I will wear his watch proudly, protecting it with my life, all the while reminded when looking at it that time marches on. We’re not guaranteed another turn of the hands but we’re blessed with each second that it counts off. I hope to make the best of my time remaining, God willing.

Passing The Relay

I could never fail to mention that through your fatherly love you were also my best friend. Jokes and pranks, we had some good times. The unconditional love we once shared. I looked up to you with youthful eyes and in your calm willing attitude you taught me the moral fabric of what it means to have conviction. A conviction others can see as a common bond that you and I will share until I can pass it own to my own generation. My father has built a large legacy in my heart and mind. With that legacy I’ll carry with me until my time on earth too shall pass. It’s in that time I hope my offspring knows you from the stories we tell to the lessons we hand down to my future son. My father lives on through me and God willing, through you.

When the circle is complete there will be a moment of awakening within us all that reflects my good father’s legacy. Still thrives, still teaches, and remains alive in each and everyone of us today. May your whisper carry on and find my ears, your love find my heart, your reason find my mind, and my idenity to find my place.

Until we meet again I’ll carry on your work, your spirit, and your legacy. I couldn’t imagine this day would come but I welcome the possibility that you left it to me. Left to me by the way our fates collided in the beginning when our eyes 1st met to the moment we shared our last. For it’s a labor of love and I’ll hold on tight.