It Is Fathers Day

The cliche definition of this day is "it is one in which we honor and remember our fathers"

The assumption could be derived that it is actually possible to "bring up a memory" of our fathers

In many ways, it is impossible for it to be a "memory" when the imprint of our fathers are. in many ways. the essence of who we are

When I was four years old, one of my regular excursions with my father would include rides in his company truck to the Florida phosphate pits

As he put his "Ben Johnson" hardhat on my head, his words are just as vivid now as they were then "Watch Everything I do"

When I was well into my young adult "college" years, my Dad was horribly "scammed" by a woman through the church who was claiming she needed money due to having "cancer"

After giving a significant amount of funds all under "fictitious" means, Id say "Dad,

people will cheat, lie etc....You have to quit...etc...etc...

In his humble graciousness, my Dad said "Well, I guess she really needed it"

"Watch Everything I do"

As I sat by my fathers hospital bed over ten years ago and watched him ascend to his father in heaven

At 94 years old as a WW II Warrior, World Traveler, husband to my mom of 55 years, father to my brother and I, Humble servant, Friend to all, Engineer, Consultant well into his 80's, my father told me once more...

"Watch Everything I do"

Our fathers are embedded into every fibre of who we are

The good, the "ugly", the laughs, the stories, the planted "seeds"

We take all of it in our souls, take "root" in the irreplaceable love given

And plant it once more in our own and in everyone we meet

And in everything we do

Simply, because we watched

"Watch Everything I do"

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The "Unthinkable" has happened...once again

Another mass school shooting committed by an extremely misguided, full of rage 18 year old who lost his sense of "feeling" and his heart for humanity. It would seem that he was obviously indoctrinated from forces that convinced him that he had the right to murder our most precious commodity..our children. As a result, 19 beautiful innocent children and 2 school teachers were barricaded in the classroom told it was "time to die" and gunned down without mercy. The lives of these families and the small town community of Uvalde, Texas has been irrevocably altered permanently. It also took literally moments for the political bandwagon and human personal agendas to rear their ugly head as the speculation surfaced as to "cause". Was it the lack of Gun Control ? Mental Illness? Social Media especially the "Dark" areas? COVID fallout? A Broken System? A failed "loner" who felt it was "okay" to take his rage out on the innocent"? Loneliness? Bullying? My heart is heavy as I have looked into the eyes of those impacted from horror countless times only to try to reassure "you will get through this". Dear God, Not Again. We search for meaning in meaninglessness and sense in senselessness. Our greatest fear has now become reality...our vulnerability, our childrens vulnerability and the generations to come. The answer as to "why" is extremely complex and usually involves a myriad of risk factors and "signs"..and it is evident that there were plenty. The old cliche SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING is pretty important and yet we do not because of our greatest malady...Fear. Tomorrow, I will go on WLTX and give tips to parents on how to help their kids. Additionally, I am focused on how to help those impacted families as they deserve much more than an "I am sorry" or "you will get through this". As for any of us, that shooter was not born with that level of was developed. Maybe that is where we can start and the only lasting change will happen from an altering of one's soul and heart and that involves all of us

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I am perplexed that we characterize one annual day to honor our "Mothers". This will be the first Mother's Day since my adoptive mom , Shirley, left this temporary walk. People have already started saying" I know it will be hard, you will be sad etc... The moments will come, however, my focus is more on cherishing all the hours, minutes and years I was able to share with her. "Mothers", and those who earn the right to that title, can take many forms. Our "Mother" can be the one who adopted us and helped shape our life, the birth one who gave us life, the foster one who gave us foundation, the kind teacher who just "was there", the really nice lady who "just believed in us" or just the sibling/friend who unselfishly cared. The redeeming part of all of the gifts that our 'Mothers" gave us remain. Regardless of anything this life can throw at us including death, those gifts remain intact in our souls with our feet planted firmly bestowed by the seeds which have now rooted. We received them through the gift of knowing our mothers and now plant them in our own.

Shortly after my son was born, I jokingly said "I feel like the Orangutang mom off the Discovery Channel". I do not consider myself violent, however, the instinct to claw anyone or anything that might cause harm to "my" child was pretty strong. In all honesty, it still is. That helps me appreciate more the utter devastation for those "Mothers " who have lost a "child" or "children". That loss is truly the inconsolable wound and those "Mothers", with whom I have had the honor to walk with, are some of the toughest, most soul wrenching humans on the planet. Motherhood is the most primal of emotions and we truly are a part of our 'moms" at a cellular level whether they biologically gave birth to us or not. We continue this in our own and the cycle continues..and vice versa.

As we approach "Mothers Day", my intent is writing this post is to give another perspective on the grieving aspect. Yes, use all of those loving ways that are so wonderful to honor that "Mom"

Let us remember though that the seeds have been planted, the roots have been fertilized and it is now one of our "reasons for being here" to carry on the story and act as farmers toiling the soil and planting the seeds in our own manner, timing and circumstances.

What an incredible gift....

Happy Mothers Day

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