The Sunday morning country club.

     If I had to distill the experience of an outsider visiting the modern American church into a 3 minute video, this would be what I would choose.

    Despite the best of intentions most modern churches are primarily places to socialize on a Sunday morning.   I recently visited a church and my primary impression was "I'm not cool enough to be here".  No one did anything to make me unwelcome but this club was clearly the realm of the pretty and popular crowd.  I can't imagine what a poor single mom would feel when they walked in wearing goodwill clothes and worn out shoes.  There is a reason that I refer to the modern church "the Sunday morning country club".

    I've been applying for membership to this club for most of my life.  Every time I've tried to find a church family I've found myself on the outside looking in.  When people tell me "you just have to find the right church" I used to believe them.  However I've been ignored and forgotten falling through the cracks at the last 5 churches I've attended and I simply can't take that rejection again.  Our family attended a church in East Texas for 4 years but when we finally gave up, no one noticed.  When my wife died unexpectedly, and made the national news, I heard from so many random people but no one from Mobberly sent so much as a text message.   

    After 45 years of having the church doors slammed in my face, I can only conclude that that is where God wants me.  I will never understand why God didn't want me to have a church family like everyone else but God is God and I am not.  

    I know that the church is made up of flawed and imperfect people.  I certainly don't expect every church to be a perfect fit for every person.  I'm perfectly happy serving in the engine room of the church.  However the opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy and my kids have been forgotten by every church I've ever attended.  I honestly believe that there is not a single person in any church that knows or cares about my children exist much less know the Lord.  

    The most galling thing is that while growing up in the church I saw the church caring for each other like they are supposed to.  When my father's refinery union went on strike in 1989 I remember sitting in the principles office filling out the forms for free lunch.  My dad's friend put him to work at his auto shop.  One night after the Sunday evening service we met at one of their friend's house.  I walked in to the biggest pile of groceries I had ever seen. Every family in their small group had brought a bag of food for what was once known as a "pounding".  I remember driving home buried under loaves of bread and seeing Madeline Wright shove some folded cash into my dad's hand.  Those families saw a brother and sister in need and stepped up.

 If you want to see what the church is supposed to look like here it is.

    The church is supposed to be a place where the injured help the wounded, a place where the lost can find shelter, a place where the family takes care of each other.   I wish that someone would prove me wrong but I don't expect that I'll ever fin 

Second year of Aerobatics

    This is such a fun niche of the aviation world that I have only begun to discover.  

 

    I completed my 1st year of aerobatic competition in my Citabria flying at the contests in Hondo and Edna TX in the primary division.  I was the only pilot in primary in those two contests and won by default, but the trophies are nice.  My scores improved each time and I learned a lot more in the process of  being apart of these events.  My goal for the first year was to win the Texas series championship in Primary which I was glad to receive a trophy at the following year's Lone Star Aerobatic Championship.

    After having a lot of fun the first year, I set my 2nd year goal of being able to fly in the Sportsman division.  This division is more challenging for pilots flying high performance airplanes and the sequence is basically the most I can do with the 118hp Citabria.  I spent the spring practicing the more difficult sequence and got relatively comfortable with the figures I would have to fly.  Each practice run would leave me out of breath and exhausted.  I never got the chance to have another pilot judge my flying so I had no idea of how good or bad I was flying.

    Finally May rolled around and I was happy to be a part of the 2024 Lone Star Aerobatic Championship and compete in the higher division.  I enjoyed meeting the other pilots and flying the more exciting sequence.  My main goal was to fly three clean runs and let the scores fall where they may.  My scores weren't high, but I was happy with them considering the equipment I was working with.  At the end of the weekend I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I had placed 8th out of 13 pilots.  

    Unfortunately the next competition in Kansas City was canceled due to weather and I suffered from maintenance issues over the summer so I didn't get to practice as much as I would have liked.  However with the slow schedule at work I made the decision to enter the two remaining Texas competitions and sign up for the IAC Nationals in September.   I knew I was hopelessly outclassed in airplane, but I just wanted to go an enjoy the experience and learn from the other pilots competing at that level.

    In September the contest at Hondo was a great warm up for the Nationals.  I got to fly against several pilots and really work on improving my scores.  I got some good advice on how to fly the more difficult figures so they would look better to the judges.  When I got back I immediately got to work cleaning up the airplane as much as I could.  I knew I would have top scores, but at least I could have a nice looking aircraft.  I was able to get my parents to come down to Ft Worth to help watch the kids for the week and Saturday  morning I was heading North before the sun was even up.

    Once I arrived in Salina KS I went through the usual paperwork and inspections that I had done before at every contest.  The only difference was the scale, Nationals had ninety pilots competing this year.  Just like any big operation it was a lot of hurry up and wait.  I was excited to meet the younger kids on the college teams.  I managed to fly the last practice session before a heavy storm rolled in.  Once I landed I discovered I couldn't make the turn off the runway with the strong winds pushing my tail around.  I had to shut down, jump out, physically push my plane off the runway, realign it into the wind, and then hop back in to taxi to the hangar.  Once I got to the hangar doors, about ten kids from the college team grabbed the wings and tail to push it into the hangar.  

    The rest of the contest flew by.  I was assigned to help judges who were scoring the intermediate and primary divisions.  I had never seen the gliders fly competition aerobatics before so that was a new experience.  My first two flights went ok, but the judges were strict and I didn't score as high as I would have liked, but my third flight scored about as well as I could expect.  One thing that was really nice about the nationals was that every flight was videoed and live-streamed on Youtube.  I actually got to watch myself fly the sequence right after landing which was great for learning from my mistakes.  Most importantly my boys got to watch me fly from home.  

    At the end of the week I was ready to fly home.  I had met my goal of three clean runs, and finished 2nd to last.  I had approached this event as one where I would be competing against myself and was generally happy with my scores and what I had accomplished.  Three weeks later I flew again at the Texas 2 Step in Edna which should be N86594's last contest.  Earlier this summer I had purchased a Pitts S1C and next year I won't be limited by the airplane I am flying, I'll only have myself to blame.  

    Flying aerobatics has been so much fun and has made me a much better and confident pilot. 

"We're praying for you"

Please stop.  

    The phrase "we've been praying for you" is yet another cheap platitude that is more insulting than reassuring and does nothing more than to make you feel good.  I honestly take it as more an insult than a blessing.   All that tells me is that you want to make yourself feel better without actually doing anything. 

    First, I don't believe for one second that you've given me or my family a second thought much less have been pouring your heart out to God on our behalf.  If you don't know any details about me or my family (such as how many kids I have) then I have zero belief that you are constantly praying over us.  Truth be told, I don't believe that there is anyone in any church, anywhere that even knows my kids exist.  I do know for a fact that no one in the church cares about my kids (or at least not enough to reach out to them).

   

    Second, the Apostle Paul said "5Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

See prayer is an expression of faith but just like faith without works it is dead unless it is followed up by practical action.  I'd much rather have your help than your prayers.  Most single parents are drowning under the crushing load of work, chores, bills, errands, doctor/dentist visits.   Before you pray for me, help me catch up on laundry, dishes, mow the grass.  

If I need real help, the church is last place I search for it.  My first call is to my unrepentant heathen brothers in the military.  I never have to wonder if they will come through for me.

  

  Third, prayer request time is usually a thinly veiled act of gossip, victimhood, bragging, and virtue signaling.   Some of the requests are genuine but far too many are nothing more than a way to grab attention and sympathy.  It gets quite ridiculous at times. 

    Prayer has real power.  To quote a USAF survival manual "Regardless if a deity is actually listening, there is a real impact in stating you needs and fears out loud."   Speaking aloud what we are afraid of, grateful for, worried about, and hope to come has both psychological and spiritual real effects.  However as James noted those prayers need to be followed up with real action.

    So if you care about me and my family at all, please stop praying for me and come fold my laundry.

The social media "highlight reel" problem.

    This past summer my family and I went on our usual long summer road trip.  We were able to visit DC, NYC, Boston and New England.  After this summer the kids can say that they've set foot in all of the lower 48 states.  I had a great time showing the kids around the sites where our nations early history actually happened.  I enjoyed sharing pictures on Facebook and Instagram with plenty of positive comments from family and friends commenting on our adventures.  

   However,  those pictures don't show the whole picture.  There's no picture of draining the sewage line from the RV.  No video of the epic meltdown by my 9 year old.  No record of the dozens of fights between brothers.  No consideration of the substantial expense of fuel, food, and activities.  Yuck!

    That's the biggest problem with social media.  We only see the highlight reel of people's lives and never the whole reality.  The reality is messy and nowhere near as glamorous as our "highlight reel" makes things look.  

    By itself this isn't a problem but inevitably it leads to us comparing our lives to our friends top ten moments.  All media has done this for ages leaving us with unrealistic standards to judge ourselves against.  It's such an easy trap to fall into even if you know it's there that most of us can't help ourselves.  

    We see our friends all living their "perfect" lives and think that somehow we are less than those perfect people on our social media.  In reality, they have plenty of fumbles, errors, bad calls, and interceptions that they just didn't share with you.

Turning my world upside down.

     This all started with me doing something really stupid.  

 

    After two years of owning an aerobatic capable airplane I told my self that I could try a simple roll.  Well, that was my annual reminder that I can be a complete idiot.  I screwed up the maneuver and wound up doing an ugly split S with the airspeed indicator past redline as I recovered.  Turns out that you really should get proper instruction before flipping your airplane upside down.  

    Ok, I wasn't a complete idiot.  My airplane is certified for aerobatic maneuvers and I started out with plenty of altitude.  I had done rolls and loops before as part of an "upset recovery" course so I thought I remembered how to do a proper roll.  As it turned out, I had selected the maneuver, a right slow roll, that my plane was most challenged by.

    After I had reminded myself that I'm stupid, I resolved to get proper training.  For my birthday I signed myself up for some aerobatic lessons with a local flight school.  They used a Decathlon which is very similar to my Citabria.  I was excited to learn how to properly fly some basic aerobatics.  After we were done, Curt told me "well, go home and practice these in your plane."   I honestly hadn't really considered that, but he was right.  The next time I went up I was able to fly loops, rolls, hammerheads, and cuban 8s.    It was like I had found a whole airplane that I didn't know I had.

    A month or so later a chance encounter at a regional fly in with a member of the local IAC chapter and I was able to see the routine for the Primary (or beginner) category.  I remember thinking "I can do all of these one at a time, I just have to string them together."  The next few times I went up I practiced the primary sequence and eventually signed up for a three day aerobatic training camp nearby.  That was a fun and intense few days of flying where I was able to make significant improvements in my flying.

    When May rolled around it was time for my first aerobatic competition.  I quickly discovered that it is a lot of "hurry up and wait" but it was also very educational.  I was assigned to assist one of the judges when I wasn't flying and was able to see what they were looking for.  Two of my boys were able to come watch me fly and watch the other pilots wring their airplanes out.

    When the contest was over I had placed third in the Primary division.  Considering the pilots and airplanes I was competing against, I am very happy with this result.  I hope to continue competing and flying my airplane in this new and exciting area.

No tears in Heaven?

      "Sinners in the hands of an angry God" is one of the most famous sermons of the 18th century.  It was a pivotal defining moment in modern Christianity leading to the first "Great Awakening" movement sweeping across America.  This mindset of God's condemnation has become so pervasive that the common perception of the lost is one of "God sending someone to Hell" for their sins.

    In June 1944 there were two great amphibious landings.  Everyone knows the importance of D-Day in Normandy but also 10 days later in the Pacific the Marines invaded the island of Saipan.  The invasion force consisted of 500 ships and 120000 men.  At Saipan the Japanese civilians and the native Chamorro people were told great lies about the brutality they could expect from the American invaders.  While the Japanese army had in fact been guilty of indiscriminate killings and rapes all across the theater, the US invaders would do nothing of the kind.   Any criminal conduct was rare and the military planners had brough food, medical supplies, and even pre-fabricated housing for the civilian population of the island.

    Despite all these measures the many of the civilians fled to the far north of the island as the Marines forced the Japanese to retreat.  Once there they had nowhere to run and believing the lies that they had been told many civilians decided to jump to their deaths into the shark filled waters below.  They had believed the lie that the Marines were coming to destroy them.  Marines that had spent weeks fighting and killing Japanese soldiers watched in horror as civilian old men and women threw their children and then themselves into the ocean.

 

Banzai Cliff Saipan

    Despite the common belief that God sits in Heaven waiting to judge anyone who has for whatever reason broken any of his arbitrary rules, the reality is quite different and much more tragic.  The reality is that God sits in Heaven in complete heartbreak while he watches helpless as thousands of people he loves throw themselves over the cliff.  

     No matter how badly he wants to, God can't force us to love him.  He can't stop us from walking away from him and throwing ourselves off that cliff.  Any parent who has lost a child to addiction or other self destructive behavior knows exactly how God feels about his lost children.  You would do anything in your power to , but you can't make the choice for them.

    The Bible notes how "Jesus Wept" after the death of his friend Lazarus which is one of the many examples of how God posses the entire range of emotions that we do.  He grieves even more for those that are lost than we humans ever can.  He rejoices for those that do turn off the wide road and come back to him even more than we can conceive.  

This video shows exactly how God feels about the lost.

        In June 1944, 18 year old PFC Guy Gabaldon was part of the invasion force.  From Mexican descent, he lived and was partially raised by a Japanese family learning the language.  He enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1943 and was assigned to the 2nd Marines preparing for the invasion.  Once the invasion force landed, his conversational Japanese was in high demand integrating prisoners.  At night he snuck out beyond the American lines and started convincing Japanese soldiers and civilians to surrender.  

    Ultimately "The Pied Piper of Saipan" would facilitate the peaceful surrender of 1500 people who would have otherwise been killed outright or have jumped off those cliffs.  He wasn't always successful and was eventually wounded by some of the holdouts during the final days of the battle.  His heroic actions earned him the Navy Cross (the second highest award for valor).

    Despite our best efforts to run away from God and refuse to follow his path, God came down to Earth and lived among us.  He chose to sacrifice himself so that we would have a way home.   He loves us so much that he would do anything to give us the opportunity to turn back to him.  That is the message of Easter.

Death and Taxes

 

    Its amazing how something that is inevitable and happens to couples every day is never discussed much.  I understand how many people want to avoid talking about loosing the most important person in their lives, but this hit is coming and you need to brace yourself.

       Turns out every one of us has a fatal disease called life and despite all the advances of modern medicine, these bodies of ours mostly don't last past 80 years.  That means that we are all going to die some day and if we are part of a married couple and/or have children that depend on us someone is going to have to handle the aftermath.  Some will have this process drawn out over a long period of time others like me get hit suddenly out of nowhere. 

    Losing a spouse is one of the biggest emotional traumas that happens to a person, but it's as inevitable as the sun setting and rising each day.  So many people don't want to think about it but that is the wrong approach to take with this subject.  It may seem morbid to some, but accepting and planing for what happens after someone you love dies will make the hit slightly less painful (it's still going to hurt plenty).

    The first and most important advice is to hold on to whatever will keep you moving and out of the pit of depression that grief can pull you down into.  For me, my kids still had to be care for and that kept me from drowning in my grief.  Even when I felt like nothing more than looking at her pictures and crying, there would be some issue with the kids that needed attention.  Church, work, school, kids, volunteering, whatever it is that makes you get up, get dressed, and out of your grief bubble, you need to embrace it.

    Secondly is to acknowledge that your brain is not at 100% when dealing with grief.  To the maximum extent possible avoid making any big life changing decisions until you are thinking somewhat clearly.  The common advice is 6 months, but that will vary by each individual.  When Sarah passed, I decided very quickly that we would not be making any big changes till the end of the kids school year.  They needed the stability and familiarity of their neighborhood friends and schools for the first year.

    Everyone is going to want to talk to you about "what happened?"  It was particularly so in my case because of the sudden and unexpected nature of Sarah's passing as well as the media coverage.  It will be painful to retell the story of the worst day of your life, but it also makes you face things and will get easier over time.  Of course, "I don't like to talk about it" is a perfectly acceptable response too.

    Everyone will give you their advice, just smile and say thanks.  Only you know what is going to be best for you and your family.  Find a handful of trusted friends or family whose wisdom and advice you can count on.

 

    There are quite a few hidden pitfalls that surprised me (and many other widows/ers I've spoken too).   Hearing that these experiences are normal and common to everyone who goes through this has helped me deal with them as they hit.

    The one that everyone avoids talking about and surprised me most was "Widow's Fire".  You go from a happy, healthy, married sex life to instantly "no one is ever going to look at me that way again".  That is a big shock to your system.  Your body is used to the physical intimacy and dopamine hits from being with your spouse so it releases hormones craving what was lost.  In this day and age there are a multitude of ways to handle this poorly.  

    The biggest shock is how many friends you will lose through this process.  Everyone will tell you "if there's anything you need, just call" but a few months after the funeral they will all fade away.  The biggest gut-punch will be the people you thought you would be able to count on, but they let you down.  However, you will be surprised by someone who you never thought of who will become your rock.

    The first year is a giant shock to your system and every anniversary is a painful reminder that your partner isn't there with you anymore.  First birthday without them, first Christmas with an empty stocking, first summer vacation on your own, and many more.  Each one is a gut punch that will hurt.

    The second year is the worst for many people.  Everyone assumes that you are doing OK but you are most definitely not OK.  However as long as you keep your focus on the future and keep moving forward you will get through it.  At some point your grief will go into remission.  It will always be with you but your life will go on.

A Family for Everyone?

   At my church there is a big sign in the lobby that says "a family for everyone" and I roll my eyes every time.  They are good people and honestly mean it when they try to include everyone, but even the most dedicated outreach will miss someone who is drowning right under their noses.

    Some time ago a friend reposted this picture of a lion chasing a zebra colt with the caption "when people say they don't need the church."  The implication is that we are safer in the herd of the church family where we are safely protected by our close association of our close relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ.

                                    

    There is a problem with this metaphor, zebras don't have families.  They don't give a damn if that poor zebra colt gets eaten.  They only associate into herds because the odds of being attacked drop dramatically with large numbers of other targets in close proximity.  In this picture there are a dozen zebras looking at the child about to be eaten and they are passively looking on with an expression of "glad that's not me".  

    What that caption is assuming is that zebra are like horses.  Horses have a tight knit family that will fight for each other.  If there had been a foal in danger from a lion, the stallion would be charging, the mares would be guarding the other foals, and the lion would be the one running for its life.  If one of their herd is injured, they will surround and guard the hurt family member as long as possible until they recover.  Lions still get their fair share of horses, but not without the family doing everything possible to protect the lost.

    That's where today's church is failing miserably.  Today's church is what I like to call "the Sunday morning country club" where all the wonderful popular people go to see and be seen.  Meanwhile the hurt and wounded are simply abandoned and left to bleed out on the front steps.  Far too many people come looking for some connection and are simply excluded from the cliques that tend to form.    

    The most damning example of this in my life is the way our church forgot about my children. My older kids have all quit attending because they felt ignored and excluded.  No one at the church even noticed or cared that three orphan kids just disappeared.  James 1:27 specifically commands the church to minister to widows and orphans, but today's church seems to deliberately exclude single parents and their kids.

    Of course many people have had a good experience and have found a community in the local church.  I'm genuinely happy that so many have had a very different experience at church than I did.  Some have been welcomed with open arms and I'm glad they were.  However, it hasn't been that way for me and my family.

    

What was mommy like?

     A couple years after Sarah passed, we were visiting San Antonio and I was pointing out places where we had lived and explored when we lived there.  As I was driving away I had the sudden realization that all those stories would die with me and the kids wouldn't have any way to know what kind of person their mother was.  The scrapbooks, piles of pictures, and other memorabilia are great but need context to fill out  into a complete story.

    Andrew and James were too young to remember anything beyond the vaguest memories.  Patrick, Laura, and Clint remember her but they don't know anything about her early life, what her childhood was like, how she and I met, what our life was like before they were born, and what kind of person she was.    Those memories are an important part of what kind of person they will grow into.  

    So when I got back from that trip I decided to write Sarah's biography.  I would write out her life story as best I could and print it out on hard paper for them.  I took some diaries that Sarah had written where I could quote her directly, and solicited memories from people who had known her before to supplement my own recollections.  

    Once I had enough data I started writing out the story of her life.  Her early life I only had a few notes and my memories of what she had told me about her upbringing.  I'm sure that I didn't paint a full picture but I was able to give a basic outline of her first 20 years.  I had to be delicate about how much detail to include without upsetting her mother.  Sarah had a difficult relationship with her parents, her dad in particular.  Everything I knew bout the Springer family came from hearsay and I didn't see the upside to pissing off my in-laws, so I omitted some details.

    Once we got to Sept 1999, I was on more familiar territory pulling from my own memory.  I was writing the story manifestly from my own perspective, but I tried my best to include all the ups and downs of our early relationship.  It was a wonderful trip down memory lane full of funny stories, adventures, long times apart, and eventually a wedding.

    I chronicled the process of her admission and studies at Med School.  Her struggles matching into a residency, eventually completing her training as an Emergency Physician treating patients in the emergency room of the hospital.  She loved her job despite all the challenges that the chaos in the ER.

    At the end I did the best I could to recount the circumstances of her sudden and untimely passing.  I referenced the NPS report and what I learned from a couple of phone calls with the people involved and compiled a basic narrative of what happened.  This was a hard chapter to write, but I hope that knowing the details of what happened will help everyone heal.

    Once I was done, I had someone properly edit my poor grammar and had several hard copies printed up.  I gave one to all the kids with a lock of her hair tucked inside and a personal note written in the front cover.  I also gave hard copies to Sarah's parents, brothers, and some of the close friends.  I sent these out as Christmas gifts.

       One aspect of this project that I didn't anticipate was that working through this would put a lid on my grief process.   By the time I was done writing Sarah's story on paper I had a sense that my grief was now in remission.  My memories of Sarah were preserved for our kids to reflect on when they get older.  

"You're such a great dad!!!!"

    If there is a single phrase that pisses me off more than any other its this one, "You're such a great dad!"

    I always replay "Thank you" but really I am thinking "How the hell would you know?  You don't know me or my kids, much less have spent enough time with them to know if I'm a good dad or not."  Telling me "you're a good dad" implies that you have seen my effort to parent my kids and judged the results to be at least above average.  It also implies that you have a close relationship with me and my kids and seen what we look like when things are messy and falling apart.  A true judgment of my character requires you to see me when I fall down on my ass (which happens a lot more than I'd like).   People who know me and are invested enough to point out my failures are virtually non-existent.

    Outside of a handful of close family most of the people on social media and casual acquaintances couldn't even name all my kids.  I think the list of people who really know my kids is less than can be counted on two hands, and all the rest are just saying meaningless platitudes or are reacting to the social media highlight reel of our vacations.  I'm proud of the adventures that are documented on Facebook, but that's not why I plan them.  I would prefer that we could share some of these travels with family or friends in person.

    The simple facts are that my family is surviving, not thriving.  A single dad with 5 kids (2 that are autistic) has an uphill battle under the best of circumstances but trying to do this job with no support network from family, friends, or church is one man doing a three man job.  The church is absolutely worthless to single parents, and modern day extended family is even worse.  I think my kids have only met  one set of their cousins once or twice in their entire lives.  The church used to supply a surrogate family that could fill in, but today's church didn't even notice when we stopped coming.

    Every family has their struggles but mine are compounded by the social isolation of only having a single dad.  Then that issue is multiplied by my spiritual gift of social invisibility which has regrettably been passed on to my kids.  I'm currently preparing for my 9 year old's birthday don't think I can take another party with no guests.  My 13 year old struggles with autism just bad enough to make him socially awkward, but he understands enough to know what he is missing.  When my daughter pours her heart out to me about not being able to make friends at school, I don't have anything to say other than "get used to it" (which I obviously don't say).  If the primary job of a parent is to get our kids ready for independence then I am failing.  

    Sarah would have been a lot better at this. She would have been able to give the kids the attention and guidance they need.  She would have been able to maintain the adult relationships that would give the kids the network of friends they need.

    I guess I should give myself some credit where it's due.  I have seen plenty of stories of single parents who crawled into a bottle and neglected their kids.  I've managed to clear that low bar.  However that would be like saying I was a hero just because I served my full USMC enlistment during peacetime.  It means that I have done just enough to keep CPS from taking my kids away.

    If any of these people really cared about me or my kids they would pick up the phone and call.  If they wanted my kids to thrive they would be reaching out to help them.  Jesus said "If you love me, feed my sheep" and my sheep need all the help they can get.  

Instead of being an encouragement, "you're a great dad" is actually a slap in my face because I know better.  I'm mediocre at best and hearing meaningless platitudes from people who can't be bothered to reach out and actually help just pisses me off.

I would like to specially mention the handful of people who really have stepped up to help my kids.  Our old neighbors who have been my first call for the past 5 years, the ladies in my life who reached out to my daughter, and my brother and sister in law who have invited and hosted us often.  You guys have been a rock that I could lean on when I really needed someone.

Five years

 Five years since we lost Sarah.  

    That's half a decade of being alone and missing my "better half".   Five sets of birthdays, five Christmases, five summers, five back to schools, and a constant hole in our hearts.  It's been a long time but losing a spouse is a wound that never really heals.   The isolation of being a single parent can be overwhelming at times and even five years later there are days that all I can do is get through till bed time.  

    The little boys don't remember her at all, yet they still have that hole in their lives.  Meanwhile the older kids and I can't forget her and miss her even more so.  A few years back I realized that many of the stories of Sarah would die with me, so I decided to put them down in a permanent record.  I wrote a biography of Sarah as best I could, had it printed and gave copies to family and friends as Christmas gifts.  Each child has a copy saved with a lock of her hair taped into the front cover.

    Having said that, it's been five years and we have done a lot of healing and growing.  We've had five wonderful summer of travel and adventures.  Five wonderful family gatherings at Thanksgiving.  Five healthy growing kids that drive me crazy and make me so proud at the same time.  We all have healed with our grief as much as we possibly can.  Clint is almost a grown man now.  Laura is developing into a wonderful young woman.  Patrick, James & Andrew are growing and becoming their own individual selves.

    They've grown and matured and gotten to experience so many amazing places and experiences.  In the past five years, we've traveled all over the country including 36 states, all three coasts.  We've lost and added pets.  We've bought and sold several vehicles which have carried us on those adventures.  Trailer and a Motorhome for our summer travels.  An airplane of my very own to fly after 25 years of "somedays".  We are a very different family than what moved to Ft Worth from Longview seven years ago.  

    I've gone through many changes and I'm both a very different person, yet the same man I was before we lost Sarah.  I've never lost my faith in God, yet have completely lost my faith in his followers.  The church is absolutely shirking its' responsibility to single parents.  After 40 years of trying to fit in with the church crowd I finally realized that God has that door closed for his reasons.  

    The kids have learned to swim, ride bikes, drive, cook, clean, sew, build, and will hopefully someday fly.  They have shown their strengths and weaknesses as they have matured.  I'm doing my best to guide and teach them, but raising 5 kids (two of whom are autistic) is a three man job that I have to do by myself with no support network to speak of.

    I've had to reenter the dating game and enjoy the highs and many many lows of that mess.  I've had to endure the rejection after rejection on top of grief.  Modern dating involves a lot more time on the internet and a lot more of the phenomena of "ghosting".   Despite all those hurdles,  I've even opened my heart to love again, but realized that just because you love someone, they may not be right for you.  Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is to break up with them.

It's been a long but amazing five years.

It's been 4 years since I really applied myself to writing here, but I feel the need to return and start putting my thoughts down on paper.  I doubt anyone really reads these things anymore, particularly my modest effort.  However, I'm going to try to keep adding to this in the future.

Over the Hill, in Heaven

Today is Sarah's 40th birthday.  

I wonder what it would be like to celebrate this milestone with her if she was still here.  We would have had a big party and lots of her friends and coworkers would have all been around to tease her about not being a kid anymore.

Last year this really snuck up on me and left me depressed for a day, but I was more ready for it this time around. The kids don't keep track of these dates closely enough to notice and I choose to let them go on about their lives as care free as possible.

I'm proud to say that the trees we planted in Sarah's memory are growing so there is a part of her that is still alive in addition to the memories that we hold in our hearts.

Year two

I've read in several books and articles that for those of us who have lost a loved one, the second year is actually the hardest.  Everyone else has moved on with their lives and expect you to have done the same.  However the gaping hole in your heart is still there, and the reality that it will never be filled starts to set in.

At this point I am several month past "year one" and into this difficult year where all the pain is still there but few understand how much I'm hurting inside.  The isolation and busyness of life as a single dad can be overwhelming at times and there isn't really anyone in my life that understands this.

I don't understand why God seems to want me isolated like this.  I never had many close friends growing up and it's nearly impossible to develop any kind of close relationship while being responsible for a small herd of children.  I gave the dating scene a try, but adding rejection on top of grief was just too much for me.

Some days I wish I was the Tin Man

Final resting place

One year after Sarah's death, we met to scatter her ashes and plant two trees in her memory.

Photo

Last year, Clint had the idea of of planting a tree in memory of Sarah.  I thought that we could scatter her ashes in the roots so that the tree would literally be growing from her remains.

Once we got back to Texas, we immediately started preparations for the gathering of all of the guests.
The house had to be cleaned, meals prepared, and I had to dig out one particularly stubborn stump.

I had been promising Laura that we could get a cat when we got back from our summer travels.  When we got back, we went to the local humane society and adopted "Frank Sinatra".

Who was renamed "Norbert"

Saturday when everyone began arriving, I saw many of Sarah's family that were able to come along with many of her friends.  We all enjoyed visiting and remembering Sarah.  Unfortunately, Sarah's younger brother couldn't get off of work to attend but we understood that his priorities were correct.

I had ordered two cherry trees to plant in her memory, but they didn't arrive until the literal last minute.  We scattered her ashes in the holes that were dug, and planted the trees on top.

Afterwards, we shared some cupcakes and ice cream and looked through scrapbooks of Sarah's time in college.  Once everyone headed home, the fatigue hit me hard and I spent the rest of the weekend just resting while watering the trees growing in Sarah's physical remains.