Words started to blur on the screen.  Effort was needed to read.  Effort was needed to focus.  What was happening?  Surely, the first signs of an alignment that would lead to my demise.  Record the date.  This will let my daughter know exactly when I knew the end was nigh.

What does when do when their eyes get blurry?  Make an eye appointment!  How does one do that?  There are people who have been wearing glasses since they were a child.  They know known how to navigate that world.  The closest things to an eye exam for me was the little grey box at the DMV.  Usually, ending with a compliment about “what great eyesight you have.”  A compliment worn like a “S” on my chest.

An appointment was made.  There the doctor said what was happening was a natural progression of age.  What was happening typically shows 4 years earlier.  “Be happy for four bonus years”, he said.  He said not to panic.  There was an easy fix.  All that was needed were glasses.

Last night, getting ready for bed, I kneeled on glasses laid upon the bed.  Too busy.  Too distracted.  Too focused on the jumbles in my head. 

Two years ago, those glasses would not have been curling up, getting ready for bed.  They were not part of me.  Eyes were fine.  Chugging along.  Little skips, like a car letting you it is time for a check-up.  But working and functioning.

After many months, they have not been recognized as the extension they deserve to be.  They have not become a phantom limb when missing.  They are a tool waiting to be used.  An unwanted tool.  Not fully appreciated for the services they provide (have provided).  When this kneeling happened, it was disappointing, but handled gracefully.  A moment. A flummox.  No finger pointing.  No blame.

Then unbridled panic.  Without them words cannot to be lifted off the page.  Worlds cannot be explored.  Knowledge stays contained.  Secrets hidden within the page.  Information held hostage. Me untrained to negotiate their release.

Those glasses went on a journey.  The provided comfort and security.  They allowed this blog to exist.  They curled up with a glass of wine and a good book on those first nights without my daughter sleeping in the room next to me.

It is amazing the things that can be overlooked. Unappreciated.  Underappreciated.  Neglected.  Until they no longer exist.  Until they can no longer be used.  These moments help you stop and think.  To reflect and recognize what is truly needed.  All the electronics.  The toys, the gadgets, the willy-woos and doople-dings.  In the end, just things. 

Things that cannot be used without the glasses, sitting broken, on the bed stand.

A Vegan Father… using glasses that came in a 3 pack for $9.99 at Staples.  Being appreciated for the joy they provide.

Posted.  Not perfect.

when you say to me

nothing

the words are

screaming in my ears

tears form in the corners

of my eyes

the nothing hurts more

than

don’t imagine

look and see

the power you hold over me

letting go was the only way

to set free the fear of seeing

through the tears

welling up in the corners of my

eyes

35 minutes to pick-up time.  Instead of journaling inside, drinking coffee and being locked indoors, the time was taken to walk to the coffee shop.  A calming breeze, sun hidden behind trees, birds chirping loudly.  Deciding if 90’s music in the background is appreciated or not. 

Life in flux.  Something new learned in the morning, affects the day.  Will affect tomorrow.  Stack new tomorrow.  Repeat.  Each day possibilities. 

What if what is had is being wasted?  Would someone else wish to have the opportunities I have been provided?  Could someone look at what is before me and think “how dare you” not appreciate it every day?  Looking forward wanting what others have.  Jealous. “Missing” from life, what could be “if only”.  Never looking back and seeing what others see about you.  How they look and think “if only”. 

What if looking back is moving forward?  Instead of reaching for goals, reaching back, and pulling up.  Would we admire the one that reached the top having left more behind?  Or the one that never made it to the middle but pulled up many to her or his level?

History will remember the one at the top.  Many will remember the one in the middle.

I do not write for you.  I write for me.  And share with you.  Reaching from the middle.  This may be my summit.  The peak reached.  Because it is not the top there are places to go.

A Vegan Father… deciding he does appreciate the 90’s music in the background.

Posted.  Not Perfect.

-Hey Dad. Do you know what a piss is?

-No. What is a piss?

-It’s a mix of a purr and hiss.

Now you also know what a piss is.

A Vegan Father… learning new words.

Posted. This one perfect.

I was getting upset at books I was reading.  Most recently it was Freedom by Sebastian Junger.  A complete book in 133 pages.  The upsetting part is what people are creating outside the norm without permission.  Three chapters: Run, Fight, Think.  Sebastian chose his structure.  He followed where the book took him.  Not the expectations of what a book should be.  This also happened with Rupi Kaur’s poetry books.

Maybe those books have always existed.  Maybe people not following the “rules” failed to enter my atmosphere.  Maybe, it was a lack of, or a fear of… whatever the lack of or fear of was.  Insecurity?  Listening to others, to follow a particular path?  Coloring in lines others had pre-drawn.

Whatever the reason, the permission has been given.  Examples have been provided.  They are your words to share however you choose to share.  The only gatekeepers are the ones you seek approval from, are told you need approval from, or think you need approval from.

Rupi was turned down by major publishers for her book of poetry.  Poetry books don’t sell she was told.  Her words could have stayed on a hard drive, in a notebook, locked in a drawer.  Instead, she self-published and became a worldwide sensation.

We are told people know things.  We should follow this path or other.  *Blank* is what is takes to be successful.  *Blank* is what’s needed to be x, y, or z.  The world is littered with people who could have if only they hadn’t listened to those that said you need to do or be “x”.

How much further would we be today if we hadn’t crushed hopes and dreams of those willing to color outside the lines.

Stop forcing kids, yourself, your friends, and co-workers onto the standard path walked on and paved over by so many others.  Stop doing it because that is what you were taught and told.

I’ve written about permission before, and it will be written about again.  The only permission promoted is the permission to not need permission.  Follow your instinct.  Create a different path.  Be the permission for another to form their own path.  You are not only forging your path, you are an example those who find you.

A Vegan Father… redefining words like what it means to need permission to do.

Posted. Not Perfect.

First time in a year and a half sitting in a Starbucks before picking up my daughter.

One of the hardest parts of being in a relationship with a child is developing the skills to talk with and discuss intricacies with another person about raising a child.  This seems universal.  As people we are not taught, therefore we do not learn, to talk, to listen, to share our thoughts and views in a positive, productive way.  To we are not appreciate perspectives from another’s point of view.  Honest talks and conversations with someone you love and care about are difficult.

Now, add divorce.  Sprinkle in judges and lawyers and shotty grandparents and feelings and hurt and anger and annoyance and disrespect and contempt.  Take a person that has done unkind things to you and figure out how to navigate an honest, open, positive conversation about an issue with parenting.  It can be panic inducing.

There is situation concerning my daughter that needs to be addressed.  More than a week has been utilized formulating words, putting to paper, rewriting, thinking about, fine-tuning an email to communicate this. So, the issue gets addressed.  Not to have the words misunderstand or misinterpreted.  That it protects my daughter and focuses on the issue.  Not create a negative reaction or response.  Even writing this the worry is the focus will not be where it needs to be.  That it will not be about the best interest of our child.  That it will create a defensive response.  The worry it will be an attack on me for what happened when not with me.  Another layer to consider.

While I continue to work on how to get the wording exactly right in an email, the problem persists of how to help my daughter.  What can be done to address the situation for her now, so the negative situation, when it happens again (and it will), she is better prepared to deal with it.

Now, let us talk about the good in a divorce. 

The learn to pay forward, part of the hurt and anger in a divorce is the thought, as a father, it is my job to protect my child.  Because that is the job of a  father; protect your daughter.  That is the roll.   That is the promise you make when you become a father.  When you have a girl, you protect your little girl.  If I cannot do that, then what is the point?  What happens next?

The first point is to understand that mindset is wrong. Two, it is not your job to protect your child. 

The job is to guide, to inform, to provide tools, to listen, to learn, to prepare, to teach.

My job is not to protect my daughter.  It is to provide the means for her to know what to do in situations.  If you think your job as a parent is to protect your child, you will fail.  Because you will never to there all the times.  You will never be all the things.  Ultimately, that mindset will weaken your child.  It will create a co-dependent relationship where they need you to make their choices.  They will look to you for right or wrong (and we are never always right). The feeling you get every time your child turns to you could power a city for a year, but it does not serve them.  It serves your ego.

Whenever my daugther wanted to try something “dangerous” (relatively speaking based on her age) climb a tree, explore a playground, use the jungle gym, etc., and she would say “hold me daddy”.  My response, “No, you’ll be okay. You got this”.  Sometimes that worked. Sometimes it did not.  Then I would say, “Okay, I’m not going to do it for you, but I’m here if you need help”. Sometimes hovering my hands under her so she felt an invisible encouragement.  I would not say “I’ve got you”, or “Dad’s got you”. Instead say, “If you need help while doing it, ask”.  The point was to make her father indistinguishable from a teacher, a friend, another parent, or a coach.

That is one of the hardest parts of parenting.  To be a good parent, you need to make it so you are no different than anyone else.  You need to find the moments that are special as a parent for yourself, not for them. 

Some parents do not get to put their kid to bed.  If you teach them you are the be all end all of putting them to bed, they will struggle.  That was for you, not them.  You feel the parenting “Oh, they just need me”. Instead of creating a situation where they will go to bed simply fine on their own, or with anyone.

The first time my daughter had a baby-sitter that would be putting her to bed I informed the sitter of the bedtime routine.  Fairly sure she thought I was a little crazy, but of course said “okay”.  When we got back the baby-sitter looked at me and said, “I did the bedtime routine.  I could feel her holding my hand as she fell asleep her hand it just went limp.  Just like you said”.

People said (no names mentioned) that things like her bedtime routine was about me.  That I was making my daughter rely on me, need me (projecting much?).  That I was as being obsessive about putting her to bed (a different blog post).  Nope.  It was about the routine.  About providing her comfort and structure.  Moments that could be done by anyone.  Follow the routine yes.  But anyone could do those routines.  If they choose to (no names will be mentioned who did not out of spite, to the detriment of my daughter).  That was the theory, the hope, and ultimately the result.  She did not need me.  She just needed comfort and consistency (which happened to be done by me 99.9% of the time).

Now, that gets extrapolated out to her current situation.  It is building new skills and new routines.  Only this time, ones to be done by her, for herself.  It is about  being able to trust and believe and have autonomy over herself and her choices.

Does it break my heart even now?  Of course.  Do I want to pick up a shield and sword and protect the gates of her castle? For her to think her father is the hero of her story.  You better believe it.  It is hard to step back. It is hard to not be at the gates protecting her castle.  Being seen by her, as her hero.

Yet, that would rob her of being the hero of her story.  For her to pick up the shield and sword and know she has got this.   One day I will fade away. No longer be here.  What are the consequences of  parenting if she does not know herself to the be hero of her story? Or being able to be the hero of her story?

I will write the email.  I will reach out to say something to ensure my daughter is safe.  And I will always talk with her about how to handle similar and other situations in the future.  Hopefully, building a bond of trust with me, or another authority figure when she requires advice.  She does not need me to show her where the sword and shield are.  She will know in her heart that “she’s got this” (as my hands still hover, just in case, because right or wrong, I cannot help myself).

Does this seem complex?  Good.  It should be.  Because it is.  Because if it was not, you would be doing something wrong.

A Vegan Father… watching the person become the hero.

Posted. Not Perfect.

a reminder

it’s not your fault

lack of sleep

poor diet

don’t get upset

this is your job

you signed up for this

keep the focus on who matters

personal feeling aside

parent

don’t break

she needs to know

this is her safe place

it’s okay she hears

she knows this

as she crawls onto my lap

and pulls my arms around her

i don’t know why i’m sad she says

you are feeling what you are feeling

those feelings are okay

they are yours

hold me tighter she says

of course i say

you were in my dream last night

you were getting married

a final opportunity

a last chance to have it be me

25 years late

you still find your way to me