That would prove to be particularly prescient. Recently, my mother-in-law took ill. She is currently in a facility receiving care she truly needs. She is, for the most part, healthy and will probably continue to be healthy for some time to come. She will require special care for a while, and even when she is ready to return home, she will likely be unable to care for herself without some assistance.

My father-in-law is as healthy as he has been for some time. At least, as far as his body goes. His heart is ailing. He has lived with the same woman for over 60 years, and now she’s out of the house. He could live alone, but the house is so… empty. He has never really cooked for himself. He is not so big on laundry. He comes from a generation where gender roles are very strictly defined. Sure, he can fix things that are broken, but that’s not enough.

Having a mate changes the way you live your life. You get used to it, after a while. When you live alone, who will steal the section of the paper you were reading? Who leaves the seat up/down on the toilet? Who will leave the dishes in the sink? The empty ice trays on the counter? The nearly empty gas tank? The box with 2 crackers left? Sure, sometimes we get aggravated by these little foibles and peculiarities, but after creating a rhythm or routine that incorporates them, their sudden removal leaves you tripping over yourself. At a time of stress, you feel those losses quite dearly.

When we were young and still searching for that ’someone’ we filled those empty moments. We filled the emptiness with the search itself. Once you’ve found that someone, the search is over, and you can’t pick it up again. When we were young, we filled the emptiness with drink. Now we’re too old for that. When we were young, we filled the emptiness with friends. At a certain age, you have few (if any) friends left.

You have family.

And so, we find ourselves, for a time at least, as an extended family. New members. New challenges. New arrangements. New schedules. Life moves quickly. Gotta keep up.

Of course, the day before he leaves, something tragic happens in his family, and he ends up visiting with a grandparent, perhaps for the last time. This trauma affects him deeply, but he stands tall and tries to ignore the possibilities while trying to enjoy himself on the trip. The trip goes off as scheduled, and when he returns (after 3 days out of cellular range) he gets to see his grandparent, who has managed to not only survive, but to thrive.

Then he packs and plans for an international trip. We equipped him with an international calling card. We gave him an international cellular phone. He visited again with his ailing grandparent, who will likely still be here upon his return, but will almost certainly not be home any time soon. Again, he was upbeat, even though he knows that when he returns, we’ll have one more in the house. He agrees it would be wrong to leave one in a house alone while the other is in a rehab facility. And so, when he returns, we will no longer be nuclear, but extended.

Off he goes, landing uneventfully in Paris. Checking in at the hostel, he begins his international adventure with enthusiasm and joy. After a few days, he leaves the hostel to head home. Not home to us, but a temporary home with the student he hosted in November. For us as parents, a much more comforting time. What could be better than having him stay with a family? We had hosted their child, we imagined a quid pro quo would allow him to be protected and comfortable.

Who could predict that we’d have trouble figuring out how to text message from abroad? Who would have predicted we’d have to try a variety of ways to call from his cellular to mine? Who would expect a tragedy in their household? Who could predict that the family would be devastated in a way that would make it impossible for them to continue to host him? Who would know that he would be thrust into a circumstance which would be nearly impossible to manage in English, with a family you know well? How can he possibly be expected to manage it in French, with a family he barely knows, on their worst day ever?

I consider myself to be an outstanding planner, but some things you just can’t be expected to predict. Be safe and well, Skippy. Hugs are waiting for you at home.

Individuals with children face these questions: Should I be more or less involved in the lives of my children? Should I choose for them, or let them choose? Should I steer them away from all risks, or let them discover the world for what it really is and has become? Should I keep my ’safe’ job, or take a risk that could put my family in financial jeopardy?

If you are in a marriage or relationship, you face different, but similarly important questions. Is this the person for me? Do I want to spend the rest of my life in this relationship? Is my partner happy? Am I doing all I can to make this relationship happy, successful, and sustainable? Will we be better off if I subjugate myself to him/her right now? Are we healthy together? Are we better apart?

As individuals, we must answer the more basic questions. Am I happy? Can I be a better person? Should I be more charitable? Is it time to sit down and take it, or stand up and fight? What are my goals, my visions, my dreams? Can I attain them? Is what is good for me in keeping with the greater good? Does that matter to me? Take a good look at these questions, because they are cumulative. We all answer the basic questions. Those of us married and with children must answer them all.

But I’ve left out the most basic, most essential question of all. It’s not “How shall I live?” buy “Shall I live?” if you believe that life requires an energy, a force of will, than this becomes a critical question. But why, WHY would someone answer no? Certainly we’ve seen those who, in a fit of loneliness, pain, or alienation have thought living was no longer valuable. What of the father, who for years has supported his family, who now cannot do so? Perhaps he’s discovered he’s worth more fiscally dead than alive. Maybe he simply cannot watch as his family struggles to stay alive. Maybe the guilt (justified or not) he feels in his failures weighs too heavily on his soul. These days, many individuals must be in this mindset. I’ve felt their pain. All I can say for them is that no family is better off in their absence. No amount of money would ever replace a loving parent, or assuage the pain and guilt stemming from their absence.

What of those who are older? If life requires an energy force, how long can any of us sustain it? Have you 50 years in you? 65? 80? 90? There are days where I wonder how I will find a forty fourth. If you reach 80 years, haveyou worked hard enough? Could you hang on to be with your mate. Hopefully your children are settled and no longer need your care. If you’ve taught them everything they need to know, can you give up without guilt?

As I sit with my mother-in-law, I consider the gifts I have, the gifts she’s given me, and the life force she’s carried for so long. Clearly I haven’t been paying attention during the lesson. I can’t answer the Essential Question.

Jason Mesnick is likely the weepiest bachelor ever. He sloshed through the final episode, tearing up at least a dozen times, raising the question: When is it OK for men to cry? Mesnick’s crying has endeared him to some viewers but painted him as a target of insult for others. “I thought it was sweet to see a guy cry for a change and any girl would be lucky to have him,” one “Good Morning America” viewer commented at ABCNews.com. “I like a sensitive guy as much as the next woman, but unless someone just died or you have just cut off one of your limbs, cut out the waterworks,” another wrote.

There are differing opinions about crying. When we grow up as kids, we are convinced that we should not cry. If you cry, you show weakness. People will take advantage of you. You’ll get picked on. No one will be your friend. Girls want tough guys, not babies. You’re a wimp. You’re a chick. You’re gay.

I would have thought, as adults, we’d be over that discussion. Turns out that we’re not past it yet. Many folks still think men crying is weak, wimpy, bad. I find it hard to believe that adults would still cling to these stereotypes, but then I find it hard to believe that people would be against gay marriage, gun control, and birth control.

I’m not the best person to judge on this topic, because I’m biased. Disclaimer: I cry. A lot. At stuff you might find weird. Here’s just a short list- I’ve cried:

• at movies like Last Chance Harvey, Chocolat, or Our Friend Martin;
• at TV shows like Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and The Closer
• when Mimi died in La Boheme;
• when my grandfather passed away;
• when a former student took his own life;
• when my children were born;
• when the children sang or played in concerts;
• when my classes sang well in concerts;
• when my children did something outstanding, like take care of their Dad when he gets a concussion;
• when my wife told me she was proud of me.

Sure, some of these things might seem frivolous and silly. Why should I cry over something inane like a television show? Sure, the death of a relative is a significant event, but someone getting a new house on TV has nothing to do with me. What’s the big deal? 

One thing is certain: crying is an indicator of who you are and how you relate to others. If you can put yourself in someone elses shoes, it is the beginning of an understanding and a relationship. If you can empathize with them, you have built a bridge. You can walk a mile in their shoes and understand who they are at their core. Being able to cry does not make you a wimp. Being able to cry makes you a special man. Being able to cry makes you a caring, loving person.

It would be easy for us “criers” to demean or deride the “non-criers” as tough guys. Meatheads. Macho slobs. Non-criers must be misogynist, chauvinist pigs who do not value women or care about their children. “Non-criers” are must be unemotional douches. I know that’s not true. Not being able to cry does not make you less empathetic. You can still be caring and loving without the tears. You’re not a douche if you don’t cry.

However, you ARE a douche if you dump your new fiance on television though. That much I know.

Me and Wanda

Background: My children and I ski. We love it. It started as something I had always wanted to do. I was 35, Skippy was 7. My Dad bought Skippy and I ski passes to Elk Mountain PA as Christmas Gifts. We took a lesson, and fell in love. Not only did the sport itself engage us, but the time we spent together on the lift was a welcome chance to bond.

Wanda started skiing a few years back. After a few failed attempts, I got her on a Magic Carpet, on the right hill, and success! She loves the sport as well, including the quality time with Dad.

I truly hit my stride when I completed a lesson in Vermont a few years back. I was at a plateau in my learning, and the instructor got me over the hump. Since then, I believe I’ve become fairly accomplished. Oh, I’m not skiing moguls or gates, but I can ski some pretty tough hills. Left to my own devices, I have some great runs. BUT NOT SO YESTERDAY!

Location: Hunter Mountain

Personnel: Three adults, 3 teenage boys, two ‘tween girls and a ‘tween boy.

Events- Wednesday, February 18, 2009

• 6:30am- departure (ETA 8:30am) Breakfast on the road.
• 8:00am- Vehicle 2 (Honda Odyssey Van, driven by me) 10 miles from destination. Enters “S” turn. Roadway treated with anti-icing chemicals. Vehicle loses control, spins 180 degrees, lands in snowbank. Wanda and I (only passengers) uninjured, van undamaged.
• 8:02am- Trip continues.
• 8:30am- All vehicles arrive at Hunter Mountain.
• 10:00am- Passes purchased, equipment rented, personal items stowed, all skiers on ski hill.
• 10:45am- After 4 runs on bunny hill, Wanda and I move to beginner hill.
• 11:00am- After first run on beginner hill, Wanda and I spot inexperienced young boy. When quized, Wanda correctly asserts that boy is in trouble, trying to engage skis while pointed downhill. Wanda suggests we offer advice. I poo-poo the idea.
• 11:01am- I reconsider and offer aforementioned advice.

Note: the following information is based on reports from bystanders and family members. Times are speculative.

• 11:02am- Poorly trained and inexperienced young boy (see 11:00am) skis downhill out of control.
• 11:03am- Young boy strikes me from behind. I fall down. Really hard. Chastise young boy about his inability to stop effectively. Remove skis. Walk downhill to lodge. Carry on conversation with another adult from our party.
• 11:05am- Call wife at work. Can’t remember who I am traveling with, or where I am.
• 11:15am- Another adult from my party meets me in lodge. Have second conversation with him. Cannot recall 11:03am conversation.
• 11:30am- Decision is made to send me to Infirmary. Wanda told to stay with children in Lodge. Wanda refuses, escorts me to Infirmary.
• 11:45am- 2:00pm Assorted triage in Infirmary by Mr. Jewett. Placed in cervical collar. Placed on backboard. Loaded in ambulance. Party remains to ski, since wife en route to hospital

Note: Further events are to the best of my recollection. Times are approximate.

• 2:00-2:40pm Transported to Kingston Hospital Emergency Room. (Driver was Waldo, Medic was Pam?) Vitals normal. Blood glucose 84. Need food.
• 3:00pm- Wife arrives at Hospital.
• 3:30pm- Wife begins pestering local neurologist for appointment. First available time- 4 weeks.
• 4:00pm- CT scan.
• 4:15pm- Turkey Sandwich. First food since 6:30am.
• 4:30pm- CT scan results negative.
• 5:00pm- Released from hospital. Wife drives home.
• 5:45pm- Nearly home. Cannot recall what car I am sitting in. Clearly still addled.
• 6:00pm- In bed. Wife orders pizza for us AND most of our ski party, now arriving soon.
• 7:30pm- Wife goes with friend to pick up van, which had to be left behind in Woodbury, about 35 minutes north.
• 11:00pm- Sleeping.

Thursday, February 19th

• 1:00am- After 2 hours of sleep, wake to alarm for wife to check status of pupils, fever, headache, etc.
• 3:00am- After 2 more hours of sleep, wake to alarm for wife to check status of pupils, fever, headache, etc.
• 5:45am- Awake. Watching Hulu. Checking Facebook.
• 9:00am- Wife continues pestering neurologist for appointment.
• 1:00pm- Neurologist ‘finds’ appointment time. Squeeky wheel, meet grease.
• 3:00pm- To neurologist. Clean bill of health. Can return to work when I feel ready. Possibility of symptoms for as long as 6 months(!?!) but my progress is “better than most.”
• 4:10pm- Home and blogging. Thankful for wife, responsible children, great friends, and outstanding medical and emergency personnel.

Photo from Love-Sessions.com

One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to spend more time with my wife and value that relationship more. She and I took our first step by having the first Date Night we’ve had in a while.

Getting out of the house for date night is no easy task these days. Going on a date before kids is as easy as picking up the phone, saying “do you have plans?” and heading out the door. Once you have kids, it gets much more complicated. When they were younger, it was about finding a babysitter for the two of them. Then as my son got to be old enough, it was “whose house is he playing at and who will watch my daughter?” Now that they are 15 and 11, it’s become complicated in other ways.

For example, the kids now have their own social calendars. When my daughter is going to the school dance and needs to be picked up at 9pm, someone has to be available. When my son and his girlfriend want to hang out, someone has to be home with them. Really. They’re old enough to be alone, but too old to be left alone, if you know what I mean.

We finally worked it out a couple of weeks ago. The wife and I went out to see a movie My wife was getting the kids set up at home, and I went out to the Mall. I bought the tickets and scoped out a restaurant. Then I remembered one of the reasons we never go out on Friday nights.

Have you tried to go to a restaurant at a mall on a Friday Night? I told my wife to bring granola bars because there was no way we could eat. Then she reminded me about the Food Court. Classy? No. Fast and easy? Yes. Easy to get a table? Quite.

There we sat with our wooden chopsticks, japanese food, and Arizona Iced Tea on our plastic trays. a little romantic dinner behind the food kiosk. My wife suggested behind it because it’s quieter there. Note to self- the fact that it’s further removed from the Food Court proper means it gets cleaned 1/4 as much.

Following our lovely little dinner (and it was lovely, because the company was great and there were no dishes to do at the end) we headed off to the Snack Bar for the movie. We don’t actually GO to the Snack Bar. We go to Target. Sure, Target sells blankets and iPods and bicycles. Target also sells candy and water. That was all we needed. My wife pondered hiding the food stuffs we had ‘illegally’ acquired outside of the theater, but I assured her that I was certain… um, relatively sure… er, that I heard somewhere that they can’t keep you out for having outside food. For heaven’s sake, it’s a mall. Would they keep me out if I bought a pillow at Bed Bath and Beyond prior to attending my movie?

Anyway, we got to the movie with plenty of time to spare. “Last Chance Harvey” starring Emma Thompson and Dustin Hoffman. 15 minutes before the start of the movie, few seats remained. We were lucky enough to get two in the back. The next couple to come in got two in the front row. Luckily, we didn’t have long to wait. Just 15 short minutes before… previews. 11 minutes worth of previews. Then 5 minutes worth of movie chain b.s. about your cell phone, buying tickets online, etc.

The previews were actually welcomed. My wife watched the previews (obviously geared toward the audience, with most of them being some kind of romantic story) and stated that she “could see that” when it came out. And so, the mental checklist begins for future movie nights.

The movie was good. My wife says great. I think Hoffman and Thompson were great, but the movie built around them was only okay. Had the other characters been a little better fleshed out, the movie would have jumped a rating level. However, the movie served it’s purpose. It gave us a night out of the house (away from the kids whom we love but sometimes please can’t you just leave us ALONE?) in each other’s company doing something other than worry about the bills, the basement renovation, or which cat is hurling all over the comforter.

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I know, I know. But the other day, I was feeling like I should call. I was lonely. I felt, at that particular moment, that I wanted to hear her voice. She wasn’t there. The voice mail picked up. Now I had to decide what to do. Should I:

• hang up? I didn’t really call for anything important.  It’s merely a ‘hi, how are you, I missed you’ call, so is it really worth interrupting her workday?
• leave a message? I never like leaving mushy messages, because the sound so lame. You never know what to say, and your voice already sounds weird, so it’s never as cool as you hoped it would be.

By now, the outgoing message is nearly over, and it’s become a time critical decision. If I fail to decide promptly, I will end up hanging up after the beep. Then it becomes a ‘hang-up’ and my nice sweet phone call becomes an annoyance. That wasn’t what I wanted and…

BEEP!

“I just called… to say… I love youoooooo! I was thinking of you, and decided to give you a call. I miss you, and love you, and can’t wait to see you. Talk to you later!”

CLICK.

Rats. That was not nearly as awesome as I wanted it to be.

At the end of the workday, I check my messages. She called back.

“I love it when you sing to me.”

Cheesy, yes. But sometimes cheesy sells.

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Resolution 1- Lose Weight and Improve General Health

A few years ago, I weighed in at 250 pounds. I felt terrible at that weight, so I put myself on a self-designed regimen of exercise (walking every day for about 2 miles) and diet (more vegetables and fruits, much less volume of everything else.) It worked, and I lost 30 pounds.

Now, I’ve regained all the weight, and then some! When I’m fat, I’m not as good as father as I should be. I finish work and want to go to sleep. I don’t have the energy to play or even talk with the kids most days. I don’t feel attractive, so it has an impact on my, er, um, marriage. Not to mention the fact that if I drop the weight, I increase my life span significantly. I’ll be a much better father and husband if I am, in fact, alive. Of course, I am worth a significant amount of money deceased, so there is a potential fail/win if I don’t lose the weight. However, I resolve to get my weight down to 220 pounds.

Resolution 2- Learn from The Cobbler

I’ve heard many times about The Cobbler whose kids have no shoes. I will make sure my children have shoes… no, wait! That’s not it. Actually, my kids are both extremely talented musically. My son is even considering going into Music Education. You would think that I’d be on that like white on rice. I’m not.

There are a variety of factors that contribute. Distance is a big one. We’re apart for 4 night every week, so we don’t get to touch base all week on things like practice. Then I come home for the weekend and get dragged into things that are more pressing but less important. I resolve to make more time to foster my children’s musical talents.

Resolution 3- Remember The Most Important Earthly Relationship

We are all a collection of our experiences and relationships. Many are by chance. We do not pick our mother, nor do we pick our father. Our children are born to us. We choose to have them (usually) but we must play the hand we’re dealt. You can’t just bail on your kids if the relationship is in trouble. They are yours for keeps.

We make one truly important choice in our lives: the choice of a mate. I remind my kids when they get particularly thorny with their mother that “she was the one I chose to spend my life with. I love them, but she comes first.” The truth of that is often forgotten in the heat of whatever family moment we are in. I need to remember each and every moment that the most important person in my life is my wife. The fact that she is so wonderful should make me get down on my knees each day to give thanks. What it actually does is allow me to put her needs second, third, and last, knowing that she is so special she will never hold it against me. She deserves better, and I would like to try to give her better. I resolve to spend at least two nights each month putting her needs first and foremost.

Check out my resolutions on Faith and Technology.

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