Tag: birthday

Reflections on Another Year

It’s complicated. It’s Father’s Day. My father wasn’t the father I wanted him to be; however, given how things have turned out, it appears he was the father I needed.

It’s complicated. Twenty-nine years ago today, my mother called to tell me that my father had suffered another heart attack and didn’t survive. It was a Saturday, and the next day was Father’s Day. his sudden death is one of the saddest days of my life.

It’s complicated. As critical as I was of my father while growing up, on this day when we celebrate fathers, I am reminded of how challenging it is to be a parent. You are constantly trying to make the best decisions, but you often fail. I love my sons more than anything in the world. I haven’t been perfect, but I have always loved them.

It’s complicated. An elected official was assassinated yesterday, marking the seventh such incident in the last 50 years. There is a suspect and it appears he was targeting several other elected officials. Meanwhile, the president celebrated his birthday with a grand military parade, something I have never witnessed in my lifetime across the country. There were mostly peaceful protests taking place. The country is deeply divided.

It’s complicated. Birthdays should be a celebration—a time to reflect on all that is good in our lives. Over the past year, I have used social media to acknowledge birthdays. Each day, I start by checking Facebook for birthday announcements. For those who share their birthdays, I make sure to send them a heartfelt birthday message.

I also take a moment to reflect on how I know each person, why they remain friends on Facebook, and the joy we have brought to each other’s lives. My friends come from various places, with diverse interests, differing political views, and various professions. While I may have favorites among them, taking the time to think about each friend is a nice way to start my day and often reminds me of many wonderful memories.

I also remember friends who are no longer with us but are still on Facebook. I believe that if we dedicate time to remember and celebrate these connections, it enriches our lives.

It’s a bittersweet day for me—today marks my birthday, Father’s Day, and the anniversary of my dad’s passing. It’s a lot to process. So, let’s take a moment to do something special today to brighten the world around us. Reach out to the people you love; they might be facing their own complexities. You never know how your words of kindness can make a difference. Life is complicated.



Day 17 2024 Gratitude Challenge

Over the last three days, at least one family member—whether it be my brother, nephew, sister, or grandma—had a birthday. Today marks what would have been my grandmother’s 125th birthday. She lived for 97 years, leaving behind a lasting legacy. Birthdays should be celebrated.

Social media often faces criticism and condemnation for being a source of many societal problems, and much of that criticism is justified. Observing the comments of friends, family, and others before and after the election has been both interesting and disappointing. We can and should strive to do better.

But this post is not about the problems of social media. I choose to disregard and ignore most of the negativity on social media. I prefer to focus on positive aspects. Whether sharing pictures, interesting news articles, thoughtful quotes, or funny thoughts of family, vacations, nature, sporting events, or my dog,

Since my last birthday, I have made a daily effort to wish all Facebook friends a happy birthday. Each day, I take few moments to wish my friends a happy birthday. Additionally, I take a moment to reflect on our connection and express gratitude for these people. It has been a fantastic daily habit.

This post explores the connections between birthdays and social media. I use social media to connect with friends and build positive relationships.

Today, the challenge is to use social media to strengthen relationships and express appreciation, gratitude, and recognition. You might wish your friends a happy birthday or scroll through your list of friends and reflect on wonderful memories. Let’s be grateful for how we are connected.

Day 15 Gratitude Challenge

Death is inevitable. It leaves a trail of sorrow for those left behind. There are so many unanswered questions. Yet, one thing is certain . My brother is dead. We buried his remains today. Jason Harris

I wrote the quote above just over four years ago on the day I buried my oldest brother, Jeff. I vividly remember writing those words and can still feel the pain, anger, sadness, and confusion I experienced. I will always remember. I don’t believe you ever forget the pain of losing someone you love so deeply.

The five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—are commonly understood as a sequential journey, often thought to unfold in a specific order. However, since the loss of my brother, I’ve found myself navigating these stages in various sequences and sometimes experiencing them all in one day. Most days, I come to a place of acceptance, though it’s a difficult journey, and I embrace that feeling as best as I can, knowing it’s a part of the healing process. Yet, I often wonder: is it truly possible to fully heal from such a profound loss?

Today marks several significant events. It’s the 15th day of the gratitude challenge, which means we’ve reached the halfway mark. It’s also 10 days past the election. Most importantly, today is my brother’s birthday; he would have been 64.

Today’s challenge invites us to transform a negative experience into a positive reflection. Let’s take a moment to think about those who are no longer with us. It’s natural to feel a mix of emotions, and acknowledging the impact they had on our lives is important. We can hold on to the gratitude for the moments we shared with them, cherishing their memory. Although we may not be able to thank them directly, we can honor their legacy and the positive influence they brought into our lives. This act of remembrance allows us to celebrate the love and lessons they imparted, keeping their spirit alive in our hearts.

As Many With as Without


“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” – Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

 

Time is an interesting concept. Today is a day that marks a significant moment in my life. Many years ago, on this day, I was born into this world. As I grow older, I am reminded that each birthday is a precious gift and should be celebrated.

This weekend, I’m just not feeling the birthday cheer. It’s the eighth time my birthday has landed on a Saturday, and it always sends me on a trip down memory lane.

On a beautifully sunny birthday, I was enjoying a morning round of golf with two new friends in a new town. As we strolled off the green of our 12th hole and headed towards the 13th tee, a young man in a golf cart handed me an urgent note from the pro shop. Written in striking red ink, the note read, “Paramedics called. Call your mom at home.”

This was before cell phones became prevalent. As I was at the furthest point on the course from the clubhouse, I rode back to the clubhouse with the young man. While I did not know exactly what had happened, I knew this ride would be a turning point in my life.

As I reached the clubhouse, I called my mother and received devastating news. She informed me that my father had passed away and asked me to return home immediately. It was difficult to comprehend – I had just hugged him less than 12 hours before. It felt like a surreal and heartbreaking moment. The next day was Father’s Day.

I continue to feel a deep sense of sadness about my father not being here. I often find myself wishing he could have met my wife and sons, and for them to have had the opportunity to meet him.

Today feels like a significant turning point. My father has been absent from my life for as long as he was present. In recent years, I’ve pondered how I would feel. I can confirm that little has changed as I write this.

So forgive me if I don’t want to celebrate or play golf this weekend. Maybe I will have a shot whisky or glass of wine in his honor, but there won’t be a party.

March Sadness

March is a month of transformation and growth. It marks the shift from winter to spring, from darkness to light, and from barrenness to fertility. Moreover, for those who follow college basketball, it is the most thrilling three weeks of the year. At one time, I also regarded it as a month of change and evolution.

In March, I am reminded of what was. It marks her entrance into the world, her departure from it, and the cruel echo of her absence that reverberates most profoundly in my soul.

March 17 is a day of festivities, celebration, and joy for many Americans. However, on this day 18 years ago, what began as a typical day quickly turned when I received a call just before 8:00 am saying, “She is not doing very well; you should come.”

As I entered her room, my heart was racing with anticipation and fear. I could see her lying there, frail and weak. Without wasting another moment, I grabbed her hand tightly and whispered, “Mom, I am here.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if she had been waiting for me to arrive. It was a moment of profound sadness and unspoken love. As I stood there, trying to process what had just happened, I knew I needed my wife by my side. So, I quickly dialed her number and asked her to come.

“I hope you never hear those words. Your mom. She died. They are different than other words. They are too big to fit in your ears. They belong to some strange, heavy, powerful language that pounds away at the side of your head, a wrecking ball coming at you again and again, until finally, the words crack a hole large enough to fit inside your brain. And in so doing, they split you apart.” 

For One More Day – Mitch Albom

The next few hours were a whirlwind of emotions. Phone calls were made to family and friends to let them know about what had happened. Amidst all the chaos, there was one promise that had to be kept. It was St Patrick’s Day and we had promised our two-year-old son that he could watch the parade. Despite the heavy heart, we wanted to make sure he got to experience the joy and excitement of the parade. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that our little one had no idea of the tragedy that had struck. It would be great if we could all take a break from the chaos and simply soak in the joy of a parade. Sadly, that wasn’t my experience. Even though my son was having a blast, I couldn’t shake off this feeling of emptiness.

As the years have passed since my mother’s passing, I have hoped that the feeling of emptiness would eventually go away. Unfortunately, it hasn’t. Every year in March, I find myself drawn to “For One More Day” by Mitch Albom. One of my favorite quotes from the book is “Sharing tales of those we’ve lost is how we keep from really losing them.” Therefore, I encourage you to share the story of a loved one who is no longer with us as you go about your day today.

Birthdays

For most, birthdays are significant. It marks another revolution around the sun. Another year of thriving, surviving, or something in between. It is a cause for celebration and reflection.

Today I am celebrating another year. The older I get, the more precious these are. We all have friends and family who will not see another birthday.

I have not always been in a celebratory mood on my birthday. If you recall my last post, I talked about the last time I saw my father. Originally, I wasn’t going to stop at the house to see him that night. Why would I stop? After all, I was going to see him the next day when we gathered to celebrate my birthday.

For many years my birthday has been a painful reminder of one of my darkest days. I can still hear the quiver in my mother’s voice as she told me my father had unexpectedly passed away. I remember the spot I was standing when I received word. I was golfing at the time and had to tell the golf group what had happened. We were all young, far too young to experience this.

Since that day, I have worked to use the day not only to reflect and mourn what was lost that day but also to celebrate. So today, I will take time to reflect on my father. The gifts he gave me. I’ll tell him what has happened over the last year. I will honor him.

I will also celebrate. My celebration today will be different. Today, for the first time, I will be celebrating my birthday with the woman the gave birth to me. So today should be a very good day.

Christmas Eve

It is December 24.  It is a day when families and friends gather to begin Christmas celebrations. Growing up, our family would gather on Christmas eve with friends. We would have oyster stew, cheese plates, and other hors d’oeuvres.  Sometimes my parents would let me have a glass of wine or coke.  Because my father was born on December 24, we also had a birthday cake and gave him presents. At the end of the evening, the kids could open one present before bed.  We capped the evening off by opening ONE present. We always chose the gift from Grandma Harris because she ALWAYS bought us pajamas from the JC Penny in Aberdeen. 

When my father passed away, Christmas eve became a painful reminder of what was lost when he passed. I didn’t really enjoy it much. However, there were two events that changed my view. 

The first was Christmas eve 2001. It was the first Christmas of my marriage.  My wife, our oldest son, and mother traveled to our cabin in the Black Hills.  There is an incredible church in Lead, South Dakota.  It was built in the late 19th/early 20th century. Its Christmas Eve service is amazing. In 2001, the music, the service, the faith, and the fellowship were special. Words can not adequately describe the experience. The church is small, old, and quaint. The pews are wood. The lighting is poor and it was even darker for the late evening service. The sermon gave a great message though I can’t remember what was said. What I do remember is the music. There were two professional musicians with local ties. They shared their gifts with us. Somewhere, I still have the bulletin. To share this experience with my new wife, mother, and oldest son was special. It was the first Christmas Eve after my father’s passing that was not painful. The second was Christmas eve 2018. I’ve written about this before so I won’t bore you with the details.  Long story short, I am adopted. On Christmas eve 2018, after a long search, I received the first communication from my birth mother. It was an overwhelming feeling that I continue to process. Christmas eve is a time of new beginnings and connections.

Tonight, our family will gather. We have established our own traditions which include oyster stew and cheese plate. In recent years, I have purchased five different types of cheese at a local establishment. We all taste, critique, and vote for our favorite. We also enjoy each other’s company. Tomorrow, we will open gifts because it is our tradition to open gifts on Christmas day. From my house to yours, Merry Christmas.

The importance of stories

This picture is of my mom and her dad.  There is no date on the picture, but she looks about 2 or 3 years old. Even at this age, her smile lit up a room. I never met her dad. He died before I was born. Yet from the stories my mom told and this picture, it is clear the two had a special bond.

Today is my mom’s birthday. She would have turned 90 years old. It has been 17 years since I celebrated a birthday with my mom. I wish she could see how great her grandkids have turned out.

I think about my mom every day. Around her birthday, I think about her a lot. March is the month in which she was born and died. There are so many stories I could tell about my mom.  Like the time I fell out of the car and she kept on driving – she hated it when I told that story. Or how sometimes when she and my dad would argue, she would begin to cry and through the tears say “Well, Shit!” and the argument was over. Or how about time she kept sneaking chocolates to my youngest son when she was in the hospital for the last time.

On her last birthday, I could tell mom was tired. Life and Parkinson’s disease had taken a toll on her mind and body. She was no longer the active vibrant woman of my youth. Yet, there was an occasional twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She wanted to say things but her body and mind wouldn’t let her. But through it all, she smiled when we sang happy birthday. She ate her cake and tolerated the grandchildren running around the room. This is how I remember her last birthday.

Mitch Albom wrote, “Sharing tales of those we’ve lost is how we keep from really losing them.” In this post, I shared a couple of stories about my mom. So today, take a moment and share a story about someone you love. If you have a story about my mom, send it to me, I would love to hear it. If your parents or grandparents are still living, call or visit them. Let them tell you a story that you can carry with you forever.

Day 15 of Gratitude Challenge

I’m told that when he was born he was not expected to live more than 10 years. He defied the odds and lived almost 60 years.

14 months ago he contracted Covid and died 11 days later. In the first few months after his death, I vacillated between anger and sadness. Overtime, I made efforts to focus on gratitude. Gratitude for the memories I have. Gratitude for the lessons he taught me. Gratitude for the love he gave. Gratitude for the years he was alive. Gratitude for all he gave to me.

I’m still sad and occasionally angry. But mostly I am grateful to have had a brother like him. Today is his birthday. I’ll celebrate by taking some time to bee grateful for his life.

Today’s challenge requires you to think about somebody who has passed on and do so with gratitude for all the gifts they left for you.