Going Home

                I have been meaning to write you for so many weeks. It’s been months since I have written and so much has changed. We are going to move back to Phoenix this September. I guess that is the biggest change of all.

                I am sure you will learn this about your father, but I will just go ahead and say it. I am nostalgic. I was about Phoenix when we left, and I will be about Atlanta when we leave. No matter what the event in life I have always dwelled on the moments before they ended and taken the time to consider how they changed my life.

                We moved to GA in large part so that your father could discover something about himself. I needed to know how much I was willing to do to develop my career in the corporate world. Within a large company the quickest way to ascend to better and better jobs is to be geographically flexible, and willing to move every 2-3 years as roles open up that help you develop your professional skills. I was able to be promoted far enough in Phoenix to see the possibility that someday I could have a very important job that rewarded me personally and provided very well for our family. I had the opportunity and I decided to take the leap, and your mother was brave enough to leap with me.

                We have really enjoyed GA, the people, the climate, our life and my job. However, it is not home, and it would never be. I discovered after some time that there was no way I could uproot us every few years, most likely to locations that were nowhere near as pleasant as GA is. I couldn’t leave new friends that often, nor did I want to commute with you and your brother cross country 3 times a year for weeks at a time. For everything in life there is a cost, in business they call it the cost/ benefit analysis. GA benefited me in many ways professionally, but it costs us personally. I may never be a president or executive in a large company, that is going to be the consequence of my decision. I will still provide for us, and work hard, but my opportunities will be limited to what is available in Phoenix.

                The benefit is going to be that you will grow up with friends you spend your life with, that you will know your grandparents better, and hopefully that you know there is nothing more important than the people you share your life with.

                This has been the most stressful time in my life, or at least it comes close. But nothing relaxes me more than being with my family. Your brother is crawling everywhere, you are obsessed with dangling from my neck and having me catch you when you finally let go. You tell me all the time that we are best buddies, and that we will be forever. I know that is true, but I cringe to think of the times you wont want me around, or think that I am not being a good father.

                I love you so much, you bring more joy to my life than I thought possible. Typically when I roll over due to being poked in the back at 7am on a Saturday you are standing beside the bed, staring at me, waiting to start the day. I wonder what I will think about the decision we are now making 10 years from now, how our lives, how you will be different. I feel regret that you will have to leave some of your friends here behind, that you will most likely lose any memory of them as time continues.

                When I think of Georgia I will think of tall pines and green grass everywhere. I will think of the red clay in the dirt, of warm fires on cold nights and being a family in an unfamiliar place. I will think about how we came as a family of 3 and left as a family of 4. I visited 6 countries I had never been to before, and worked in an office for the second time in my life, I made friends I will miss, but memories I will keep.

                I am glad we came, and I will be happy to be home. I never imagined we would be here for so short a time. I don’t know what our families future holds, but I know we will be together through whatever comes.

I love you and love you and love you. 

Singapore

Your father traveled across the world this week, while you traveled across the country with your mother and brother back home to Phoenix. I am currently in Singapore, a small, prosperous city in Southeast Asia. I would say it reminds me of a tropical New York City.

Last night I ventured out from the Hilton and had a great dinner at a Tapas bar owned by a friendly and free pouring Austrian gentlemen. He had recently acquired some wines from his home country and luckily for me I was sitting next to some of his good friends and was engaged in about 7 rounds of tastings. I struck up a conversation with the strangers at the bar, a gentleman from the UK and his girlfriend who was from Singapore.  They invited me to a bar called Harrys- great live music, a very interesting scene to say the least and some conversation when you could manage over the volume coming from the speakers.

As I said the scene inside of Harrys was very interesting, many older white males, and many young Asian women (I was told many were from Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia). In a word they were working girls, working what they call the oldest profession, selling one’s body for sex.  Located across the street from the bar was a shopping mall of sorts. It is called the “four floors of whores” by locals. Of course my guides told me about it and said I must see it while I was here. I was happy to have their company as I would not have attempted it on my own.

That night I didn’t think much of the scene around me, I was mostly focused on having a good time, taking in the spectacle and relaxing after a stressful week of work. We went to two of the floors, and inside one of the bars, actually a country bar believe it or not. I never thought I would hear Toby Keith over the speakers in Singapore, I guess I can’t escape him no matter how far away I go!

I woke up far too early today and promptly went downstairs to rehydrate and get some breakfast, came back to the room and started considering the experience of the night before. In passing it seemed somewhat harmless, somewhat tempting, forbidden, exciting, all in good fun. However, the more I dwell on it the more it bothers me. Not only does it bother me that there is a part of me that was tempted by this, but that prostitution has always and will most likely always exist. Poor and desperate women doing what they can to survive, and males of low enough quality to pay/force upon/ or engage in the activity with them.

I shudder at the mere thought of you being one of those women. However, you are them. Not that your “profession” is shared with theirs, but that your spirit, your femininity, your vulnerability and strength. I didn’t look at them like I look at you; my initial instinct was not to protect them as I would you. I am sorry to say but I was a spectator, I smiled and moved along as though they were there for my entertainment. I still disappoint myself more often than I would like.

As with these women you are vulnerable. One of your key vulnerabilities is your desire to be loved by a man, and the trust you will place in them. There is nothing wrong with your desire for love, acceptance, and value from men, it is God given. The weakness is inverse to the weakness of men. Our weakness (one among many) lies in the sometimes narrow focus on only physical pleasure, regardless of cost to those we engage in it with. Women desire this love and acceptance, and men too often exploit it to fulfill their own desires. We say the right words, make you feel the way you want to feel, so that you will reciprocate with the physical affection that we had in mind all along.

As I said, there is nothing wrong in your desire, or that of a man’s. The difficulty is that the physical affection is exchanged before a true emotional connection is established, before the man has made any real commitment or bond of himself to the woman. When that occurs the man walks away physically satisfied, and the woman is left with a broken heart and feeling of absolute rejection and worthlessness. It is only when you are in a committed relationship, and so to say “he put a ring on it” that the exchange should take place. Imagine signing over the title to your car to someone because they spoke nicely to you, took you to dinner and promised that eventually they would pay you for it. When they drive away never to return you are left only with your regrets. In one scenario it is your wallet that is empty, in the other, your soul.

                As I said, women are strong, in many regards stronger than a man could ever be. The women I saw were not weak, though some may see them as such. They may take abuse and torment, but they are strong enough to endure and survive. Many of them have little choice in the matter, but they are strong enough to endure what I see as unendurable, and most likely they endure it for the betterment of someone they love. Women may lack the physical strength of men, but they have strength of character, love, patience, fortitude, wisdom, and faith. It is by the weakness of men that women are often made stronger, it is by our failures to live up to our charge that women often suffer.

                You are mine as much as I am yours. That means to the peril of my life, liberty and prosperity I will sacrifice for the betterment of your life. My bond and commitment to my family is unique in depth and significance, but as a man I am called to live my life to the betterment of all around me. To protect the innocent, provide for the poor, and show love to my neighbors as Christ did. If all men adhered to this calling those women would not be on those street corners, and a great many other evils would not exist. But we are fallen, I struggle, men struggle, no matter our title or place in this world we fall short of our God given calling.

                I would have you know what a man is, so that you give your heart to one that is worthy of that gift. Trouble is that I will be your measure of what a man is, and I still feel that there is much improvement to be made. I do not want you to endure what your mother did while I was learning what it meant to be a husband. Some pain in life is good, it is a cruel but effective teacher, but that does not mean I want to think about you enduring pain.

                You are three years old, each week you say at least 10 new things that make me smile. Last week while we were on a “magical adventure” to pick dandelions you were holding them in your hand, running around yelling “do your job wind!”. You were wearing a green dress and cowboy boots in a large grass field and I hope I never forget how beautiful you looked. Even at three you make me proud every day, you are sweet, kind to others, so very smart, and you love and trust me completely. I will endeavor to see all women in the same light I see you and your mother, and to value them as such. I will continue to strive to be a man worthy of your mother’s love, so that when your heart is ready, you will know how to see past the disingenuous boys of this world and recognize the man who will dedicate the rest of his life to protecting, caring for, and enriching yours.

                I can’t wait to get home and see you- I have two more countries and 12 more days.   

Dinner Wars

                I think part of being a good parent is admitting when you are not, and learning from it. Let me tell you, lately, you have been making me work very hard at being a better parent. Not only are you my beautiful little girl, you are also very smart; in the same way a velocaraptor is smart while trying to figure out how to eat you (reference to movie Jurassic Park, which will most likely look like it was hand sketched by 3 year olds by the time you are an adult).

                Almost every dinner is a battle, unless you are eating the following: hot dogs, pizza, mac and cheese, or grilled cheese. Dinner typically goes like this, you push your food around and generally play with it, around the time I am finishing mine I begin to encourage you to eat yours. You ever so politely decline my invitation, I more strongly request that you try your food, to which you reply “how many bites”? Your mother and I had devised a bite limit strategy to get you to eat, the goal being if you knew what you had to accomplish it would be less daunting than endless food.

                The next stop on our nightly parade of misery is the negotiation. You begin to ask about what kind of “special” you will get in return for your efforts. This is also something you learned from another failed strategy of mine in the Great Dinner Wars. I would place a reward in front of you- so you could see the light at the end of the food tunnel. In the end it proved more distracting than encouraging. You typically start throwing out numbers of bites, your math is not so keen at this point and so often you will gladly up the ante, I will request 5 bites, and you will say, “how about 8” ok deal!

                We have tried starving you as well, but like a grizzly bear preparing for the winter your fasting skills are well honed. You went a full 36 hours without eating, and without many of your creature comforts including: tv, ipad, your fuzzy blanket, your nig nights, and freedom to leave your room. In the end you brought your mother to tears with your refusal and we spanked you until you ate. Upon eating the soup which you had refused for 36 hours you said “oh that’s tasty” as though nothing had happened and as though you had not just received 3 spankings to force you into taking a bite.

                As a parent you have to decide who will dictate the family life. It can either be your children, or it can be you. As the more senior of the parties involved we decided it best we take the reins. The decision to not let you behave, eat, speak, and dress as you please is a tough one. It would be far simpler to just say “ok, whatever you want when you want it”. No more dealing with tears, temper tantrums, or lost youth (my youth). However, how well can that possibly prepare you for the world you will someday enter? This world says no more often than yes, and it’s often the highway and not your way. Learning that you must live in the world and that the world will not bend to you is crucial, and surprisingly something many miss (you will meet more than you can imagine). 

                What am I learning through this you may ask? Well, patience for one, and to say I am sorry. It has been nagging at me all day that last night I lost my temper with you. You were kind of hysterical and instead of being patient and loving I used a mean voice and acted in a way I would have been embarrassed to if a stranger saw me. There are plenty of times when as a parent you have to be firm and forceful and even follow up with physical punishment (spankings). More often than not though you just need me to hear you, hug you, let you know that I love you no matter what and wait with you until you calm down.

                Yesterday we were playing in the park, I was “prince daddy” and you were “princess Cora”. We ran all around being chased by a dragon, I would save you at every turn. Later we had an adventure though the woods and you kept repeating to me what I say to you every night “don’t worry, don’t be scared, there is no such thing as monsters”. Finally we went for a bike ride, right now I walk beside you as you learn and peddle away. When you say “I am going too fast” I will reach down and slow your bike. You look up and me and say “you’re the best daddy ever, you save me every time”. You save me every time. I would have those words ring true throughout your life, I would give anything to make it so, but it wont happen. There will be hurt and grief, things beyond my control. One thing I can control is myself, and I don’t ever want to be the reason you hurt.

                Your mother began the work I think you and your siblings will finish, making me a better man. Each step in life has so many challenges, so many things to learn if you are willing. I love you so much, and I feel so bad when I am less of a father than you need me to be. I am learning, and paying attention though, and I will keep working. I love how much you love to dance, and desire my time and attention. I love that you make up songs to sing like me, and that you hear and eventually repeat nearly everything I say as though it was your own though. I don’t love it at 11:30, 12:30 and then 1:30 when you come and wake me up because you are scared of monsters. But I love it at 5:30 when I finally let you cuddle with me, mom and Deacon in bed. I love how great of a big sister you are, and how God has blessed me with the perfect daughter.

Following your heart

                I have probably flown into and out of San Diego CA 30 times over the last 4 years. Nearly every time I would look out the window as we were getting near and see the desert floor rise up to become red and dusty cliffs, and atop those cliffs there was a sprawling forest, mountain meadows dotted with lakes. I longed to stand in one of those meadows, and breathe in the last gasps of the cool air before it descended, unencumbered of its moisture to meet the ceaseless desert beyond.

                I am happy to report that on this business trip I did just that, I journeyed where my heart was longing to go. I mapped my route and set off, me and my rental car, and a can of redbull which I sometimes indulge in on roadtrips. I had a rather sporty car this trip, so the curves of the mountain road made the journey all the more enjoyable.

                As I neared the top and the shrubs turned to giant towering trees I realized what many explorers these days realize, others had come before me. The forest was dotted with cabins, and some of the meadows were fenced for cattle, sometimes l long desperately to be the first in a truly wild place. Nonetheless the area met my expectations, the road was the Sunset Highway, it began near Pine Valley and I am happy that I do not yet know where it ends. Perhaps someday we will find out together as a family.

                Even though the area was settled there was seclusion to be found, quiet places uninterrupted by the thoughts and footsteps of others. I found such a place where the wind must have been blowing at 30 miles per hour. I stood on the edge of those cliffs I had seen so many times from the sky. I tasted the last drops of the cool ocean air before they plummeted down to the desolation below. I sat and heard nothing but the wind, with no troubles plaguing my mind, and no worry in my bones.

                I often wonder if you will love wild places as I do, if such love can be instilled by a father to his children. My father brought me to the outdoors more times than could be counted. He brimmed with knowledge of plants, animals, native people, and a lot of other things you will most likely hear about someday whether you want to or not. Did his love create mine? Or did he simply introduce me to something I longed for all along and had yet to encounter?

                I will certainly be making frequent introductions. Someday you will be old enough to protest and find other pursuits to fill your time, but I hope you will find a passion for the wild as I have. I never feel as at peace as I do in those places. I never feel as bonded to others as I do when I have shared an adventure with them. There is simply a poetry to beautiful to wordsmith that stirs in me when I am free of the cities and the constant distractions of life.

                I can not wait to share it with you someday. As a father I long to share all that I find that is good in this life with you. Nothing could bring me more joy than to share that which I value, with that which I treasure. I love you always and forever, and I hope you take the time to seek out the desires of your heart.