The Sound of Silence

Rise of the Phoenix - The Rebirth of a Failed Blog Post

A few years ago, I wrote a letter to Grove City College to express my disgust at their false piety.  It was a powerful and nasty letter.  Before I sent it, I let some of my Small Group read it, and I remember Jim Dyer's comments.  He said, "You know, sometimes you feel like punching people in the nose.  When you do, it really feels good for a minute or two.  But in the long run, you feel worse."  I took his advice, I amended the letter, and I sent a powerful, but not quite as nasty, version.  I jabbed them in the nose, I guess, instead of a punch.

Which brings me to my latest blog post.  It was probably my greatest writing ever.  I had been writing it in my head for weeks as I went on my morning runs, which is how I normally write, and it was good.  My post was about the election,a nd mainly about all of those people who elected our new President.  I punched a lot of people in the nose.  I punched those people who work in mental health, but still elected a person who makes fun of those with physical disabilities and calls people retards.  I punched those people who advocate for women's rights, but elected a person who has very little respect or regard for women.  But I saved my best blows for two seemingly disparate groups - white supremacists or racists and some evangelical Christians.  One hides under a sheet to spread hatred for African Americans while one hides behind the Bible to spread hatred for Muslims and homosexuals.

The funny thing was, I knew it was just wrong.  How did I know?  When I wrote it in my head, it flowed so beautifully.  When it came time to commit it to paper, or computer, I just couldn't do it.  Eventually, I did, and it was good, but it was so difficult and painful to write.  It was hateful, it was ugly.

I decided to get a few opinions before posting it.  I decided to poll the "Three Wise Men", Dave Carr, John Ey and Jim Dyer, three of my Small Group members.  I chose them because of the diversity of opinion I knew I would get, and the diversity of comments they would provide.  And they didn't disappoint.  In all cases, the opinion was universal, don't post this.  What was so wonderful was how they said it.

First I heard back from Dave Carr.  Dave is the most liberal of the group, so I thought I had my best chance of anyone of him saying "go for it".  Dave didn't actually say don't post it, but he gave me some things to think about on whether to post it or not.  He left it up to me, but his closing comments or argument was a four-way test:

1. Is it the truth
2. Is it fair to all concerned
3. Will it build goodwill and better friendships
4. Will it be beneficial to all concerned

Sadly, my blog post failed the four-way test, my only real passing grade was on number one, it was the truth.  I pretty much knew that if Dave, without rejecting it, rejected it, I didn't have much hope from John and Jim.

John was next, and in the inimitable John Ey fashion, he didn't say much about the post, but he attached an article by David Brooks for me to contemplate my post compared to a very reasoned view that Mr. Brooks had.  Of course, Mr. Brooks made some wonderful points without the hate and vitriol that I used.  Strike two.

Last was Jim Dyer, and he was effusive in his praise for my writing, but clearly stated, please do not post this.  Ever.  Strike three, batter out.

All I kept thinking was, but this is so good!  It's probably my best writing ever.  And there are so many people who really do need a good punch in the nose.  But sadly, I knew it was just wrong.  I knew I couldn't post something so mean, so nasty, so hateful.  Having said all of that, Dave did give me a glimmer, and I decided to latch on to that.  Dave said, maybe you can rework it and make it less hateful?  Maybe you can pull out the positives and focus on them?

While my main objective was punching people in the nose, there were a few areas where I at least made some good points without bashing the shit out of people.  So I will give you three things to think about as you continue to contemplate 2016 and the surreal election year we have had.

Personalize It - Many people like to characterize groups of people and put a label on them.  We had plenty of that during this election season.  Even though I am a life-long Republican, and have always voted Republican, I detest our President-elect, and couldn't vote for him.  While many would bash those who supported him as uneducated or racists, that is clearly not the case with many people.  There are a lot of very good people who supported him, and I would always try to envision those people when I would get angry about something that he would say or do.  In my case, I would think about my Mom, Mrs. Brennan, and Brent Shadix.  I love my Mom dearly, of course.  Mrs. Brennan is a neighbor, who is probably one of the nicest, sweetest women you could ever know.  And Brent Shadix is probably the best friend and mentor I've ever had in my 30+ years of working.  Whether you supported one candidate or the other, I'm sure there were people on the other side that you feel about the same way I feel about my Mom, Mrs. Brennan or Brent.  Try to visualize those you hold in the highest regard when you think about how someone could support a candidate that you dislike so much.  It makes it that much harder to throw a huge blanket over the group and label them in a negative way.

Withhold Judgement - I remember years ago, Patrick and Sean were each assigned a grade school teacher, and Patrick's teacher had a horrible reputation.  Countless parents told us we should switch teachers, get a new one for Patrick.  We decided to let the process work, and we kept Patrick with that teacher.  Much to our delight, she was a wonderful teacher, and Patrick loved her.

While I'm very skeptical of our President-elect, and I'm skeptical of some of his appointments, I'm willing to withhold judgement until we see what unfolds.  Over time, there have been many appointees, whether it was to Cabinet positions, the Supreme Court or any other high-ranking government positions that have raised questions or skepticism.  Some have turned out well, and some haven't.  I think we owe it to the system we have and those running the system to give them the benefit of the doubt for now and give them every opportunity to succeed.

Don't Sing Louder - I heard a sermon recently where our pastor told a story about Germany during World War II.  The story was told from the perspective of a Christian woman who described what it was like to be in Nazi Germany during the Holocaust.  She said that when they would be in church, and the trains would go by with the cars filled with Jews, being transported to their death, they would just sing louder to drown out all of the cries and screaming.

If we do see our President-elect and our government mistreating those less fortunate or those in the minority, I don't know about you, but I ain't singing louder.  We need to rise up and stand up for those who need our help and support.  We've given up our voice for so many years in this country, we've become lazy and complacent, we need to remember what made this country great.  

While this blog post isn't nearly as well-written, nearly as eloquent, it's also not nearly as mean and evil as its origin.  I have the Three Wise Men to thank for that.  It also gave me the inspiration to try something new on my blog - a slide show set to music.  Stay tuned.

When Life Gives You Perspective

Maybe it’s because December marks the holiday season, maybe it’s because Christmas is coming, but December gave me some perspective on life, even more than most years.  A few stories to share:

A Failed Anniversary Celebration - So in between trips, Houston one week, Mexico the next week,  Laurel and I had our 34^th wedding anniversary.  Since I was traveling so much this year, I had made grand plans.  I pretty much had a full agenda scheduled for Saturday and Sunday, Christmas shopping, an anniversary dinner, a lunch downtown.  It was the beginning of the Christmas events at church, we were picking up our tree at church, we were going to special services, it was going to be an incredible weekend.  But Laurel got sick, and our grand plans turned into picking up our tree and doing nothing with it and going to the early service at church to avoid as many people as possible, since Laurel wasn’t feeling well.   I cancelled our dinner reservations, and we just sat on the couch all weekend, watching Hallmark Christmas Movies and cuddling with the dogs under the blankets, as Laurel tried to do her best to start feeling better. 

As Monday rolled around, and I was heading out of town again, I was disappointed, I could even say depressed.  I had built up to the weekend so much, I had such great plans, such expectations, and we did absolutely nothing.  And then I thought about it, and it hit me.  We did absolutely nothing all weekend, but we did it together.  We spent an entire weekend together, watching silly, sappy movies, but we did it together.  No running around, no pressure to get things done, just enjoying each other’s company.  I realized how much I enjoyed that weekend together after getting past my disappointment of what might have been.

Seriously, Your Foot Hurts? – I’ve been teaching an accounting class at Georgia Gwinnett College for seven years, this will be my last year.  I’m really going to miss it, and the biggest reason why is that my students give me the best perspective on life sometimes, without even knowing it.

Recently I was getting ready to do a tutoring session on a Saturday, and the fire alarm was going off in the building, so we couldn’t go in.  I happened to be standing in the parking lot with one of my students, Myral Hicks, and we were just talking about nothing in particular.  I mentioned that I had gone for a run that morning, and my one foot has been bothering me lately.  Myral proceeded to say, “I really miss running, I used to do it a lot.  Then the one time, I was jumping out of a helicopter in the Army, and I broke both knees and hurt my back.  I can’t run anymore.”  Myral proceeded to tell me about the number of bones that he has broken in his body over the course of his Army career.  At one point, he made a comment about living a “hard life” when he was young.  I immediately thought of the hard life I led, drinking and carousing, but he proceeded to talk about sleeping on the ground in the desert and how the cold, hard ground had really affected his back. 

When I got home, I told Laurel the story, and I said, “I’m never going to complain about any ache or pain ever again.”

A Bad Break? - About a month ago, my Mom traveled from her home in North Carolina to Pittsburgh to see her sister, Aunt Mille.  On the first day there, she broke her hip.  She had surgery, and she just got released from the hospital a couple weeks ago.  She stayed at my Aunt Millie’s house until my brother Jim brought her home a couple weeks ago.  Obviously, breaking a hip is never good, especially when you are older.  Having said that, in some ways, this has been a blessing in disguise.  Her two living sisters and brother all live in that area.  She has had the chance to spend a great deal of time with them while she has been in the hospital.  She also got to celebrate her 88^th birthday with her twin brother, Uncle Bob, while she was there. 

The reality is that when you’re in your 80’s, time is short, and it’s not so easy to get together, you are dependent on other people and circumstances.  My Mom lives in North Carolina while they all live in Pennsylvania.  If it wouldn’t have been for the fall, she wouldn’t have had so much time with them all, and she wouldn’t have had the chance to celebrate her birthday with her twin brother.  I really don’t know the last time they were able to do that, and I’m sure it was really special for them.

Late Night Phone Calls - The one night, somewhere around midnight, we got a call from our son, Patrick, from up in Providence.  He was completely irrational, crying uncontrollably, talking gibberish, making no sense at all.  As each of us talked to him and tried to gain some understanding and tried to calm him down, Laurel finally asked the important question.  Are you still taking your medicine?  Apparently he had quit taking it a few days ago, and I guess, this was the outcome.  I’m not sure if you have been down the road of trying to talk rationally to a completely irrational person, but it’s not easy.  The common mantra was he’s a terrible person, he doesn’t deserve to live, and he just wants the pain to go away.

As I sat there, trying to wake up, get my senses, figure out how to rationalize with him, it hit me, as it has before, this is probably going to be our reality for as long as he lives.  He will go along, seeming to be fine, and then there will be something, that sets him over the edge, and we will be back in crisis mode again.  The key though is as long as he is alive.  I watched what it did to my parents when my brother committed suicide, and they were never the same again.  I will gladly take nights like that over the alternative.  We will continue to have to talk him off of the proverbial ledge probably over and over again.

We all have our own stories like this.  Life is full of tragedies and mini-tragedies interspersed between our day to day activities at work, dealing with our families, our children, all of the responsibilities we have.  It isn’t easy to see the bright side of the setbacks we face, but they are there usually, you just have to look for them.  Some, of course, are easier than others.  As we approach another holiday season, another Christmas, let’s try to remember, we’re all in this together.  It’s a journey, and we need to support each other on that journey.

Easy Answers

 Everyone should stand for the national anthem – I’ve always believed this.  I take great pride in our country, particularly for the many men and women who have risked their lives, and given their lives for this country.  I also have a great deal of respect for our forefathers; we have a great history of men and women who have risked everything to build a great nation for us.

Sadly, we haven’t really done our part to continue that legacy forward or to provide a nation that we, or our children, can or will be proud to be a part of.  We have built large divides within our country, whether it is religious, race related, or cultural, we have built large walls between ourselves.  We used to care for those less fortunate, we used to have empathy for others, but now, we are more concerned for ourselves, for our bank accounts, for our retirement plans, for our ability to accumulate possessions.  All of this comes at the expense of those less fortunate.

Do you ever wonder why there are so many people who don’t stand for the national anthem?  We love to bash Colin Kaepernick and the many professional athletes who kneel or do whatever they feel necessary to protest the national anthem and what it stands for, but have we noticed the countless high school athletes doing the same?  This issue or activity isn’t going away, and most likely, it will grow.  These athletes, these children, aren’t proud of this nation, they aren’t proud of the national anthem and what it stands for.  They are embarrassed by this country and what it has done to those within this country that aren’t the same, those of a different race, religion, sexual preference, whatever makes them different. 

We can continue to bash and hate them for not standing for the national anthem, for not being proud of this country, for not honoring those who have served this country.  We can continue to alienate and ostracize those within our country who are different from us.  Or, we could seek to understand the root cause of their protests.  We could seek to understand where they believe we have failed them.  

Abortion is wrong in all cases – For most of my life, I have been “Pro Life”.  I really can’t say that I have changed in my belief, how can you really say you aren’t “Pro Life”?  Over time though, I’ve come to the conclusion that the answers don’t come so simply.  Some come down very hardline on this topic.  No matter what, abortion is wrong.  The baby must be allowed to be born, they are not at fault. 

While statistics surely show that many abortions are due to circumstances that many of us would disagree with, there are still many abortions that occur due to very difficult and painful circumstances.  Some are due to rape, incest, danger to the mother, danger to the baby, and for various other reasons that hopefully rational people would find acceptable.  Still, many don’t find them acceptable. 

In many cases, most of us wouldn’t necessarily agree with the reasoning for the abortion.  I’m not quite sure that is our call to make, I’m not sure if we have the right to determine if the woman who has to make that difficult choice has the right to make that choice. 

I guess my question for many of those who hold firmly to all abortions are wrong would be, what if your daughter were in this circumstance, what if your daughter were raped, had been abused by a family member, and were pregnant, would you hold so firmly to this edict that all abortions are wrong?  Would you have your daughter carry that baby to full term even knowing the situation and the circumstance?  If your daughter were in danger and could possibly die if she carried that baby to full term, would you still hold firmly to your belief that all abortions are wrong?

Everyone on food stamps should be drug tested – This one seems fairly simple.  If you are getting some form of government assistance, you should have to submit to drug testing to get that assistance.  I have no problem with that.  On the surface, this seems fairly straight-forward.   But just maybe, it’s not quite that simple.

Let’s try to imagine a “real life” example.  Let’s just say, the mother of three of these children who weren’t and shouldn’t have been aborted fails a drug test and can’t get food stamps.  What happens to those three children?  How do they eat?  What happens to them?  Maybe they get taken away.  Maybe they end up in foster care.  Any way you look at this situation, it really doesn’t have a happy ending for the mother or the three children.  Most likely, the mother is going to figure out how to keep her children, that is the reality of these situations, and most likely, these three children are going to have a very difficult life trying to stay alive and stay nourished. 

So is it an easy answer?  If we hold firm to the premise that everyone on food stamps should be drug tested, and that person fails the drug test, what do we do?  Take away their food stamps?  Take away their ability to feed those three children?  Force the children into foster care?  Separate them from their mother?  Maybe those are the right answers, but I’m not so sure those are easy answers.

What I find so interesting in all of this is that many of the people who are adamant on abortion being wrong in all cases, who believe that anyone on food stamps should be drug tested, also believe that those who engage in protests of police shootings should be shot.  I’m fascinated by the transformation of “Pro Life” while in the womb, to “Pro Every Man, Woman and Child for himself or herself” in everyday life, to “Pro Lynch Mob or Pro Death” if that baby comes out of the womb and eventually doesn’t agree with how he or she is being treated.   I’m not quite sure how some people reconcile this transformation, but I’m sure they have an answer for it.

God is good – Of course, this one is easy.  Or is it?  As I sit here in my comfortable bed, in my comfortable home, with a very full stomach, God is good!  I have a lovely wife, great kids, adorable dogs to play with, God is good! 

It’s interesting to me, and I’ve harped on this before, people love to throw this saying around for virtually everything that happens in their lives.  “Last night my air conditioning broke, but it was a cool night outside, so it wasn’t a problem.  God is good!”  “I did lousy in my class and should have gotten a D, but somehow the professor gave me a B.  God is good!”

I’ve shared many times traveling to Houston and seeing those men and women under the overpass, begging for food.  Each time I’m going to the airport, I stop at this one gas station, there’s this little old man, slumped over in his wheelchair, with no shoes.  I give him a little bag of food and water, and he says, “God bless you.”  God bless me?  God bless me?  Can you imagine his daily existence and “God is good” moments?  “Well, I was able to get underneath the overpass before the thunderstorms came, God is good!”  “That guy gave me a bag of food and water, so I have something to eat today, God is good!” 

It’s easy for us to say God is good, sitting in our comfortable homes, living a life of luxury, with very full stomachs.  I’d imagine it’s not so easy to say God is good when you are trying to survive underneath the overpass.  Still God is good, I still believe, God is good.  My hope for that old man is that as Jesus said, “those who are last shall be first.” 

Easy answers.  For some of us, the answers are still very easy.  For others, the answers are very complex.  

Instructions for When I Die!

Editor’s Note:  Just to be clear, I have no desire, plan or premonition that I am going to die anytime soon. As you can see below, our Small Group discussed the need to begin planning for that inevitable day, “graduation day”.  I’m very hopeful that I’m going to have to re-write this in 20+ years or so!

Instructions for When I Die

To the Glory of God, to the Grace of Jesus Christ, to the Love of the Holy Spirit

Our small group recently lost one of its own.  Scott Porter died this year, the first of us to go.  This was a devastating moment for all of us, Scott was an incredible man.  I used to compare him to the EF Hutton commercials, for those of you that old.  When Scott Porter spoke, people listened.  He was a kind, gentle soul, who spoke softly, rarely, but with much conviction.  He is missed and will be missed.

We had a small group retreat this summer to celebrate Scott’s life and have a memorial service for him.  As a part of that we discussed our own mortality and the fact that we weren’t getting any younger.  We discussed a sermon many years ago that one of our members, the Reverend Dr. George H. “Sandy” McConnel, gave at our church, Westminster Presbyterian Church, titled “Instructions for When I Die!”  We all decided that we would write our own set of instructions.  Now, you have to understand, I’ve always been different, I’ve often described myself as a “salmon swimming upstream”.  My instructions may flow against the current, but this is what I’d really like when I die.  I know some of it may be difficult or tough to pull off, and that’s OK, these are just requests.  All I ask is that everyone does their best.

The easy part, the basics first.  I really don’t want a visitation at a funeral home.  I don’t like those very much, they are largely uncomfortable for people, and I do enjoy so much more the church memorial service.  I also want to ensure any and all of my body parts are donated to those who need them.  I also want to be cremated with the ashes scattered in the ocean, preferably at a beautiful beach that I always loved to visit and run at in North Myrtle Beach.

The Service

I wish I could say I have this all scripted out, which would make it easier on everyone, but I can only say that I have a jumble of what I want to happen at the service.  As a broad overview, there are three main points that I want to come across clearly, which are:

·         First and foremost, the service should be a celebration of God and what God has done in my life and all of our lives.  I have been truly blessed, no idea why, but I want this to be a celebration of what God has meant to me.  While I know many of you will be sad, and you may shed tears, no tears should be shed for me, if you want to shed tears, do it for my lovely wife Laurel, my children Megan, Kelly, Patrick and Sean, my Mom, my brother Jim and the rest of my family.  I’ve been blessed with an incredible life, and no one should be sad for me. 

·         I want this to be a service of inclusion.  I want everyone, no matter their race, creed, color, sexual preference, or anything, to feel comfortable and loved at the service.  I have done my best in my life to accept everyone as they are, for what they are, and I want everyone to feel comfortable being at the service no matter what.  I just ask those who are not Christians to accept that this will be a Christian service, and to attend in respect to me and what I meant in their lives.

·         This is a service about you.  If you are at this service, somehow you have touched my life.  Whether it’s family, friends, colleagues, students, I have had so many incredible people in my life, who have influenced me greatly.  I want you all to get a chance to meet each other.  You are someone special, and you need to share that with each other.

The Scripture

·         Psalm 23 – “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want …” This one is spoken at most funerals, and for good reason.  I’ve always found it to be one of the most beautiful of the many Psalms in the Bible.

·         Matthew 5:3-10 – The Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount.  I guess because I’ve always suffered seeing those less fortunate and their position in life, I’ve found great comfort in the concept of “those who are last will be first”. 

·         Micah 6:8 – Ever since our Youth Choir at Westminster would sing this, I’ve fallen in love with this verse more than any other.  “What does the Lord require of you?”

The Speakers

As important as who I hope will speak, I would like to say who I would prefer not to speak, and I hope no one takes this wrong.   They would be:

·         Sandy McConnel – While I would love the Pastor who has been my Pastor for the greatest part of my life, plus a small group member, to give my eulogy, I really don’t believe it’s fair to ask him to do this.  His role as a small group member means, at least to me, it is only fair to allow him to mourn rather than prepare a eulogy.

·         Any of my family – While I would love my brother Jim or any of my children to speak, again, I believe it’s only fair to allow them to mourn rather than to prepare something to say.  That adds too much stress, and I think takes away from the moment for them.

Those who I would like to speak at the service are as follows:

·         Reverend Chris Henry – Chris is the Pastor at Shallowford Presbyterian Church, where we are members.  I still haven’t figured out how someone this young is this good, but if he isn’t great yet, he will be.  He can deliver a powerful, beautiful, emotional sermon, and I’m sure he will do the same for my eulogy.  As Chris knows, I love baseball, especially great pitching.  I have no doubt that Chris can deliver a eulogy that would make Bob Gibson or Nolan Ryan proud.

·         A Small Group Member – I leave it to each of you to decide who.  There are so many eloquent speakers in the group, really, you can’t go wrong.  My charge to you would be to talk about what small group means to each of us, and how important it is in our lives.  I used to always like to use the baseball slogan for small groups, “Small Group Fever!  Catch It!”  Maybe you can spread that Small Group Fever to everyone at the service.  And please, tell some funny stories.

The Music

Music has been a huge part of my life, particularly inspirational Christian music.  I listen to it each day when I go for a run, it centers me for the day, and helps me to remember who my day and life is devoted to.  I had a really hard time narrowing this down, but I came up with a few songs I’d love to have sung at the service, with a few special requests to go along with those songs.  The songs are:

·         “Amazing Grace” – This was the song and the sermon that brought me back to the church back when I was in college.  This song has always had a special place in my heart.  The Grace of Jesus Christ transcends anything throughout our lives, and is the greatest gift of all.  I would like this to be the opening song for the service.  I thought about requesting bagpipes since I love bagpipes so much, but I figured that was too much to ask.

·         “Be Thou My Vision” – This has always been, and will always be, one of my favorite hymns.  I love the Van Morrison version, it reminds me of my Irish heritage.  It reminds me of my Grandfather Pappy, who came over from Belfast when he was young.  Pappy taught my Dad, who taught me, the greatest gift a father can give his children is to love their mother.

·         “Desert Song” – This song by Hillsong United got me through a very difficult time when our world was falling apart.  I listened to this song practically every day back in 2013 when I didn’t know how to make it through another day.

·         “House at Pooh Corner” – I know, not a religious song, but I’m asking you all to bear with me.  My blog site is Stuffed with Fluff – Oh Bother due to my love of Winnie the Pooh.  I just think this song and this character take us back to a simpler time, and I’d like everyone to have something fun to hear during the service.  I would love if either Zac Harrison or Sam Dawkins would perform this, they are both incredible musicians, but if not, someone like them. 

·         “Sinking Deep” – Here is my big request.  I would like a band, hopefully led by Zac or Sam, to perform this at the end of the service.  I’m not talking anything crazy here, just guitar, piano, bass and drums, and I’d like it to be similar to the live version performed by North Point, which you can find on YouTube.  When you sing this, I want all of the doors and windows opened up, and in the immortal words of the Dropkick Murphy’s, I want you to “sing loud, sing proud” to the glory of God.  I want them to be able to hear everyone singing on I-85, and I want the mirrors to be vibrating (Tabitha Sharp will understand).

Some Very Important Details

·         Flowers – No.  Flowers are beautiful, and I love them, but I prefer them to be living and in the ground.

·         Donations – If you would like to give something in lieu of flowers, please give money to your church, my church or any church that you choose.  I believe in the universal church of God, so I encourage donations wherever you may see fit.  Also, there are certain non-profits and organizations that I love in case you would want to donate to one of those.  They are the Amanda Riley Foundation, Georgia Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, United Theological Seminary and Georgia Gwinnett College.

·         Pass the sign of peace (actually a little more) – Years ago Reverend Joan Salmon Campbell was a guest preacher at Westminster.  At one point in the service, she asked each of us to look into the eyes of the person next to us, and say “You are a child of God, and I love you”.  I still remember this moment, I remember Elma Talbot and I following these instructions.  I barely knew Elma at the time, and I still can’t believe I told her I loved her.  But think about this, it was probably 30 years ago, and I still remember it.  I would ask that this be a part of my memorial service.  You will never forget this moment.

·         My pets – I know I’m really pushing the line on this one, but I want my dogs there.  They have made my life very special, especially the ones we’ve been able to rescue, and I would like them to be there.  Besides, it’s tough for people to be sad when dogs are around.

·         Charge to those attending – I know how tough it is for a spouse to lose his/her partner, and I know how difficult it is for a child to lose his/her parent.  My charge to everyone is to stay in contact with Laurel and my children, not just for the first few days, weeks or months, but past that time period.  To take it one step further, don’t stop there.   Call or visit an elderly loved one.  As my Mom and her siblings get older, I wish we called more, talked more, visited more.  Don’t wait.

·         The Benediction – The final point to the service, after singing “Sinking Deep”.  I would like Sandy McConnel to deliver his benediction as I’ve heard it so many times before, leaving it etched in my heart and soul:

“Now go forth into the world in peace

Be of good courage

Render to no one evil for evil

Support the weak

Comfort the afflicted

Honor all persons

Love and serve the Lord

Rejoicing in the power of God’s Holy Spirit

And may the blessings of God

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Be with you, this day and forever.”

In closing, if some of this is unreasonable, it’s OK, you know the general idea of what I would like my memorial service to be like.  I leave it to those more knowledgeable to come up with the order of the service.

I hope that I’m remembered as a devoted, but very flawed, follower of Jesus Christ, a man who completely adored his wife Laurel, who cherished his children Megan, Kelly, Patrick and Sean, who loved his parents, his family and friends, and tried his best to treat everyone with the respect and dignity that they deserve.  That is my hope, but I can’t do much about that now.  Years ago when Justice Thurgood Marshall retired from the Supreme Court, he was asked of what accomplishment he was most proud.  He answered simply, “That I did the best I could with what I had.”  I wouldn’t mind being remembered like that either.

I Feel Like I'm Dying Alive

Jaromir Jagr still remains as one of the most iconic hockey players of all time.  He’s in his 40’s now, very old by sports terms, very young by my terms, but he still produces, still scores goals, still amazes so many of us every day with his unbelievable hockey skills.

I still remember him for the statement that helped me truly understand depression better than anything I’ve ever heard in my life.  In the early 2000’s, Jagr was struggling with his game, with his coach, with the fact that the Penguins just weren’t who they had been.  Early in his career, he had the blessing of winning two Stanley Cups with his mentor, Mario Lemieux.  He had been on top of the world, and in so many ways, he still should have been and was on top of the world.  He was one of the greatest hockey players in the world.  He had those looks, that boyish charm, that mullet!  He was dating a super model. 

Then he uttered that phrase that lit up the sports columns and the talk shows throughout Pittsburgh – “I feel like I’m dying alive”.  On one hand, you have to understand Pittsburgh.  It’s very much a hard-working, blue collar town.  When a “privileged” athlete, who seems to have everything says something like “I feel like I’m dying alive”, the consensus is along the lines of “suck it up buttercup”.  While Jagr’s comments wouldn’t play well in many cities, Pittsburgh was probably one of the least likely cities for this to work out.  It wasn’t too much longer that the Penguins mercifully sent Jagr on his way to the Washington Capitals. 

Years have gone by, and amazingly this statement has stuck with me.  Over the years, I’ve seen my fair share of depression and ultimately suicide.  My first experience was from stories.  My Great Uncle Lee had been in World War II, he was in the Battle of the Bulge, an epic battle that resulted in a movie.  Once he got back to the States, he couldn’t handle real life, and he took his life.  My early years were filled with grand stories of my Great Uncle Lee, it was natural, he was a war hero, and he died tragically. 

Years later, I experienced my first taste of depression and suicide.  My Great Aunt Anna Mae finally succumbed to what was tearing her apart, and she gave in.  I had spent a great deal of my early years staying at my Great Grandmother’s house on weekends, and my Great Aunt Anna Mae took care of me.  She also bought me so many tickets to Pirate games, Penguin games, she never was married and never had children, so she treated me like her own.  I remember when my Dad came home and told me what happened, that she had taken her own life, I screamed and cried and pounded the wall in my bedroom to the point of breaking the plaster.  I just couldn’t understand how someone could take their own life.

Unfortunately this wasn’t my last experience, and wasn’t my worst experience.  Many years later, my brother Billy also took his own life.  If you talk to people who have been through suicide, there are so many stories.  In many cases, no one saw it coming.  In some cases, like in the case of Billy, we saw the train coming down the track, but we had absolutely no clue how to stop that train.  Let me take this one moment to caution anyone and everyone, don’t ever criticize someone who has been through this.  It may be easy to say what could have been done, or what should have been done, but unless you’ve been in the midst of it, you have no clue what to do.  We could see that Billy was probably headed toward an untimely end, but we really didn’t know what to do about it. 

It didn’t end there.  If you have read my blog posts, you know about the difficulties we faced with our son Patrick.  A few years ago, we went through this same situation with Patrick, but thankfully, he never fulfilled his plan or desire to commit suicide.  Every day was a challenge, every day presented a new worry when Patrick didn’t respond to text messages, when he didn’t answer his phone.  Where is he?  Is he OK?  After he was in a psychiatric hospital in Pennsylvania, six states away, we decided we wanted him closer, we had him finish his undergraduate work in Georgia, close to us.  Once it came time for him to go to graduate school, we finally relented, and allowed him to go away, this time to Rhode Island, many miles away.  Were we scared?  Of course we were!  Are we still scared?  Of course we are!  At some point, you have to let your children, or anyone, live their lives.

So I go back to Jaromir Jagr’s comment, and again, that is when it finally made sense to me, or really made it all not make sense.  I know the mindset in Pittsburgh at the time, and I shared it, was how in the world can a guy who is making millions of dollars, who is one of the greatest hockey players in the world and is dating a super model, make a comment like “I feel like I’m dying alive”.  Exactly.  It doesn’t make any sense.  And that is depression. 

I remember so many times talking to Patrick, and trying to reason with him.  You’re young, you’re good looking, you’re talented, you can sing so beautifully, you can play guitar, piano, French Horn, you are smart, you write beautiful poetry.  Your parents love you, your brothers and sisters love you, how can you be depressed?  Exactly.  It doesn’t make any sense.  And that is depression.

Depression is a disease just like any other disease, just like cancer, just like heart disease.  It takes a different form, but it’s real and unfortunately it is very real for many of us.  One of the things I’d often say to Patrick to try to dissuade him from committing suicide was think about what your death would do to your Mom, to me, to your brothers and sisters, to your Grandmother.  From all of the situations I’ve seen or experienced, these types of arguments really fall deaf on someone experiencing depression.  The pain the person is experiencing is much stronger than the empathy they feel for the loved ones they will be leaving.  The argument just doesn’t work.

And that is depression.  We have to get past the stigma of thinking that depression is just feeling sad or blue.  It is a real disease that inflicts and impacts many of us.  It has nothing to do with how beautiful we are, how talented we are, how rich we are.  It makes no sense.   We also have to get past the stigma of hiding depression, whether it is in ourselves or in our loved ones.  While I would never minimize any other disease, think about it for a second.  If you’ve lost a loved one to cancer or a heart attack, you would tell people with very little hesitation how that loved one died.  If you lost someone to suicide, or really, to be more precise, depression, would you just as easily tell people you lost a loved one to depression? 

The good news is that we can do something about it, and in a great deal of cases, it is more treatable than other diseases.  It takes compassion, it takes caring, and it takes a great deal of listening and watching for the signs of depression and potentially suicide.  There are the “easy” ones like excessive drinking, drug use, cutting, or making crazy life-threatening choices with your life.  There are then the subtle ones, I learned over time that when Patrick would tell me he was tired, what it really meant was he was depressed.  It meant watching him a little more closely.  I’m sure there are many more signs, but these are at least some that I’ve come to know.

Everyone we lose to depression is one loss too many.  We may not be able to “cure” them of depression, but we can possibly save them from destroying themselves and all of the loved ones around them.  Dying alive is not living.  Let’s help them see that they have something to live for.

The Most Important Job of All

 Happy Father’s Day to all of the fathers out there!  Whether you are a new father, old father, or somewhere in the middle, you are working at the most important job that you will ever do in your life.  While we often devote a great deal of our time and effort to our “work job”, the job of a father should be the number one job in our lives.

Now, I wish I could say that always was the case for me, but unfortunately it wasn’t.  For several years, I basically abdicated my responsibilities as a father, and left Laurel to be a single Mom.  Thankfully, it became clear to me along the way that my priorities were completely wrong.  I had put work ahead of my most important job, being a father, and I realized the error of my ways.  I became a father again.

As those sayings go, you can’t get that time back again.  I had given up many years of being a father, and those years are gone.  One year, I remember missing every birthday since I was on the road.  I can’t change the past, I can’t get all of those special events and moment back,  I can only impact the present and the future.  While I missed a great deal of those grade school and high school adventures, I can and will be there for those early adult moments where a father is needed.  As I’ve often said, I really found out how smart my Dad was when I had to buy a car, buy a home, or deal with any of those problems young adults have to deal with.  I’ve found in several cases, these problems can be very painful, and in several cases, I don’t have an immediate answer or any answer.  I’ve had to use the “I’ll have to sleep on this one, and give you an answer in the morning” approach in a few cases.

So, as noted, let’s focus on the present and the future instead of dwelling on the past.  Through some great work on Laurel’s part, and I hope some on my part, I am blessed with four great children, and two fantastic son-in-law’s.  To celebrate Father’s Day, I’d like to celebrate what wonderful children I’ve been blessed with:

Before I start, let me say what so many of us say.  Why are there no classes for this, why are there no instruction manuals that come with children?  We struggled mightily trying to raise children, and we even went to a counselor to help us.  The best advice she gave us was “keep them alive until they’re 25!”.  She was so right, it was so difficult figuring out the answers, particularly with Megan and Kelly since they were our first two, and they were girls (I always tell people that if you’ve never raised girls, you really aren’t a true parent).  Anyway, here is my brief celebration of my children.

Megan – Little Miss Magic.  She was our first, and your first child is always so special.  We became very patriotic because of Megan.  Those were the days when the networks shut off at 2 am or so, and they played the national anthem.  Megan was always awake until sometime in the middle of the night.  I remember riding in the car with Megan, playing music, and Megan got to know the words to Pete Townsend singing “I got to stop drinking, I got to stop thinking, I got to stop smoking”.  Megan also taught me to not worry so much about life, when she said to me the one day as we sat on the front porch, “The world really is a beautiful place, isn’t it Daddy?”

Megan gave us our first wedding when she married Thomas McDonald five years ago.  Just like your first child, your first wedding is something incredible.  That was probably one of the most nervous moments in my life.  It was also probably one of the greatest moments of my entire life.  As I try to tell people, make the night go as slowly as possible, because it is so special, but it will go so fast.  Slow it down.

When Megan was a teenager, we always thought we would have to worry about Megan all of our lives.  While I don’t want to say this badly, but we really don’t worry about Megan at all anymore.  

She has grown into an unbelievable young lady, she is so bright and industrious, she takes care of herself and her home very well, and she has a great husband in Thomas.  We are so proud of the young lady that Megan has become.

Kelly – Our Little Angel from Heaven.  After Megan, and her love of late night TV, Kelly was such a blessing.  In the evening, we’d ask Kelly if she was ready for bed, she would run back to her crib, hold her arms up, and let us lift her in, and she would go to sleep.  She was an ideal baby. 

She grew into a lovable little girl.  She had a way of winning over her teachers with her huge smile and happy disposition.  She also had an unintentional sense of humor, wanting to be a “Toys-R-Us Kid” when she grew up, and mastering Billy Ray Cyrus’ “Achy Breaky Heart”.  We heard it a lot.  Very loudly.  As she grew into a teenager, she loved sports, particularly college basketball, and Duke basketball specifically. 

Kelly got married last September to Clayton Crowe.  Since I had the experience of Megan’s wedding, I had a better idea of what to expect this time.  I was much more prepared, I wasn’t as nervous, and I even knew what my responsibilities were, such as giving a Father of the Bride speech.  Since this was going to be the last time I’d give away a daughter, I relished the day and the moment. 

Kelly can still win people over with that smile and disposition.  She has a very loving personality and demeanor that takes her a long way. 

Patrick – Baby A (or B?).  Patrick was supposed to be born second, Sean was first in the birth canal.  But Patrick wedged his foot in front of Sean’s head, so they had to take Patrick first, so he ended up being Baby A by a minute.  He also ended up with a club foot because of it.  He went through many months of casting and eventually an operation to repair his foot.  His one foot will always be smaller than the other, and his one leg will always be slightly smaller, but otherwise, Patrick had a great recovery.  I still believe Patrick’s club foot made him more determined and driven to succeed, particularly in sports. 

When Patrick was little, he had quite a temper.  Patrick, by far, ate more liquid soap than any of our children.  He had quite a “potty mouth”.  Patrick also had his moments where his temper got the best of him.  One of the often-repeated stories is when Patrick threw Sean’s white Power Ranger down the sewer.  I think it comes up most holidays.

As Patrick grew up, he discovered that he had a talent for acting and singing.  He played Don Quixote in “Man of La Mancha” and plays the French Horn, piano and guitar as well as singing.  His voice is incredible, especially when he sings Johnny Cash songs.  I love to hear him sing “Folsom Prison Blues” and “Ring of Fire”.

Patrick’s other talent is his writing ability and his poetry.  Patrick has two self-published books of poetry, and he also has had poems appear in various college publications.  Patrick is now starting his Master’s program at Rhode Island College.  I have no idea where this will lead him or where Patrick will end up, but I’m sure somehow Patrick will be entertaining people with beautiful poetry or music.

Sean – The baby of the family (by a minute).  Sean didn’t have to go through the surgery like Patrick did, but he did have his share of mishaps that landed him in the doctor’s office or emergency room.  The most interesting was when he rolled off the couch and ended up with a separated shoulder.  He had to wear a sling and couldn’t use his arm, which was right in the midst of when he was learning to crawl.  It didn’t seem to slow him down at all, and he would just crawl along with one arm, saying “Arm OK, arm OK”. 

Early on, Sean was the peacemaker in the family.  When the other kids (most often, Megan and Patrick) were fighting Sean would say something like, “Can’t we all just get along?”  Most of the time, no.  Sean also would do anything for Megan and also demanded that we do the same.  One of the more famous situations or sayings that again comes up at all holiday events is when Sean came into the family room and demanded, “Megan needs scissors!”

As Sean grew, he also developed a great deal of talent and interest in music.  He plays guitar and piano, and he also sings.  For a while, Sean had a band, Sageglen, that recorded some music and played at some venues.  Sean also got involved in leading the music at church worship services, at church and at college.

Sean is headed into his second year at Florida State University getting a Master’s Degree in Composition and Rhetoric.  Sean eventually wants to teach in college, at least at the moment.  Sean is very driven, in many cases, too much like me.  I often try to encourage him to slow down and enjoy life a little more instead of driving himself so hard.  Hopefully he will learn this lesson better than me.

As noted, I probably didn’t have nearly as much to do with this as Laurel, she did a fantastic job raising our children.  As time has gone on, and after learning what my most important job is, I’ve picked up the slack.  Some last pieces of advice to some of the fathers out there, particularly the newer ones:

• Don’t do as I did.  As noted, I can’t get any of these memories back.  The birthdays I missed, the school events, the time spent with our children, it’s all gone.  I know most of us have to learn from their own experience, but trust me, you don’t want to learn this way.
•  My Dad always said, “would you trade any of your children for $1m?”  Of course not.  He’d say, “you have $4m then”.  I know it’s very simplistic, but our children are our most valuable asset.  Also remember, each one has equal value.  I know we always joke about who is Laurel’s favorite, but there is no favorite when it comes to your children.  They are all your favorites.    
• Learn to bite your tongue.  There are times, your children will make mistakes.  They know it as well as you do, and oftentimes, they are going to be harder on themselves than you are.  Don’t point out their mistakes, it’s devastating to them.  I’ve unfortunately learned this one the hard way also.
• Be always present.  If you’re there, be there.  Don’t be mentally still at the office, or on your computer or on your I-Phone, I-Pad, etc.  When you are with your children, give them all of your attention.  
• It’s a lifetime commitment.  It’s starts when they come out screaming, it continues with the sleepless nights, you will be wiping up scraped knees and bloody lips when they learn to walk, you will deal with the trials and tribulations of grade school and high school, but you will still have to be there for broken hearts, car buying, house buying, and someday grandchildren.  Your job will never end.  But it’s so worth it.

Unconditional Love

I think this conversation took place a little over a week ago .... 

 “Grrrrr, it’s my toy!”

“Rrrrrr, it’s my toy!”

“Girls, would you please stop!  Why do you always fight over the blue dog toy?  It’s a squeaky toy!  We have at least 20 squeaky toys, there’s a red dog, a yellow dog, a yellow duck, a blue snake, why can’t one of you just play with one of those toys?”

“Because I want the blue dog,” Little Bit said.

“I want the blue dog,” Daisy said.

Snickers let out a big sigh, “Girls.  Puppies.  What am I going to do?  Girls, we need to talk, stop with the toy and get over here.”

Snickers gently shifted in his dog bed as Little Bit and Daisy dropped the toy they were fighting over and bounced over to see what Snickers wanted to talk about.  While Snickers was old and didn’t ask for much, the girls still respected him for his length of service to the McCullough family.

“Girls, it’s almost time, I’m going to be leaving soon.  You two will have to take over all of the pet responsibilities for the family.”

“Bu-bu-but Snickers, where are you going?” Little Bit nervously asked.

“Little Bit, you remember when Minnie left a few years ago.  It’s my time now, I need to move on.”

“Who’s Minnie?  And where do dogs go?” Daisy asked innocently.

“Minnie was the Man owner’s Princess before I came along,” Little Bit said smugly.

Snickers replied, “All dogs go to Heaven of course.  There was a great movie about this many years ago, you guys are too young to know about it, but it’s true, all dogs go to Heaven.  We provide great service here on Earth, we serve our families, we have very short lives, our reward is getting to go to Heaven and wait for our families to come join us.  Now, I have some instructions for you, you girls have to take over the duties now.”

Little Bit said, “What do you mean Snickers?  What duties?  We do a good job of taking care of the family, don’t we?”

Snickers said, “You do, but you have to take over my duties too.  Little Bit, you have done a great job taking care of Patrick, and you have done a good job taking over as the Princess for the Man  owner.  Daisy’s still a puppy, she needs to grow up and take on some more responsibility. “  Snickers glanced over at Daisy, and sighed, “The first thing is she needs is to get over her puppy ADD and pay attention.  Daisy!”

“What?  Did you say something Snickers?  There are squirrels out there, I need to chase them!”

“Daisy!  Pay attention!  I have some things to say,” Snickers said grumpily.

“Yeah, Daisy, pay attention,” Little Bit chimed in.

“OK, first thing, you guys have to look after the Lady owner, she’s the most important one in the family, and she’s really going to miss me.  You two have to take care of her.” 

“Second, you two have to make sure you entertain Kelly and Clayton’s dogs anytime they come over.”

Daisy shrieked, “Nooooo!  I won’t do it!  Those two are spoiled brats.  And they never stop!  Do either of them ever sleep?  They’re constantly going, and going, and going.  Even I get worn out.”

Little Bit chimed in, “Snickers, do we really have to be nice to them?  They are pretty high maintenance, and Kelly really spoils them.”

Snickers started laughing, “Listen to you two!  Little Bit, I don’t think I’ve ever met a dog more spoiled than you.  Princess, huh.  And Daisy, seriously, Franklin and Rosie are no worse than you.  Ladies, they are still puppies, puppies have lots of energy.  Just like YOU, Daisy.  I’ve put up with it for the last year, and I’m old, the least the two of you can do is put up with them and be nice.”

Snickers continued, “Ladies, what’s a dog’s motto, what’s our commitment?”

Little Bit and Daisy both sighed, “Unconditional love.”

Snickers went on, “That’s right.”

“But Snickers, Franklin and Rosie are dogs, we don’t owe them unconditional love,” whined Little Bit.

“Little Bit!  How nice has Kelly been to you?  She’s treated you like a Princess as much as our Man Owner has.  Clayton has treated you really well too, and think about how much Minnie loved Kelly and Clayton.  How do you think Minnie would feel if she knew you were treating Kelly and Clayton’s puppies badly? Remember Little Bit, unconditional love means you treat Kelly and Clayton’s puppies with the same love Kelly and Clayton give you” Snickers said.

“You’re right Snickers, I’m sorry,” Little Bit sighed.

“Daisy?  What about you?” Snickers asked.

“What?  Did you say something Snickers?” Daisy asked, as she still scoured the yard for squirrels.

“I give up,” Snickers murmured.

“Snickers, will that Barkley ever be coming back here?  This doesn’t apply to him does it?” Little Bit asked.

“Little Bit, seriously, he was barely born when he was here.  He was really a puppy.  I’m sure he’s much better now.  Besides, I’m the one who had to put up with all of his hyperactivity.  You just ran and hid.”

“He was scary Snickers!  He even bit the Man owner!” Little Bit shrieked.

“Again, Little Bit.  Puppy.  Very young puppy.  I’m sure he’s grown up by now.”

“Is there anything else we need to do Snickers?” Little Bit asked.

“Well, if little kids come over, you need to let them poke and prod you and not get mad or run and hide.  And if anyone wants to dress you up with sweaters or costumes, you need to let them,” Snickers said.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Little Bit screamed.  “Kelly used to make me wear those stupid sweaters and costumes.  I couldn’t move!  I’ll let little kids pull my tail and pull my ears, but I will not wear any of those stupid outfits anymore!”

Snickers started laughing, “OK, maybe I’ve gone too far.”

Daisy finally broke from watching the squirrels run through the yard, and came bouncing in the room.  “Wait, wait!  Maybe Kelly can put me in a little dress, and I can do the Daisy dance and get on television!”

“Always has to be the center of attention,” Little Bit murmured while rolling her eyes.

“Hey Snickers, I know our commitment is unconditional love, but doesn’t it bother you sometimes how our Man owner treats you?” Daisy asked.

“What do you mean Daisy?” Snickers asked.

“Well, he calls you Dumb Ass, and he calls you Big Fat Fella, and he yells at you a lot, doesn’t it bother you?” Daisy asked.

Snickers just smiled, “Our Man owner loves me, more than you can imagine.  He loves both of you too, more than you can imagine.  We are put here to teach our families how to truly love.  For some of our families, it takes a little more time, but eventually, they figure out what unconditional love means.  Our Lady owner figured it out a long time ago.  It took our Man owner a little longer, but he figured it out.  Our Man owner gets up in the middle of the night and lets me out to roam the yard and doesn’t complain like he used to.  He gives me whatever treats I want, and never complains.  He listens to me bark and howl and doesn’t yell anymore.  It took a while, but he figured it out.  He learned unconditional love.”

“He always loved me,” Little Bit whispered under her breath.

“Yeah, yeah, I know Little Bit, but you’re the Princess,” Snickers said with a smile.  “Daisy is too, I know, not like you Little Bit, but she is too.  Still, I know our Man owner loves me.  Maybe not quite like the Lady owner, but he still loves me.  And that’s why we’re here, we teach them unconditional love.  Some learn it slower than others, but eventually, they all learn it.”

Little Bit and Daisy looked very sad, and finally Little Bit asked, “Is there anything else Snickers?”

“Yeah, make sure you to tell Delilah, Charlotte, Tux and Mieka that I said goodbye.  Bark at them for me.  I told Franklin and Rosie goodbye last weekend, so they already know, but they’re puppies, they didn’t quite understand, you’ll have to explain it to them Little Bit.  And I’m going to miss both of you.  For girls, and puppies, you’re not so bad.”

Snickers rolled over and started nodding off to sleep.  Daisy, of course, darted out the door, chasing whatever squirrel was silly enough to be on the ground.  Little Bit stood there quietly, watching Snickers, and trying to figure out how she was going to take over the duties as the head of the McCullough dog family.  It was a big job for such a little dog.  I’m sure she will be up to it.

Providence

Thanks to Dave Carr, I created a personalized card that I use to send hand-written notes to people.  Dave is a huge advocate of doing this, it gives a personal touch to anything we do, and is so much more intimate than e-mails or texts.  My personalized card has Snickers on the front, with that huge smile on his face, and inside it says, “Sometimes we lose sight of the fact that the journey is just as important, and oftentimes just as much fun, as the destination.”  Yesterday, Patrick achieved a destination, he graduated from Oglethorpe University, Summa Cum Laude, he had one A- in his time there, the rest A’s.  I have to say though, in this case, while the journey was important, it definitely wasn’t fun.

Let me take you back three years ago to 2013 and when all hell broke loose for Patrick and the rest of the family as well.  Patrick had just gone back for his second semester of his sophomore year at Grove City College in Pennsylvania.  Patrick loved Grove City, it was a relatively small school, very strict religiously, and had very solid academics.  In January, we started getting some distressing calls.  Just a few weeks earlier, he had seemed very happy, but that had changed dramatically.  As the weeks went by, he was plummeting.  Each conversation was getting deeper and deeper into depression.  I finally told him, if he wanted to come home, just come home.  He then said the words that no parent ever wants to hear.  He said, “you won’t be disappointed in me?”  If there’s one thing in life I’ve learned as a parent, don’t ever tell your children or lead them to believe you are ever disappointed in them.  I told him no, I could never be disappointed in him. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t come home soon enough, and we got a call from the counselor on campus that Patrick was planning to commit suicide, and he wanted to admit him to a local psychiatric hospital.  This was our first experience with a psychiatric hospital, and we learned a lot, particularly patience.  Imagine yourself as a parent, and your child is five or six states away, and he/she is in a psychiatric hospital that you’ve never seen, and you can only talk to him or her once a day?  We patiently would wait for that time each evening, when we would get 10-15 minutes on the phone with Patrick, and try to decipher what the hell was going on.  As soon as we were able, Laurel and Kelly got a flight up to Pennsylvania to see Patrick in the hospital, which gave us a whole lot of comfort.  We were eventually able to secure Patrick’s release from the psychiatric hospital, and we were able to bring him home.

One of the most painful parts of all of this was withdrawing Patrick from Grove City.  When we got Patrick released from the psychiatric hospital, we also packed all of his stuff up from his dorm.  I will say that packing up his dorm room was one of the most painful separations I’ve witnessed in my life.  Patrick began believing he was gay, and once that became apparent at Grove City, he was rejected immediately.  Grove City holds itself out as a very caring, Christian environment, but that doesn’t apply to those that are different.  I will have to say this was also one of the most critical junctions in dealing with Patrick’s issues.  He was ready for us to reject him also, but Laurel and I both told him, just as God never started loving you, our love for you has no beginning or end.  We will love you always, no matter what.  That appeared to provide a great deal of relief to Patrick.

When we brought Patrick home, we had some significant adjustments to make.  We hid all of the knives in the house, or anything else that we believed he could hurt himself with.  Laurel spent many nights sleeping in the spare bed in Patrick’s room to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself.   But the pain for all of us was just beginning.  Shortly after Patrick came home, Patrick revealed the one night at dinner what had led him to want to commit suicide.  He revealed that his private music teacher from his middle school and high school years had sexually abused him.  For me, this was one of the greatest nightmares a parent can face.  We are given children to protect and raise, and we had failed at this.  It was devastating.  As a side note, we pursued many different angles with the police and the district attorney’s office.  We learned a lot about how little our government officials can or will do about issues like this, I guess, unless it provides major headlines like the situation at Penn State.

While I wish I could say that when Patrick came home, everything worked out happily ever after, and we all went back to normal, it wasn’t that simple.  The one night Patrick “disappeared” and Laurel thought a saw was missing.  I frantically drove down the road, no idea where I was going, but I was looking for Patrick.  The next thing I know, there he is walking down the road toward me.  As I pulled up, he said, “What?”, and I said get in the car.  I told him you can’t just go for a walk without telling us anything with the state you’re in. 

Patrick eventually went back into a local psychiatric hospital.  It was a disaster, the hospital was awful, and to a certain extent, that may have been a turning point for all of us.  Two bits of humor from this.  When we were checking him in late on a Sunday night at the hospital, he started stuttering.  I found out later that this can be a side-effect of anti-depressant medications.  I didn’t say anything, but I was livid.  Patrick has a beautiful singing voice, and all I could think was, “OK, we’ve put up with a lot, but by God, you will not stutter.”  The second thing was when we went to visit him after a few days, we found out how bad the place was.  I didn’t realize at the time how bad it was, and how much Patrick wanted out, and I asked the innocent question, “How do you like it here?”  He replied, “I f-f-f-f-fucking hate it!”  I guess you could call that gallows humor. 

Eventually, Patrick progressed, he climbed out of the depths, through various counselors and medication, he emerged from the depths of hell.  He was able to go back to school, to Oglethorpe University, and that was mainly because we wanted to keep him close by.  Patrick determined he wasn’t gay, the abuse made him assume he was, but he found out he wasn’t.  He has fallen far away from God, unfortunately.  He is angry at God for letting this happen, he is angry because the abuser is a “self-proclaiming” good Christian, who leads the worship music at his church.  Grove City College proclaims to be a good Christian college, but rejected him because he thought he was gay.  Through all of this, Patrick has soured on God and religion.

We still had some rocky moments along the way.  Patrick still has his moments, he can dip into depression at times, and at times, he can plummet into depression.  Unfortunately, the one time happened to be when he was an ocean away.  In the summer of 2014, Patrick wanted to go on a study abroad trip to Germany.  We of course had trepidation, but we finally thought it would be good for him, and he seemed to be so much better.  It all started off well, but then, he started plummeting again.  We would have discussions with him on the Skype, that was the only way we could talk to him, and he was definitely falling deeper.  At one point, he made the comment, “I probably won’t kill myself here, because I know it would be difficult for you to repatriate the body.”  Of course, that was our number one concern.  The worst experience was the one Sunday when we had scheduled a time to Skype with him.  No Patrick.  We waited, and waited.  As time wore on, I grew angrier and angrier.  I felt so helpless, I couldn’t figure out anything I could do to find out is he alive, where is he?  Thankfully, Laurel is much more resourceful than me.  She started looking up the various friends Patrick had made in Germany in the program on Facebook, and she started messaging all of them to see if they had seen Patrick.  One had, and she went down to Patrick’s apartment.  He had fallen asleep and missed our call.  We could start breathing again.

We now face a new chapter in our lives, in Patrick’s life.  He has finished college, and he now is headed to graduate school.  He was accepted to Rhode Island College, and he received a fellowship, so he first year at least is paid for.  The question that Laurel and I have struggled with for many months now is do you let him go?  We know what happened when he was at Grove City, we know what happened when he was in Germany, how will this be different?  Again, he will be many states away, what will we do if he plummets again?  Our daughter Kelly has even questioned us, questioned our judgment on this.  My dear friend from WIKA, Brent Shadix, also asked me about it.  We don’t know the answer, but we finally came to the conclusion, at some point, he is going to have to live his life.  Patrick has to be able to go where he wants to go or needs to go to follow his dreams or pursuits, and if that takes him away from us, we have to have faith that it will work out.  Are we scared?  Beyond imagination.  We’re scared to death for him to be so far away, knowing his history and his present.  We think about it, we pray about it all the time. 

I know this will sound crazy, but then again, I often find divine intervention in crazier places.  Last week, when I was at church, the pastor was doing a sermon on the Prodigal Son, which is one of my favorite parables.  As I listened intently to the sermon, the following line came crashing down upon me.  “I realize I have always believed there is a great Providence that, so to speak, waits ahead of us.”  You see, Rhode Island College is in Providence.  Maybe this is the Providence that Patrick needs to finally step out of the depths of hell once and for all.  Maybe this is the Providence that will help Patrick heal and to become better finally.  Maybe this is the Providence that God is calling Patrick to so that they can reconcile, and Patrick can finally forgive God for what happened to him.