Wednesday, December 16, 2015

I Lost My Dad Today


December 15, 2015 will be forever etched in my memory. That's the date my dad passed away. 

I don't fully understand why it takes something like the passing of a parent to make you reflect on what they've done for you, but I can't help but do that at this moment. 

My dad didn't teach me how to fix a car or change out an electrical fixture. He didn't really know the difference between a crescent wrench or a claw hammer. He didn't pass on superior knowledge of world politics or mathematical equations. He didn't show me how to throw a perfect spiral or ways in which to improve my swing, but he did teach me the intangibles of life. 

My dad taught me compassion. He taught me how to love, even when I didn't want to. He taught me to be kind. My dad had no enemies, only friends. My dad knew no strangers. My dad taught me about spiritual relationships. He taught me how to see God in his own imagine. Most importantly, my dad taught me how to accept without reservation. 

The memories of my dad, both the good and the bad, will always be with me. The ones I chose to cherish the most are those of a man who loved unconditionally and cared beyond measure.

You'll be missed, dad. 

A Common Man

Friday, November 20, 2015

I Have a Brother...




I have a brother.  He lives 400 miles west of me.  I don’t get to see him much, nor do we talk that often, but I know he’s there, I know he loves and cares for me, and I know I’d do anything in the world for him.  I’d be by his side if he needed me, I’d defend him if necessary, and I’d take care of his children if something every happened and they need a fatherly figure in their lives.

I have another brother.  He’s an old shipmate of mine.  We served in the Navy together.  We stood the mid watch together.  We shared beers together.  We spent time together when we were in port or at home.  We laughed together, we share a tear together, we watched our children grow up together, and we vowed to be there for one another no matter what.  We promised to look after each other’s family when the other couldn’t.  I love this brother like he’s my own flesh and blood.

I have another brother.  We coached together.  We played ball together.  We cheered for each other’s teams, even when we were on opposite sides of the field.  We’ve watch each other grow throughout the years.  We’ve shared jokes.  We’ve bad-mouthed professional coaches and general managers for making stupid decisions regarding our beloved teams.  I love this brother like he’s my own flesh and blood.

I have another brother.  We pray together.  We meet on Wednesday mornings for a men’s prayer meeting.  We asked about each other’s family.  We talk about accountability as a son, a father, a husband and a brother.  We listen to the pastor’s message together.  We reflect on the Word together.  We slap each other on the back when we’re departing, and we promise to pray for each other throughout the week.  I love this brother like he’s my own flesh and blood.

I have another brother.  We work together.  We greet each other warmly each morning.  We asked how work is going and what we can do to help one another out.  We have meetings together.  We try to solve company problems together.  We rely on each other’s knowledge and business expertise to help us get our tasks accomplished.  We share information with one another.  We seek each other’s advice and trust one another with business matters that should remain within an office confine.  I love this brother like he’s my own flesh and blood.

I have another brother.  I haven’t met him yet, but I consider him a brother nonetheless.  He’s the vet that stands on the street corner with a sign asking for help and blessing me for it.  He’s the stranger on the elevator that looks up from his phone and greets me warmly, wishing me a good day when he reaches his floor.  He’s the criminal that made a horrible mistake and pays for his sins with imprisonment.  He’s the guy in a dead end job who’s working to find the positives.  He’s the man that leaves he’s family every day to earn a wage so he can cloth his children, provide a roof over their head and food on the dinner table.  And he’s the refuge trekking with his family to find safety.  He’s looking for warmth and comfort.  He’s looking for food and shelter.  He’s doing everything within his power to protect his family from the tyranny of religious hatred.  I love this brother like he’s my own flesh and blood…

A Common Man    

Thursday, September 17, 2015

What Falls Out of You When You Are Shaken?


A question was posted to a group of men that I gather with each week - "What falls out of you when you are shaken?"  The imagine that immediately came to mind for me was that of a tree trunk violently tossed back and forth, with leafs, small branches and fruits falling to the ground.  I then began to wonder, what are MY leafs, branches and fruits??  How do I define them and what are their importance to me?

When I was a young boy, being shaken provoked fear.  The nature of it was unsettling to me and my leafs were tears, my branches represented worry, and the fruits were my dismay at what was happening to me.

When I became a young man, being shaken lost its visual effect on me, and turned to something more mental and emotional - losing a friend or family member, going through a breakup, getting into a fender-bender or failing a class.  In some regards, the thought of being shaken was an indication of loss of control, or lack of the ability to prevent it from happening in the first place.

As an adult, I came to realize that shakeups in my life  happened for a reason.  It was those shakeups that  formed who I am today.  The real question for me is how I respond to them now that I'm on the back side of life.

I would like to think that I handle shakeups with grace, prayerful thanks for the lessons it teaches me, and motivation to do better the next time around.  The reality is that I still get angry from time-to-time, tears come and worry captures me.

I may never get to a point in my life that shakeups don't bother me, but I hope to keep learning from them and be able to turn my tears into joy, my worries into trusting, and my dismays into contentment.

A Common Man

Thursday, August 13, 2015

My Pathways



I recently read somewhere that we create “pathways” throughout our lives in our relationship with others.  I began to reflect on exactly what that meant, and this is what I discovered.  Mind you, everyone has their own interpretation of how their lives are shaped, this is simply my way of thinking how my life has evolved, but I know my definition isn’t for everyone.

When I was a growing up I couldn’t understand why some people were part of my life and others weren’t.  I didn’t know why I got stuck with the mean teacher or the bad coach, why I had some friends and not others, why some girls liked me and others wouldn’t give me the time of day.  Of course, like any other boy I wanted the nice teacher, the fun coach, the coolest friends and the cutest girl to like me, but to me it seemed that I was always the unlucky one.  Why did I have to eat at the nerd table at lunch?  Why was it that the girl with the gap in her front teeth and big nose seem to like me, but the pretty blond with a bow in her hair would never look my way?  Why was I always in the PE class with the smoking, alcoholic coach that wore his gym shorts too high?  Why was my teacher the one with the bad breath who yelled all the time?  Why me??

As I grew older my relationships with others evolved.  I grew out of my awkward stage and started to gain muscle.  My baseball and football teammates became my friends.  The cute girls began to notice me.  My teachers and coaches became more tolerable.  I started working and created new relationships as an employee.  I became the trainer and not the trainee.  My life was changing and I began to discover the true “me!”

I became an adult.  People came in and out of my life.  Fraternity brothers, girlfriends, professors, co-workers, bosses, roommates, shipmates and extended families.  I matured, married, had children, became a teacher, became a coach, and became a boss.  More people became interwoven into my life and I slowly discovered that there was purpose and meaning to every aspect of my experiences and interactions with everyone that I considered a part of who I had become.

I’m going to become a grandpa for the first time in December.  My life is evolving once again.  I’m discovering that my experiences and what I’ve learned from all those that have been a part of my life have taught and prepared me for this new moment.  You see, I now understand what creating “pathways” throughout our lives really means.  My pathways have led me to each and every one I’ve come in contact with throughout my life.  Throughout the years I’ve learned to avoid certain paths and run to others.  I’ve learned to enjoy the view along some paths and turn away from the ugliness of others.  I’ve learned to love and cherish where some paths lead me, and pray for guidance down those foreign or unknown to me.

As an older man, I see my pathways as an opportunity to hold my granddaughter’s hand and lead her down her own pathways as she grows.  I will help her learn which directions to avoid and which paths are safe.  She will have to discover her own way, but my life would mean nothing if I didn’t share with her and others the lessons I’ve learned along the way.
~A Common Man

Monday, January 5, 2015

I Resolve To.....


Each year I find myself getting caught up on what my New Year's resolution will be.  It seems to always center around weight reduction, getting back into shape, etc.  Although I still need to focus on those areas (too frequently, to be perfectly honest), this year I'd like to think I'm capable of resolving to accomplish something far greater....being kinder and far more understanding of those around me.

Not too long ago I got irritated by someone driving a 4x4 pickup truck far too fast and erratic (in my estimation), cutting me off on the highway.  I was going the speed limit, but it wasn't fast enough for him, and he took it upon himself to speed past me, then cut me off - almost like he was trying to prove a point or something.  Of course, I didn't respond well and said a few things in his direction that I probably shouldn't have.  Not only did it not solve the situation, it made me irritable for a time afterwards.  I allowed his actions to control my own behavior.  Not good.....

So, how I can resolve to control my emotions in a more productive manor?  How can I reprogram myself to get less upset and let things go?  I can start by considering the following:

1. Not everyone sees things the way I do.  Just because my perspective of things may feel right to me, in all likelihood the guy in front of me may not see it the same way.  The guy who cut me off may have needed to be somewhere quicker than I was allowing with him behind me.  Maybe he had a job interview.  Maybe he had a sick child he needed to get to.  Maybe he was late for an important meeting.  Maybe he was just being a jerk, but why should I automatically make that assumption?

2. Realize that EVERYONE has their own issues to resolve.  I shouldn't require others to act the way I think they should act, or say the things I think they should say.  If everyone has a right to be their own person, shouldn't I allow them that right?  Who am I to force others into my definition of being a good person?

3. Be considerate, no matter how bad the situation.  I must realize that others will do and say things that are hurtful to me, but they may not realize it.  I must understand I will say or do things that are considered hurtful by others as well.  If I'm to do a better job of realizing that others don't necessarily mean to be hurtful, I must start with myself and consider what I say or how I respond first.

This year, I resolve to be more grateful for what I have, more patient with others and not take things so personally, and consider the fact that all of us have our own stuff to deal with on a daily basis.  It starts with me....It starts with you.  Let's do this together; what do you say?

A Common Man