On Children

Remember that first time you held your child? You were somewhere. You remember the place. Your child was put into your arms and you saw all of the potential. Your child was perfect. It didn't matter if he was bald, had hair, pooped on you, or cried. Your child was perfect.

I remember the first time I held my oldest son. Heck, I remember the first time I held all of my children. My baby girl was at the hospital. My three boys were all at the adoption agency. But that first time you hold your baby is so special, so amazing, such an event. We really don't appreciate that enough.

We were at the adoption agency. They brought him in to the room. He was amazing. Brown eyes, brown hair. We have a picture of that time. His big head on my arms and I smiled. I looked at my wife and called him "Munch." It was a dumb nickname but it was perfect for him. My little munchkin. We spent the night at a hotel. I had no idea what I was doing with a baby. Thankfully my wife was there. Then we got on a plane and flew home the next day.

I even remember my first diaper change. We were on a United Airlines flight from New York to San Francisco. My wife had a headache. I said I would change his diaper. I took him to the bathroom and laid out the little diaper changing pad. How hard could this really be? I took off his diaper, wiped him, and turned around to throw it away. When I turned back, I was looking at the Trevi Fountain. (Google it, people.) Someone forgot to warn me that a baby boy will pee like this when you take off his diaper. OOPS! Live and learn. I remember it like it was yesterday.

But what do you feel when your perfect baby isn't? I don't mean that he punches another kid or doesn't do his homework. Heck, I barely did homework from 3rd grade through my junior year of high school. All kids make mistakes. All kids screw up. But what do you feel when your child has problems?

We have all experienced pain. I lost both of my parents. It was two different ways. My dad passed away suddenly, unexpectedly. With my mom, we knew it was coming. Both sucked. Both hurt. But we all know starting at about 9 that life means death. We all have to go. (Although I don't for a minute believe the end of the world is tomorrow.) So that pain comes and we can grieve.

Maybe we lose a friend. Maybe we have our heart broken. That pain is real too. It hurts. We find a way to deal with it.

But what do you do when the pain can't be fixed? Today, my oldest son has to go to LA for a few weeks. Alone. I can't be there with him. And it hit me today - I can't fix him. I want to. I need to. But I can't. Its a tradition in my family. Dad could always fix anything. Need a water pump for a 71 Skylark while you are stuck in the middle of NY? Dad can find one. Need an extra $20 to take your girlfriend on a date? Dad can help you out. Need to get over a broken heart? Dad has a remedy for that. Need to get over a fight with mom? Dad knows how to do that too. Can't move and need a wheelchair that will help you get around at the beach? Yep, dad could get that too.

But now dad doesn't have a fix. Dad can't just make this go away. I can't. And if my dad was here today, he couldn't either. Its a feeling of helplessness that I can't explain. I don't know the relationship between moms and sons or between moms and daughters. I know the relationship between dad and son. Its a special one, and I guess a lot like the relationship between a mother and a daughter. But when the son can't be fixed and when the son has problems that the dad can't solve, what do you do?

I wish I had an answer. Green Day says make the best of life and don't ask why. "It's not a question/but a lesson learned in time." If I take this approach, I guess I don't need an answer. But it seems lacking. It seems like the Budweiser commercial. "Why ask why, try Bud Dry." We see how well that made it. They haven't made Bud Dry since about 1988. It sucked - or so I was told.

Maybe now is not the time for an answer. Maybe now is the time to just ask questions. Maybe there is no answer today, this week, this month. Maybe the answer will come to me in time. Maybe the answer is that he ended up with us because he needed people who could give him the resources that he needed. After all, the odds of a child born in New York and ending up with a family from California are pretty slim. The odds of that child being able to live with two biological siblings are even slimmer. So maybe that is it. Maybe its simple. Someone had a plan for him and knew he would be special. And because he was special, he needed people who could give him access to the things that would give him some quality of life. At least for now, that answer is satisfying enough.

I'm so sorry

A wise person once told me that saying sorry is the difference between being a man and a mouse. I think there is something to that. In fact, I have thought it for a few days, but I haven't had a minute to write about it.

Saying sorry is interesting. I doesn't really fix the problem. Look, Mike Vick can say he is sorry all he wants but there are still dead dogs. Barry Bonds can say he is sorry, oh wait, sorry. He would never say he is sorry. I guess that is why, while I hate what Vick did, I want to see him succeed. (I in no way condone what Vick did.) Dude was given a second chance because he admitted his mistake, as bad as it was, and is trying to be a better person. Bonds can't admit he did anything wrong, even with a small conviction over his head.

So as I was thinking of this, The Script came on. I was listening to the words: "They say bad things happen for a reason/But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding." Sometimes when bad things happen, there are wise words to help.

For example, when you screw up, a bad thing could happen. You miss your traffic ticket court date and a warrant is issued for you. Having a warrant for your arrest is a bad thing. Even if the cops aren't going to come pick you up, its bad. You don't want those floating around out there. But, if you say you are sorry, it will help. At least, the Judge will see you are a man. You are owning up to your mistakes.

So, with that said, let me start with "I'm sorry." I am sorry to the people I made fun of for things they could not control. Yes, I was a jackass when I was younger. (Caveat: I am not sorry for making fun of debt collectors. Those dweebs can get a job that doesn't require you to be an ass 24/7. I am also not sorry for making fun of the radio DJ who used the R word and I may have said he talks like he has marbles in his mouth. He still talks like that and while he may not be able to control it, he could learn to open his diarrhea filled mouth. That would solve the problem.)

I am sorry to the people I hit harder than I meant to or had to. I am sorry I punched you out of the door. You probably deserved it for not being nice to my wife, but I shouldn't have responded that way.

I am sorry to my parents. I wasn't always the best son. I know that. I tried. I did the best I could. I wish I could explain that to you now, but I can't. I am sorry that I can't explain it.

I am sorry to my kids. Look, there is no book on how to be a parent. We learn from our examples - our parents. I parent like my dad did. There is good and bad with it. I know. I yell. I get upset. I totally understand. One day, you will understand that this parenting stuff is harder than it looks.

I am sorry to my wife. The last few weeks, no wait, months, have sucked. We fight more than we should. I am stressed. I know. For some reason, you put up with me. I am sorry I can't fix everything. I wish I could. I wish I could more than you know.

I am sorry to that group of people who know who they are (and aren't reading this because of who they are). Sometimes, I fuck up. I don't mean to. I don't try to. I mean to do good deeds. Sometimes good deeds turn bad. And I know none of you think I need to say it, but I do.

And I am sorry to anyone else who I have hurt - either intentionally or not. I am sorry for not always being a great friend, or even a good friend. I am sorry that I don't pick up the phone and call as often as I should. Yeah, Facebook is great, but its not quite the same thing. I am sorry I don't write you a letter or send an email. I know I should.

And while I am apologizing, let me be perfectly clear: there are some things for which I shouldn't apologize. No, won't apologize for. Ever.

I am not going to apologize for advocating for my kids. Ever. Look, they are kids. They will always be my kids. At 11, 9, 7 and 1. At 21, 19, 17 and 11. At 31, 29, 27 and 21. At 41, 39, 37, and 31. And as smart as they may be, they are never going to have the same life experiences, or the same amount of life experience that I have. I am going to advocate for them. Sure, it may not be as much as they get older, but especially when they are young, I am going to get upset, get annoyed. If you are supposed to help my kids and you don't, I will give you another chance. Maybe even 3. But if you continue to fuck with my kids, I do have a breaking point. I will yell. I may make you cry. I will not apologize.

I will not apologize if you hurt my family and I kick your ass. I got in some dumb fights when I was younger. 7th grade over some comment some kid made to me. 9th grade, 10th grade. Hell, back in like 4th grade. I haven't been in a fight since my freshman year of college. Its like 20 years. But, if you hurt my family, I will kick your ass. I promise. And I won't say I am sorry after.

I will not apologize if I do what I think is right. If you are dying, I may not tell you everything. I may hide some things from you. I don't do it out of hate or spite or because I am a dick, I do it because I care. I do it because I do not want to hurt you. I do it because I know you have bigger issues in life than my issues. I promise I don't mean to hurt you by doing it, but I also promise I will not apologize for it. Nope. Not going to happen.

Yes, a real man stands up and apologizes. A man will admit when he has made a mistake. I admit to my mistakes. But there are sometimes when a man shouldn't, can't and won't apologize. I won't say I am sorry for those things. For everything else, I am sorry.

On death and dying

As anyone who is reading this knows, I recently lost my mom. Cancer blows. A lot. Its tough now that I have lost both my parents. Not even 40 yet. Yeah, I know. Some people have it worse than me. I get it. Doesn't make it hurt any less. I wasn't overly close with my mom, but there is still a pain. But this isn't about me. This is about what people should do when a friend or loved one loses someone. Call it Jon's Commandments on Death and Dying.

1. Thou shalt not say "Its for the best." Really? The best? No, you know whats for the best? Its for the best if people didn't get fucked up diseases like cancer. Its for the best when someone gets a chance to say goodbye to a loved one. Its for the best if people wouldn't open their idiotic mouths and spill out shit like this.

Lets think about it. The best is a good thing. Michael Jordan was the best. Pele was the best. Bruce Springsteen is called The Boss because he is the best. I am not the best. See, how that works? You don't walk around and say "Osama bin Laden was the best terrorist." There is no such thing as a good terrorist. Get it?

Now, if the survivor comes up to you and you are talking about it and he or she says "I lost my mom but at least she is not suffering anymore" then feel free to make a comment. That is an opening. You can say something at that point. Still, avoid the best. Maybe "I am sorry for your loss. Its good that she is not in pain." See, still not using the best.

You think I make this crap up? When I lost my dad, my aunt said it was for the best. WTF? I lost my dad. I was 29 years old. He was 63. I'm sorry. Anytime someone does before 70 its not for the best. Its not even good. Its a life unlived. Its potential lost. At 63 my dad was still 10 times smarter than me. He accomplished more in his last year of life than I did in my first 20. What exactly is good about it? Sure, he had Parkinsons and some bullshit leukemia that I have never heard of. But his brain worked. His body worked when he needed it to. He managed to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. He was there when I graduated from law school. Fuck that crap. Its not for the best. Yeah, and I am bitter. I know.

2. Thou shalt not post on Facebook before the closest living relative. Yes you, dumbass who can't get off Facebook. (And I know some of you are reading this through Facebook or through a link from Facebook. Don't take it personally. If I am still your friend on Facebook it means you didn't do this.) Look, when someone dies, it sucks. But it sucks more for the people who are closest.

Anyone who has lost someone knows what I mean. Sure, when my grandfather passed away, I was sad. It sucked. But you know what? It sucked for my mom 10 times more. When a friend's mom passed away, it sucked. And I know he had it so much worse than I did. When a client's son recently passed away, I was sad. Maybe its lame for me to be sad, but I was. But I sure as hell know that my client had it a million times worse than I had it.

If your aunt passes away, its sad. Aw...I feel for you. However, your aunts kids are much worse off than you are. Again, personal experience. How dare you announce to everyone what a loss you have had. How about giving those of us who were her children a chance to process it. The morning she passed away? Really? Screw you. Yeah, you had a loss. Yeah, you need sympathy. I am sure it was so hard for you. Oh wait. You didn't bother coming to the funeral but you had to get all of the sympathy from your Facebook friends? If you don't go to the funeral, then don't bother telling everyone how sad you are and dont but that BS on Facebook.

3. Thou shalt not be a jackass over the estate. I don't know which is worse - people fighting in a divorce or people fighting over someone's estate. Look, there is a good reason for a will. It makes sense to have one. I highly suggest it and would be happy to recommend a good estate planning attorney near you. I know one in almost every state. But not everything is covered in a will or a trust.

For example, lets say you have a will that gives your money to A and B. Great. What about the knick-knacks in the house? Those little tchotchkes need to be given to someone. So, when you find a picture of your sibling as a baby, GIVE HIM THE FUCKING PICTURE. It doesn't matter if you like your sibling or not. Its just human decency. What are you going to do with a picture of your sibling? Throw it away. Yeah, thats environmentally friendly. Oh wait, no its not. And Goodwill doesn't want that crap. Unless your sibling is Diane Lane or Adam Levine or some other famous person that people of the opposite sex would find attractive, no one wants that stupid picture. Oh, well, no one except your sibling!

Those books on the bookshelf? Yeah, I know. So meaningful that you don't even know what they are for. Trust me - the sibling who wants it wants it for a reason. Do you really think anyone else cares about a PhD thesis on the chemical structure of some chemical thing that 10 people in the world understand? NO!!!! Am I clear? NO ONE CARES. Again, except the sibling. Give him the damn book. And that 40 year old book? Yep, no one wants that either. It has no value. Just man up (or woman up) and give it to him. Are you that much of a bastard?

4. Thou shalt not tell anyone not to come to a funeral. This should not be a surprise to anyone, but apparently it is: the funeral is not about the living. Its a way to honor the dead. Go look it up.

Every single religion. Even the nonsense cults agree that a funeral is a way to honor the dead. Again, nothing about the living there. Even the Wyoming Funeral Directors Association say its a way to honor and remember the deceased. (Yes, Wyoming has a funeral directors association. I don't know how many members they have - 5? 10? But it exists. Google it.)

Thus, if you won't go to a funeral because little Jackie is going to be there and you don't like little Jackie then you are an asshole. A big one. Yep. That means you think the funeral is about you. It isn't. And it also means that you don't care enough about the deceased to show your respects. Yep. There are no ifs, ands or buts about this. If you can't act like an adult for 30 minutes, then you shouldn't be there. (See commandment 5 below.) I don't care if you think Jackie is a loser. At least Jackie cares enough to show up. In my book, that makes Jackie a pretty good person.

You want to grieve? Sit shiva. Go dance a jig. Do whatever it is that folks do. I don't know. I don't really get the whole grieving process. I suck at it. Big time. Yep, I still don't think I have properly grieved for my dad and its been 8 1/2 years. I know. I suck at it. But there is a process that you can go through. The funeral isn't about you. Clear?

5. Thou shalt say something to the people who go to the funeral. Yes, its for people who can act grown up. You don't have to be a grown up. I remember being about 11. A friend's dad passed away. Talk about sucking for someone. My mom took 3 friends and me to the funeral. We wore our black suits. (Yes, you MUST wear a black suit to a funeral if you are a man and a black outfit if you are a woman. There are no exceptions. You don't own a black suit? Buy one. Keep it in your closet. Try it on once a year. And no sandals. Are we 12 and in middle school? Sure, sandals can be classy and dressed up. Not at a funeral.) We sat quietly and were there to support our friend and pay our respects to his dad. I didn't understand much of a Catholic funeral at the time. But I acted like a grown up.

So, when someone you love dies, and it will happen, then you need to go up and say something to the people who cared about your loved one enough to show up. I don't care if some douchebag from high school that you hate shows up. Man up and say "Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me." I don't care if it doesn't mean jackshit to you. Do it. Its the right thing to do. Again, its not about you. Its about the deceased. Do you mean to tell me that your mom wouldn't want you thanking someone for coming to an event? I know better. Every mom teaches that to her kids. Its learned in freaking Kindergarten. Its one of the very basic concepts of civilization - thank people.

Remember the good times and not the bad times. I know its easy to say. And I know I don't do this all the time. I think of my mom in her bed before she passed away instead of her playing soccer in the Old Timers Game. I remember my dad needing help to the bathroom instead of the drive to Virginia in his Corvette. Its hard. But I think its the right thing to do. And as of tonight, I am going to try it.

One final note: Oh, and when I die, if you are reading this, let me be clear: party. Big ole party. I don't want people sitting around crying over me. My life is not a perfect life. I fuck up plenty. Just ask anyone who knows me or knew me. Seriously, find the guys on Facebook who knew me in Freehold when I was in elementary school or when I got kicked out of middle school. Find the folks who knew me in San Diego in high school. Find people in Sacramento. I fuck up. I admit it. I don't want people sitting around saying "Oh he was such a great guy." Do I do good things once in a while? Sure. Have I done something great? Nope. No cure for cancer. No way to fix a broken heart. So do me a favor, come to my house after the funeral, bring some food, turn on the music, and enjoy yourselves.

One final, final note: seriously. Follow these 5 commandments. Its not because I say so. Its because its the human, decent thing to do.