Category Archives: Our Life

Inland Empire: The Great Pretender

BY MICHAEL ARMIJO

I remember dressing up like batman; the little K-Mart suit with the plastic mask. I remember watching SWAT and grabbing a stick like it was my machine gun. I remember trying to lift the car because I wanted to be Steve Austin, the Six Million Dollar Man.

You’d think it was healthy to give your imagination a chance to flourish, to enhance your creativity. But without proper guidance, explanation, and influence, it’s hard to differentiate between reality and fantasy. Without explanation, the lines of reality are blurred, so you embed in your mind that when life seems difficult you can mask your pain, like you did when you were a child, and become someone you’re not.

I remember being stressed to a point that I felt I could no longer take it. So I went out, drank, and became someone I wasn’t. I pretended to be someone who didn’t exist, someone I never was and never could be. I reverted to my child-like instincts and put on that K-Mart batman mask and picked up that SWAT stick while trying to lift that car. I became the Great Pretender.

While acting like I was a college scholar, a big shot at my company, or a racing car driver, I really felt alive. I felt like a complete human being because my mind was hungry to be complete, like a child who wants to become a super hero. My lies were my super power and my reality was my kryptonite.

I liked the escape of not being who I was.  Abused and neglected. Deceived and tormented. Tortured and ridiculed. Worst of all, I was verbally accosted and left to play violent and damaging tapes of lies and pain. Pretending was an escape, which helped me not only overcome the pain I had been suffering, but allowed me to feel as though I were normal for a while. It made me feel like I was a human being. Something I’d yearned to feel like for so many years.  These incidents happened so quickly and many years have passed. But today the memories are still haunting.

In the past I had embraced my desire to be something I’m not. But today I will seek to be someone who makes me feel complete. I will no longer wear the mask I had worn for so many years. I will seek truth in myself and accept what has transpired throughout my life. But I will continue to pretend, now in a fun and joyful manner; because yesterday, today, and tomorrow, I am, deep inside, the Great Pretender.

 

I Know You’re Proud

 

By Michael Armijo

You know, I never really called him daddy. My sister did, and I always envied how he brought that up so many times. But now I can say, “I miss my daddy.” When he died something inside me died. I think it was the first time I realized that I was really on my own. I always felt that dad would “take me in” had I ever made a major mistake in life, had I lost everything and had no place to go. But that feeling is gone, I no longer have a ‘safety net’ in my life. He’s not there to “take me in” anymore. At that time I realized that there was no turning back.

I do miss him, despite the anger he carried and conveyed to me. But what I miss is his strength; and later, his encouragement. He always told me how he admired the way I took on the world if I had a dream. He always said I was so strong to make hard decisions and take action. He loved to watch me work. And he loved working with me. The funny thing is, now that he’s gone I don’t make hard decisions anymore. I don’t take action like I used to. Maybe I was showing off to daddy, trying to be the star above the other kids in our family. But my dad meant so much to all of us, we all tried so hard to be number one in our daddy’s eyes. And fortunately, we all got our turn to be number one. But I almost didn’t get my turn, being the youngest. I got my turn at the end of his life. Had I not confronted him five years before he died, had I not tried to get my turn at being the number one child, I never would’ve received my fifteen minutes of ‘family fame.’

In retrospect, our family never really communicated. I think this is why it took me so long to really get to know my father. It’s kind of strange, we really didn’t know what was deep inside daddy, but we needed to be recognized by him. It meant so much to us to be recognized by someone we often felt was a stranger. And I know that I kept many things to myself, holding many memories prisoner in my mind, and some in my heart, that I never shared with him. He did teach us that we had the ability to do whatever we wanted, but he never really taught us how to communicate. I believe we need clarity; this assures us of where we stand within our lives. We would then teach our children to understand the importance of expression, the importance of how to express our feelings.

When I expressed how I felt to my father, I found out why he treated us the way he did. When we discussed his life and what happened to him when he was a child, the abuse and the neglect he endured (and we ultimately inherited), we understood, together, what happened to him. And what happened to us. But we forgave and we healed. I became more of a complete person; I closed those rough chapters in my life. This is why I believe in the importance of the ‘healing power of expression.’

Although my dad and I became close friends and I got to know him on a personal level, there is something that I always wished he would’ve said to me, something I waited all my life to hear but never did. Something I know he died with, in his heart, but he never verbally gave to me. The five simple words, “I’m so proud of you.” That’s all I ever wanted to hear from my daddy, that’s the one thing that will always be a void at the corner of my soul.

I also realized something that I never thought of: I never told my dad that I was proud of him, either. I am left to wonder if he carried the same disappointment in his life, as I did with mine. But today, what keeps me going is the hope that he’s looking down upon me each day, watching what I do and how my time is being spent. And I believe that he can’t hear what I say, but instead, he can see what’s truly deep within my heart. And as the sun shines warm rays upon me and as the wind whispers through the trees, I can lift my head high and close my eyes and feel his joyous heart whisper that he is so very proud of me; and my heart silently whispers back, that I too, am very proud of him.

San Gabriel Valley: The Grass Is Greener

BY MICHAEL ARMIJO

I read a question and answer column in a local newspaper years ago about Bob Pacheco and boy did it move me. So I picked up the phone that day, when he was our local Assemblyman, called his office in Sacramento, and asked him about his life. He was very open and candid and told me the truth about his life, in an effort to help my own. I thought my life was tough, I thought that I had a rough time. I thought I overcame a lot.

Bob spoke of his father who was a farm worker and didn’t speak any English. He mentioned how his mother was crippled and only had a second grade education. He recalled helping his father in the fields, and how poor his family was. And yet he managed to graduate from college and finish Law School.

I’ve been told to stay away from politics, stay away from mentioning political candidates or endorsing people. But I’m not speaking about Bob the politician; I’m speaking about Bob the human being.

I believe the toughest dreams in life are the ones that require treading new paths. The dreams that aren’t mapped out for you and that aren’t the natural environment. Bob Pacheco mentioned that when he was in junior college, he took an entrance exam and the counselor asked him what he wanted to do. He said he wanted to be an attorney. She suggested he should be a mechanic. And when I was sixteen, I was working for Sav-On. My father always spoke of security in income, security in employment, and hoped that I would someday become manager of Sav-On.

Sometimes we need to go against the grain, against the odds, against what others call ‘the norm’. If Bob and I had listened to others, I would be managing Sav-On and he would be fixing my car. But I didn’t want to be a manager; I wanted to own the place. I wanted to have enough comfort in my life so that I could follow my dreams of being a writer, touching lives and helping people. Bob wanted to become a lawyer. He wanted to be in a position where he could help people in deep need, inspiring disadvantaged children who do not believe they have the skills to be accomplishing in life.

Although it’s tough disregarding all that we’re told and going with your heart, I believe that sometimes it’s necessary. I believe that we should always listen to others advice but never abandon our dreams. When I was in seventh grade, I realized I wanted to become a writer and now, years later, I make my living as a writer. At 19, Bob Pacheco realized he wanted to be an attorney, and years later, he finished law school and passed the bar.

I look at myself now and I like who I’ve become. Friends of mine have taken other routes that brought them picket fences and fancy cars at a young age, while I went against the odds and followed my dreams. I look at Bob and I see someone who is always trying to help, who always offers a kind word and a warm heart, a man who also has ignored the easy route and chose to follow the hard road of a dreamer.

Many people say that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, and many times it is. That can be very distracting to the dreamers in life. So if the greener grass is distracting, and you truly want to follow your heart, then start watering your own yard, and stop looking at the other side of the fence.

By Michael Armijo

I read a question and answer column in a local newspaper years ago about Bob Pacheco and boy did it move me. So I picked up the phone that day, when he was our local Assemblyman, called his office in Sacramento, and asked him about his life. He was very open and candid and told me the truth about his life, in an effort to help my own. I thought my life was tough, I thought that I had a rough time. I though I overcame a lot.

Bob spoke of his father who was a farm worker and didn’t speak any English. He mentioned how his mother was crippled and only had a second grade education. He recalled helping his father in the fields, and how poor his family was. And yet he managed to graduate from college and finish Law School.

I’ve been told to stay away from politics, stay away from mentioning political candidates or endorsing people. But I’m not speaking about Bob the politician; I’m speaking about Bob the human being.

I believe the toughest dreams in life are the ones that require treading new paths. The dreams that aren’t mapped out for you and that aren’t the natural environment. Bob Pacheco mentioned that when he was in junior college, he took an entrance exam and the counselor asked him what he wanted to do. He said he wanted to be an attorney. She suggested he should be a mechanic. And when I was sixteen, I was working for Sav-On. My father always spoke of security in income, security in employment, and hoped that I would someday become manager of Sav-On.

Sometimes we need to go against the grain, against the odds, against what others call ‘the norm’. If Bob and I had listened to others, I would be managing Sav-On and he would be fixing my car. But I didn’t want to be a manager; I wanted to own the place. I wanted to have enough comfort in my life so that I could follow my dreams of being a writer, touching lives and helping people. Bob wanted to become a lawyer. He wanted to be in a position where he could help people in deep need, inspiring disadvantaged children who do not believe they have the skills to be accomplishing in life.

Although it’s tough disregarding all that we’re told and going with your heart, I believe that sometimes it’s necessary. I believe that we should always listen to others advice but never abandon our dreams. When I was in seventh grade, I realized I wanted to become a writer and now, years later, I make my living as a writer. At 19, Bob Pacheco realized he wanted to be an attorney, and years later, he finished law school and passed the bar.

I look at myself now and I like who I’ve become. Friends of mine have taken other routes that brought them picket fences and fancy cars at a young age, while I went against the odds and followed my dreams. I look at Bob and I see someone who is always trying to help, who always offers a kind word and a warm heart, a man who also has ignored the easy route and chose to follow the hard road of a dreamer.

Many people say that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, and many times it is. That can be very distracting to the dreamers in life. So if the greener grass is distracting, and you truly want to follow your heart, then start watering your own yard, and stop looking at the other side of the fence.

INLAND EMPIRE: Staring Into The Darkness…..

By Michael Armijo

  It was a strange day. I knew it when I woke at 3 a.m. I felt the pressure begin that early. And for the first time in my life the pressure was overwhelming. I stared into the mirror while the cold sweat dripped into the empty sink below. I gazed onward, veering at the tremendous bags under my eyes, and then I tried to rub the pain from my chest. The erratic beating of my heart confused and alarmed me, but I refused to let it be a warning.

As my day continued, the pressure seemed to build. The lectures, the threats, the bills, the worries, the irrational people with their idiotic responses. It just wouldn’t stop.

My emotions went from stress, to panic, to anger, to numbness.  Suddenly, everything that was important to me became irrelevant. All that I knew that was important was now a distant thought. A forgotten feeling. It was a weird sensation that made me fearless, something that showed me a path I had never seen. A road that was once fearful of travel was now a road that seemed appealing. This was now a time that I felt that nothing mattered. Nothing, no one, no thing. It was simply a time when I felt that there were no consequences. There was nothing to stop me from acting out any bizarre emotion, any outburst of feeling. I was at the end of my rope. It was as if I were gazing into a black hole. Although nothing was there, you couldn’t see a thing, something unforeseen was attracting my spirit. Something was pulling at my soul. I just couldn’t stop staring into the darkness.

It brought back the memory of my son’s friend who took his life one dark day years ago. After he pulled the trigger in front of his peers, and as he lay motionless on the campus pavement, the biggest question was unanswerable: “Why didn’t he say anything?” Others said, “Had I only known, I would’ve helped.”

Remembering that story was when I realized I knew what happens on a lonely and impassionate day.  It isn’t that when a person feels the bitter grueling emotion of desperation that no one is there to reach for them or that no one was listening. It’s at that point a distraught person will just never reach. It’s when a person gets to a point in their life that nothing matters. They just can’t reach out for anyone anymore. They’re done, and it’s just simply a time to move on.

The numbness the world has invoked on you makes you feel distant and hopeless. You can’t smile, you can’t cry. If you tried to scream, your mouth would open and nothing could come out. Your energy level is so low that the vocals from your throat just can’t conceive. You feel as though your entire life, as you know it, never mattered, never existed. You are now, subconsciously, preparing yourself for the next world.

It’s at that one instant when you feel that this life is no longer your own. You can only close your eyes and imagine how people feel when they decide to do something drastic, like pick up a heavy, handheld weapon, while feeling the cold circular steel press against their skull. They slowly close their tear-filled eyes while thinking of all those who loved them, and then they lightly squeeze.

Suddenly, all that you’ve accomplished within your life has been erased. The person you “are now” becomes the person “you were.” Everything that is “yours now” becomes everything you “left behind.” It goes from “he is” to “he was.” It’s at this time that you find out who really loved you, and you find out whose lives you’ve really impacted. People will cry uncontrollably, and others will be angry. Your loved ones will think about your actions, uncontrollably, for the rest of their own lives.

Unfortunately, you cannot erase what you’ve done. You can’t come back; you can’t erase the pain you’ve caused when you pulled that trigger. And the sad part is, for that one moment of desperation you experienced, so many lives were changed forever.

The next world? There are no guarantees that you won’t suffer for what you’ve done. So your passionate gamble could now be eternal. You could, quite possibly, pay eternally for what you did spontaneously and emotionally.

It’s at this time you realize that these consequences aren’t an option nor are they a question. They are simply a result of an emotion. These thoughts and these actions haunt those who can’t see the light. Those who can’t see the truth. They can’t see these things because their vision is clouded, their sight is constricted, because …. they’re constantly staring into the darkness…..

Our Life: Remembering To See The Beauty

our life haiti pic color

By Sarah Armijo

Last year, I went on a Missions Trip to Haiti with a team of about 12 people. This was the first time I had ever been out of the country and had ever been on a Missions Trip, so I decided to make it count by going to a 3rd World Country.

If someone mentions Haiti, some think of the earthquake that happened in 2010, some think of poverty, some think of diseases, and some think of the corrupted government. Even though all of this is true about Haiti, now that I have been there, these aspects are not the first things that come to my mind. When I think of Haiti, I think of the beautiful mountains that surround the villages. I think of the clear blue water of the Caribbean Sea that some of my teammates were fortunate enough to get baptized in. I think of the fields of delicious crops that the Haitians grew themselves in order to survive. I think of the Haitian people in the villages waving at us and saying “Bonswa” (meaning hello in Creole) as you walk through the villages. I think of the smiling children who ran after our car just to get a glimpse of an American, as if we were famous.

When I think of Haiti, I can’t help but to think of the beauty of the country, mainly because of how welcoming the people were. We were strangers to these people. They didn’t know what we were doing there or what we were even saying, but they welcomed us into their homes, they let us hold their children, they let us pray with them, they smiled at us as we walked by, and they said hi to us as if we were another Haitian in their everyday lives. Even the Haitians (both children and adults) who could speak a little bit of English would try so hard to just have a simple “Hi, how are you?” or “What’s your name?” conversation with us…those small talk conversations we all dread in the United States.

You see, Haiti IS filled with poverty. It is filled with houses that are made of tree branches and tarps. It is filled with people who barely have food, clothes, and water. It is filled with people who shower once a week in a river in the middle of the day. It is filled with people who walk miles just to get a jug of water for their families. It is filled with people who rely on the sun to know what time it is or when it’s time to go to sleep, because they don’t have electricity. And it is filled with thousands of children who don’t have parents or families.

Knowing this, the first thing that probably comes to our minds is: how sad. How sad it is to live in this kind of environment. How sad it must be to have a child run up to you and hold your hand as you are walking through the village, just because they are seeking for affection. How sad that children are running around without clothes or diapers on, because their parents can’t afford it. How sad that some of the people survive on a meal of rice once a day. How sad.

But you see, despite all this, I think the real statement is how sad we are. How sad it is that we have so much in our lives, have so much food, shelter, clothes, family, water… and we take it all for granted. We waste it. And worse, we strive for more.

The Haitians are the complete opposite. They are praising God every second of every day for the little they have. They are appreciating every second of life and every scrap of food they can provide for themselves and for their families. They even appreciate something as simple as a picture we printed out for them, because they had never even seen their own face, let alone have ever had a picture of themselves.

There are so many little things we take advantage of because we tend to forget how fortunate we really are. So my challenge to you is to start noticing the beauty in your lives, and to appreciate everything you have. Start appreciating your family, friends, food, water, electricity, clothes, jobs, and for the amazing country we live in. Because as one of my teammates brought to our attention while we were in Haiti: we didn’t earn this lifestyle. Almost all of us didn’t work hard to be here in America. We were just born into a fortunate country, while others around the world were born into poverty. There was no difference or special task we did to be here. But as our team leader said, with that great fortune is a responsibility. We have a responsibility to appreciate every little thing we have, and a responsibility to help the ones that don’t have much.

I hope you will take the challenge to start appreciating the wonderful country we are fortunate to live in. I hope you will take the time to tell your loved ones how much you are thankful to have them. I hope you will stop striving for more, and start giving more instead. And I hope you will always remember to see the beauty in everything.

Diamond Bar: Lessons For Life

Pastor Mark Hopper Diamond Bar

Pastor Mark Hopper

BY MARK HOPPER

We are continuing to study the Old Testament book of Ezra on Sunday mornings at our church. I noticed several practical lessons in chapter four that seem to easily apply to our lives today.
You may be in business or education. You may be married or single. You may be a politician or a business professional. It seems like these principles can apply to almost anyone of any age.
First, don’t compromise your values and convictions. In this fourth chapter of Ezra, the Jewish people faced an important decision. Will they compromise their convictions or stick to their core values?
How often have we warned our teenagers to not go with the crowd or give in to peer pressure? How often have you faced a difficult decision in your business or personal life that may involve compromising your convictions?
If you compromise, you may regret it later. If you stick to your core values, you will rarely regret it.
Second, expect opposition and criticism. In Ezra chapter four, the Jewish people declined the offer from others to help with the re-building of their Temple. Immediately, these friends turned into foes. They tried to hinder and stop the progress on the new Temple.
When you try to stick to your values and not compromise, you should expect to be criticized. Some people won’t understand why you won’t go along with the crowd. Business associates may question your loyalty to the company when you refuse to follow the new policy that you feel goes against your values.
Third, expect delays and difficulties. When you stick to your core values, you may face a bumpy road ahead. In Ezra chapter four, those who opposed their effort hired lobbyists and lawyers to try to stop their progress.
Often we hear in the news today of groups that oppose a new freeway, new housing development or new shopping center. They will hire lawyers and experts to prevent a new project from being completed.
Certainly we need to study and evaluate how a new freeway or housing development will impact those who live nearby. But even after permission is granted, some will continue to try to delay its completion.

When you try to stick to your convictions and when you are not willing to compromise your core values, expect difficulties and delays along the way. You may not get a promotion in your company or you may not get the recognition you deserve in your school.

But, when you stick to your convictions and when you refuse to compromise your core values, you will sleep better at night. You will enjoy a sense of peace. I think you will be glad you did!

Pastor Mark Hopper
Evangelical Free Church of Diamond Bar
3255 South Diamond Bar Blvd
(909) 594-7604
Sunday Services: 9 a.m. & 10:45 a.m.
Website: http://www.efreedb.org

Eastvale: I Remember Getting Hit…

By MICHAEL ARMIJO

I remember getting hit when I was growing up.  And when I shared this with other friends of mine, I found out that a lot of the other kids felt the same way.  It seemed as thought it was kind of the late 60’s and early 70’s parental thing.  Fortunately, the physical scars always healed. When you were hit, it ended right there.  It was over, the beating stopped, and the pain soon went away.  The only fear you had was ‘next time,’ so you did your best to stay out of the way.  But something else happened that was far worse than being hit, stronger and more painful that a cracked rib or a black eye. Something that stays with a person, sometimes forever.

I remember one of my biggest problems in life had been that I never really felt equal.  Equality to peers and friends at an early age is a big issue, and an important one.  Competition is good when you have confidence, when you felt you had a chance to win.  But I had always felt I wasn’t smart enough, although I received good grades.  I felt I wasn’t good enough, although I always improved.  When I had that first sense of “I can’t do it,” I just gave up and quit.  I just walked away and said “forget it.”  I felt that I was never going to win anyway, so why keep on trying?  And now I know why I quit. I just felt unequal, I just felt different than everyone else.

I can’t say when or where it exactly began, probably because I didn’t realize what happened until later in life.  But I believe that I felt so different because of what I was told. What was verbally given to me.  I wasn’t told how special I was, or how great I was.  I was never told “good job” or “I’m proud of you.”  I was constantly reminded of how stupid I was.  I was always told that I was a dummy.  That I was worthless, I was an idiot, or how I wouldn’t amount to anything.

I guess the leaders in my life at that time didn’t realize the power of words. That the power of what you say has an impact on children.  When you constantly feed something to someone, regardless if it’s true or not, it someday becomes the truth in a child’s mind.  And children can subconsciously hold onto this perception of themselves for years.  Constantly replaying those little tapes of how worthless they are and how they just aren’t like the rest of the kids. Children trust adults with their hearts. Adults need to understand that when you’ve had a bad day at the office or if you’re angry with yourself or with your own life, demoralizing a child doesn’t make your position any better. Each day I would struggle to be “normal,” all because of the carelessness within the leadership of my life.

As I look back, I remember I used to blame myself. I now know that what I had been told as a child wasn’t my fault. I know that those harsh words weren’t at all true. Unfortunately, I know that now.  I lost so many years, both in my youth and in my adult life, because I believed those people.  I believed them.  There were times when I wanted to go back to my childhood and reclaim my innocence, my right to a decent and structural life, and I was told that I never could.  But I did what I felt was the next best thing.  I closed my eyes and walked those long, horrifying steps within my mind and told every one of those people that they were wrong.  I mentally went back and told them THEY were the stupid ones for daring to damage a little kid, for attempting to take great memories and fun times away from a small defenseless little boy.  A boy who had dreams and aspirations to just have fun and live like the humans.  And then I did something else, I became successful.  Not rich and famous, but productive and worthy.  I help people, I encourage others. I made a difference. I spread my gospel that life really does contain happy endings and wish-like scenarios. I let people know that they deserve a good life, and a loving family. My mission was clear that the world needed to know the real truth behind people’s dysfunctions. I assured the damaged at heart that what had happened to them wasn’t their fault.  I used all that energy that negativity gave to me and I used it to fuel my passion to make a difference.  I give people a chance; I encourage them to just go do it.  The only limits there are in life are the limits you place upon yourself. I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll preach it a thousand more.

With this philosophy, I’ve realized that consistent negativity can impact a life, so I’ve done the same, but with positive input. When I think of my daughter and how bright and intelligent she is, and then I look at my son and realize how creative and articulate he is, I wonder: are these kids really that bright because of their intelligence and education, or are they that smart because we told them they are?  An encouraged child’s drive and ambition are faster than a speeding bullet (and more powerful than a locomotive).

So I have to preach: Be careful what you say to a child.  Think about what they’ve seen and heard.  They’ve been on this planet for a short time; they don’t know what you know.  They haven’t been through the aggravation and the turmoil you’ve experienced.  They haven’t seen the traffic on the 60 freeway or stood in line at the DMV.  They haven’t dropped to the ground in exhaustion or felt the pressure of financial strain.  And when they hear of these things, they think you can handle it all.  They may not say it, but they look up to you, they respect you, and they believe you.  Encourage them and be patient. Don’t let your own frustrations take years from their lives.

Yes, I remember getting hit as a child. And I remember the feeling that came with it. But with these experiences I’ve also been able to learn: you can get more from a person by raising their spirits, than you can by lowering their dignity.

 

Inland Empire: Is Anything Really Forever?

Is Anything Really Forever?
BY MICHAEL ARMIJO

Originally published in August of 1998, this is the very first “Our Life” ever printed in The Weekly News, and the reason why we started publishing newspapers. It was after writing this story that we decided how short life was, and how important it is to do what you believe in. This story helped us realize what we believe in.
The hardest day of my life was a year ago in May. It was like every other morning with the exception that it was their anniversary. Mom and dad got up, went to brunch, went home, and then got into a little argument. My dad wanted somewhere to go to be by himself, so he went to check on his rental property that was recently vacant.
I got home that night around 9 p.m. and my wife told me my mother called. She said mom was wondering why dad wasn’t home yet, but it was like him to stay at his rental property and fix things. Mom wasn’t too worried, so I went to bed. A few hours later she called me again; “Your father still isn’t home yet, now I’m worried.” At a frantic pace, I went to his rental property and found his truck in the front of the house, which was completely dark. My heart raced and I was afraid to go in and find him lying there, so I called 911 from my cell phone.
LIFE MAKES A LEFT
I told the operator that I was afraid to enter the house by myself, I was afraid of what I might find. Four minutes later, the Sheriff’s Department arrived. The officer shined his flashlight on the front door and, since it was pitch dark, I didn’t even know it was wide open. We walked inside and there was my daddy, lying in the hallway, as still as can be. I yelled, “He isn’t moving? Why isn’t he moving?” The officer grabbed me and dragged me outside, calmed me down, and told me to wait while he checked what on was going on.
At that point, I tried to convince myself he was asleep on the floor or just passed out. I was in complete denial that he would be gone – and gone forever – until the paramedics came. They ran into the house in the hopes of helping a victim survive, but three minutes later, they walked out. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew one thing, I had to try to be responsible, I had to go home and tell my mom.
YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT
When I told my brother and sisters the news of our father, I received a different reaction from each. But the strongest reaction embedded in my memory is the one from my mom. I called my sisters to help me tell mom about dad, but they lived so far away they couldn’t be there for quite some time. I knew I couldn’t let my mom wait that long, she was waiting for me to bring my father home. I knocked on my neighbor’s front door, but they couldn’t hear me from their back bedroom. It was at that time I realized that no one was around and I’m going to have to do this on my own, so be it.
It wasn’t the screaming or the crying that affected me so much; it was what my mother said. She was angry because she and my father had promised each other they’d leave this earth together. They made a pact. They had a deal. She was angry because he broke that pact. The deal was off. At that point, I admired how strong their love was; I admired how much they really loved each other. So much so, they not only discussed how they’d be together, but how they’d leave together as well. I never knew this, and it saddens me that I had to find out about it this way. I guess sometimes regardless of what this life gives you, and regardless of how much you think you know, you find out that you never know what to expect.
A FIRST FOR EVERYTHING
Whoever said, “the hardest time after a death is the first year” was right. It has been interesting and difficult. Death really does something to people; it really makes them change. You hear things you never thought you’d hear; you see things you never thought you’d see. That first Thanksgiving, that first Christmas. The first time one of your parents isn’t at your son’s sixth grade graduation or your daughter’s recital. Your kid’s birthday parties, your son’s little league games. You sit there enjoying yourself and then sense that something’s missing. The first time I felt stressed and dad wasn’t there to tell me; “it’ll all work out ok,” that was my hardest. Dad wasn’t kidding when he told me: “there’s a first for everything.”
YOU NEVER KNOW
If there was one thing I’ve really had to push into my life it is to enjoy it. If one of my children gets out of line or has done something wrong, I talk about it. I don’t scream and yell, and I don’t smack them. I never send them to bed on a bad note, and whenever I leave, I always give them a hug and a kiss (something my 12-year-old son tries to avoid, but I force it on him). I do this because my father and I had the worst relationship in the world. And then one day, five years before he passed, for a reason only God may know, I confronted him with my feelings. We really opened up, laid it all on the table, and enjoyed ourselves. It took time for us to heal, but we worked on it, and in the end I had the fortunate opportunity to have a close and loving relationship with my dad. It was the fastest five years of my life.
We had fun, forgave each other, and told each other we loved each other. I am very fortunate to be able to say that I don’t have any regrets about our friendship. I always wanted more from life but he always told me to “stop striving for bigger toys and invest yourself in love, because you never know, son, you just never know.”
SOME THINGS ARE FOREVER
There’s something about seeing your parents in enormous grief that does something to a person. They’re your safety net in life, they’re the one thing you can bet your life on who’ll always take you back if you failed out there in the world. They’re the ones that you knew would love you forever, regardless of what you’ve done or where you’ve been. When that gets destroyed or damaged, you come to the realization that you’re definitely, and I mean definitely, on your own. Life becomes this big “do or die” situation. Ready or not, it’s time to grow up. You get kind of nervous that the encouraging source in your life is gone. The one who always said, “You can do it, you can do anything,” can only be heard from a distant memory.
It’s kind of like when you were in school; you’d walk into the class and find you were having a pop quiz. You felt this panic overwhelm you, and you’d try your hardest to remember what the teacher told you the day before. You had no warning, no time to prepare, the test is here and it’s now. You never anticipated this coming; it never even entered your mind. All you can do now is hope you were paying attention all that time, all you could do was hope you were a good student. Teacher’s not going to give you any answers today; you’re on your own.
And then someday, when life tests you and you see that big “A” across the top of that “life test,” you realize that what makes you a better person is to recognize that there are some things in life that you just have to believe in. Like the love you never knew your parents shared, some things really are forever.