Friday Morning Ramblings


Dear sons, one of my hopes for you is that you learn to be self-sufficient.  There’s a freedom to knowing how to do things for yourself that’s invaluable.  Not needing someone else to wash and iron your clothes or tend your yard or patch your roof or cook your meals allows you to stand on your own and not be dependent on anyone.  I hope you learn all of the essential skills and grow into the kinds of men who don’t need a woman to survive and who don’t have to call a contractor every time a faucet starts dripping.  You will be much happier men if you develop these skills.

I’m fortunate that your great-grandfather and papaw taught me how to do the basics of most things.  I’m fortunate that I learned to cook and do laundry while in college.  There aren’t many things I can’t do for myself, and I feel confident that even if I don’t know how to do something, I can figure it out with a little trial and error.  Part of learning self-sufficiency is not fearing making mistakes.  We learn the most when we try something, fail, and then try again.  If you want to grow into strong, independent men, set aside the fear of failure and try to do things for yourselves.

Even though this hasn’t worked out for me yet, I also believe that having self-sufficiency will make you a better partner for whomever you end up with.  When you can help out with the dishes as well as mow the yard, you can share more of the daily chores that make life a grind.  Sharing the load goes a long way to reducing stress in a relationship and makes you more equal as partners.  Also, if you can do for yourself, you are less likely to end up trapped in a bad situation because you have the confidence that you can survive on your own.

So sons, learn as many skills as you can.  As you grow, I’ll try to teach you some of what I’ve learned, but the most important skill I hope you cultivate is to teach yourself how to learn new things.  If you can do this, you’ll learn independence, and with independence comes freedom.  One of my great hopes for both of you is that you never feel dependent on anyone for anything.  I love you, boys, and can’t wait to see you in a couple of months.

Thursday Evening Ramblings


What a two days!  I have a newly found respect for roofers because laying that tar for several hours on end was a lot more taxing than I realized.  I had done some small repairs previously, and the small jobs weren’t so bad, but this one took it out of me.  The good news is I got most of the hard stuff done.  The bad news is there’s still a lot more to go.  With the weather looking the way it is, I may put that off for a couple of weekends.  Hopefully, what I have finished will prevent any leaks until I can finish the rest.

Despite being a little sore and ragged, I love physical labor.  Nothing is quite as therapeutic for me as hard work.  It clears my mind and allows me to focus solely on the task at hand.  Even if just for a few hours, all of my problems vanish, and it’s just me and the job.  Those of you who enjoy working in your yards or building something by hand probably know what I’m talking about.  Those of you who don’t should try it.  There’s not much more relaxing, and the instant gratification of seeing the job complete satisfies you quite nicely.

There’s still much to be done.  I have to finish and organize the inside and clean up around the outside, but considering the condition when I started, I’m content with the progress so far.  If I can do a little each day, by the time the boys are here, it should be a safe, cozy little place for us to hang out and play in.  The last time they were here, they loved the motor home and thought it was the coolest place they’d ever been, so hopefully by the time I’m done, they’ll love it just as much this time.

That’s about all today.  Tonight, I need to rest my body.  Tomorrow, I’ll get back to work and hopefully make more progress, and I hope to write a much more entertaining entry.  Until then, I hope everyone has a wonderful evening.

Wednesday Morning Ramblings

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A dull thud tapped me on the forehead, like someone had taken their palm and bumped me playfully.  The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the ground with two shotputs in my lap, which strange because I’d only been carrying one.  I rolled them away and tried to get my bearings, but everything was a swirl of colors and sounds.  Then, I felt a tickle on my eyebrow, like sweat was dripping, so I reached up to wipe it away and pulled back a hand coated in blood.  That’s when I knew something bizarre had happened.

On this day in 1989 at roughly 3:30 in the afternoon, I nearly lost my life.  An 8 lb. shotput had struck me on the right side of the head just above the hairline. I suffered a nasty laceration, exposing my skull, a severe brain contusion, and at the time, when they still graded concussions, the highest grade concussion on the chart.  Fortunately, it had hit me on the hardest part of the skull and didn’t fracture or even crack the bone.  Also, because of the angle, it mostly glanced off my head instead of impacting with full force.  I spent three days in the hospital, lost 20 lbs. from the trauma, and literally nearly died.  To this day, I live with some symptoms of post-concussion syndrome.

For many years, I wallowed in self-pity for everything the accident took from me: mostly the opportunities to play college football and join the marines on an ROTC scholarship.  Then, one day I woke up and realized that I was fortunate simply to be alive.  Today, as I mark the 23rd anniversary of the day that changed my life, I want to focus more on what the accident has given me, namely an appreciation for my life and my creativity.  Without those, I wouldn’t be the man I am today, and I’m fairly happy with that man.

In terms of appreciation, I see each day as a blessing, as time I’ve been granted by grace.  Even with all the turmoil and difficulties of the last five years, being alive and on this earth allows me the opportunity to learn and grow and laugh and love.  I’ve gotten to experience fatherhood, and if it took enduring that accident a hundred times to have my sons, line me up.  In terms of creativity, I’m convinced that at least in part, the injury awakened some part of my brain that had mostly been dormant.  At the very least, it forced me to turn my attention away from athletics and towards writing, so I see now that the accident has given me far more than it took.

Not too long ago, I found Bobby, the boy who had mistakenly thrown it, and got to tell him, after years of needing to share this, that I had never harbored any ill-will for him, even during the worst of my headaches and the darkest of days.  We were unsupervised kids, and even if he had had been trying to hit me, there was no way he could have done so on purpose.  It was just a dumb, fluke accident.  I hope he knows in his heart that he wasn’t to blame, and I hope he doesn’t carry around any misplaced feelings of guilt.  Bobby, if you happen to read this, I love you, man.

So today, as I remember that day and the subsequent years of symptoms, I ask all of you to do one thing.  Contact those you love most and tell them how you feel.  Don’t wait.  Do it now because you never know what split-second, dumb fluke could end their or your life.  Embrace your darkest moments, for even those days are blessings.  None of us are promised anything on the other side; everything beyond this world is pure speculation, so cherish each day on this earth.  Any day above ground is a good day.