Tag: Boy Child

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Forty Isn’t Old, If You’re A Tree

Jesus I’m old. This is not some new phenomenon btw, but today, it got reinforced in an unforgiving way. Today, my second child hit 40 years old.

Sigh.

I’m not even going to ask how it happened, I mean, duh, right? But there are questions in there. How did this cheesy little tow-head

get so old so fast? That picture feels like it was about two years ago. It also provides further documentation that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, since closer inspection reveals he is holding a chocolate cupcake. He’s also already got a well developed, if subtle, “Really Dad?” look on his face. Although I must say, I never got too many of those from him over the years. Unlike a certain unnamed sibling.

As I thought about what I wanted to say to mark today, I knew I had to include one of my fondest memories of his childhood. The day I was convinced he was going to play in the big leagues. He was a toddler, probably between 16-19 months old. We were all out in the front yard, doing I have no clue what. But he had his new, plastic bat in his hand. I was sitting on the front step of the house and he was eight or ten feet in front of me. I grabbed the plastic wiffle ball that came with his bat and tossed it to him. First time ever. So, obviously this was the first time he’d ever swung a bat at a “pitched” ball. He lined the ball off my chest. I mean like “THWACKTHUMP” quick. And that rocket shot was produced by the sweetest little, natural, left-handed swing. Now, this may not seem like anything to many, maybe most of you. But at this, still early stage of parentdom, I was convinced this kid was going to be a professional ballplayer.

Of course, he didn’t become a ballplayer. It’s safe to say the gene card deck was stacked against him. But, too, I don’t believe that was ever his passion. You don’t throw yourself into something you’re not passionate about. You don’t try to change the way things are if you’re not passionate about why the change is needed. You don’t take up the fight that benefits others more than yourself (since your ship has already sailed) without passion.

The 39th year was not an easy one for my son. He’s faced, and continues to face, a challenge that has bested many. And he keeps moving forward. Coming from a crisis state, which he was in last spring, to today, is nothing short of remarkable to me. The transparency, the openness of what he’s gone and is going through is inspiring to me. The fact that he chose to continue addressing his struggles with PTSD through the passion of his service to others is, to me, far more impressive than if he had, in fact, played major league baseball. Conceiving of Run For Our Lives to raise awareness of the very real problem of firefighter suicide, something A.) we weren’t even aware was a problem as recently as five years ago and B.) raising money for an organization, Illinois Firefighter Peer Support, (ILFFPS) that provided help for Ryan and Danielle on the day they realized he couldn’t go on, speaks to me about the type of man he has always been.

And it will always make me think about the day I got a text from Danielle that read, simply, “You have a minute”

The day he almost became a statistic.

The day he took his first step towards light.

So, at this point, I’m going to ask you to, if you haven’t already, click on this link and register to be a part of the Run For Our Lives virtual run. It’s pretty painless, mainly since you don’t need to run or walk all 130 kilometers on one day, like Ryan will. The virtual run opens February 1st and must be concluded by May 30th. The math is a little over a half mile every day between those two dates. The fee is $130 and of that amount $100 will go to ILFFPS, an organization funded totally by donations, so that they can continue to provide essential resources to firefighters, and their families, that find themselves in a crisis state. If you’ve already registered, invite a friend to do it with you. If you’re in a position to make a corporate type sponsorship, contact me and I’ll get you in touch with the right people. Before I give up this particular pulpit, let me also add a phone number or two; 855-90-SUPPORT if you or a first responder you know is at or nearing crisis. 800-273-8255 is the number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline for anyone that may be in need.

Lastly, I think, I want to thank everyone that has registered so far. You’re helping to make a difference in the lives of people you’ll liklely never meet and that’s no small thing.

Ok, I lied, I’ve got one last thing… I just want to wish this guy a Happy 40th!!!

I know you’re a fan of naps, but I hope as you settle into this new decade on the planet, you find true value in their recuperative powers. Even if you no longer get to share them with Tobi the Jack Russell terrorist (not a typo). Have a great day Ryan, I’ll talk to you tonight. I love you.

Peace.

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Keep Moving Forward

So, for this post, I’m doing very little of the writing. Allow me to explain. A couple hours ago, I got a text from my son, asking me to proofread something before he posted it to his social media accounts. I did, and after making a couple minor suggestions, asked him if I could put it up here. He graciously agreed. I’m not gonna lie, once I took off the proofreader hat and put on the Dad hat, I cried as I read it. It’s very powerful and in addition to illuminating the ongoing struggles he and his immediate family face down, it’s a sobering reminder of how close we came to losing him.

And not even knowing he was in pain.

That’s it for me, for now. I’ll probably put a little bit at the end. But the rest of what you read will be his words…

This is going to be a bit of a long and personal post. I pre-apologize for that. I don’t usually read them myself so I can understand if you keep scrolling. But if you’ve stayed this long maybe you’ll read a little further.                                                           

This is what PTSD and anxiety looks like for me today. I’m not having a particularly great morning. I had a triggering (I hate the buzzwords, but I don’t know how else to label it) day yesterday. Some work related, some not. I was on edge most of the day yesterday. I felt depressed. I tried to work through it. I tossed and turned most of the night. I came home from work this morning thinking that I was fine. But I wasn’t. I promptly snapped at Danielle when she asked me a simple question. I didn’t even realize I had done it until I noticed her change in demeanor. Then I could feel it coming back in the pit of my stomach. That awful feeling of guilt, shame, self doubt.

“Why did you snap at her?”

“What’s your problem”

“Pull your shit together”. 

After I took the kids to daycare I laid in bed for an hour and felt bad for myself. I really beat myself up about it. I tried to talk to Danielle about it but she was at work already and wasn’t really in a place where she could have that kind of cPonversation. So there I laid. Catastrophizing. 

I started to run. I hated every step. I ran too hard at the start and bonked a few miles in. So I took a lot of walk breaks. So many walk breaks. But I just kept moving forward. I wanted to quit so much. I started breaking it down into more digestible segments. “Run to that fire hydrant and then walk for 5 seconds” I did that over the last 4 miles. It sucked. But I eventually finished. My first long run training up for what will culminate in my longest run ever. Next spring. 

Today was my first long run as a part of my training plan. I didn’t want to do it. The thought of getting out of bed was too much. So I laid there some more. Then through a series of thoughts I remembered the fundraiser I’m working on (more on that shortly) I couldn’t give in to my feelings. I had to get up. So I did. 

Late spring of 2020 I am going to run a kilometer for every firefighter that commits suicide in 2019. As of this moment that number is north of 60. It’s been over 100 for the last several years. I almost contributed to that number. I’m doing this run to raise money for Illinois Fire Fighter Peer Support. The organization that helped me get to a place where I could get the help that I needed. I will be getting a link to donate directly to them. I’m not sure how successful this fundraiser will be. But I’m going to try to make it big. It needs to be big. People need to know there’s help. 

As a part of the build up to this event, and the run itself, Danielle is going to be documenting my story and my struggles. She’s a phenomenal storyteller & I think with her help we can really make a difference in people’s lives. 

If you made it all the way through, thank you. And stay tuned for details on next springs fundraiser.

There you have it. I’m so proud of the transparency he’s willing to show, baring his soul on the page like this. I can’t think of a better way to remove the stigma than to get this out in the open so people in need are more willing to talk about it without feeling they’re showing weakness. As I said, I’ll publicize the shit out of his efforts, and this is the first of what I hope will be many reminders.

One last thing, and this holds true with anything I post here, if you feel so inclined, please share the post. Hopefully someone that may need to see the message my son is sharing, will see it that way.

Peace