Our Maddy Has Cancer

Earlier this week, I took our beloved eight-year-old (she just turned nine yesterday) Dalmatian, Maddy, to the veterinarian. She has a swelling on her right front leg that would rise and fall, and suddenly quit falling, swelling up more than ever. I posted the bad news on Twitter after delivering it to my wife: the dog who was our first child has cancer.

Canine Osteosarcoma, to be exact. From Wikipedia:

Osteosarcoma is the most common bone tumor in dogs and typically afflicts middle-age large and giant breed dogs such as Irish Wolfhounds, Greyhounds, German Shepherds, Rottweilers, Doberman Pinschers and Great Danes. It has a ten times greater incidence in dogs than humans. A hereditary base has been shown in St. Bernard dogs. Spayed/neutered dogs have twice the risk of intact ones to develop osteosarcoma.

The picture above is an X-ray of a healthy dog leg. The picture to the right is our Maddy's X-ray. In the far right of the picture of the healthy dog leg, you can see the large bone that is missing in Maddy's leg -- literally eaten away from the inside out by the cancer cells. The two bones in the healthy X-ray are the ulna and radius, though I couldn't tell you which is which. In Maddy's leg, one is completely eaten away and the other is very, very deteriorated. The large swelling, I understand, is a result of her body trying to fight the cancer.

The vet, who we have used for the first time but who came highly recommended, prescribed prednisone for her, to fight the inflammation and help relieve the pain. I'm not convinced yet that it is doing either, though all that I have read about it says that it takes several days of continuous use to have the desired effect. So far, it seems to have only succeeded in causing her to be more thirsty and urinate more.

We haven't yet decided what course of treatment to take. The doctor mentioned three options: amputation of the leg plus chemotherapy; amputation alone; pain management only. He seemed to believe that her case was too far progressed for amputation and chemotherapy to do much to prolong her life or improve the quality of what time she has left, which he says may be as little as three months or as many as six.

Again, studying the situation seems to suggest that amputation would greatly relieve her pain and improve the quality of the time she has remaining. It also seems that amputation plus chemotherapy might give her as many as four to ten months more life. However, all of the studying in the world doesn't necessarily apply to Maddy's case.

My wife and I are currently struggling with watching our Maddy. We keep hoping that she will just get better. It's hard not to do that. And we struggle with whether to try to just help her manage the pain, amputate the leg, or amputate and treat with chemotherapy. The struggle for me is that my own mother lost her fight with cancer several years ago. She started chemotherapy and ended it shortly thereafter, convinced that the treatment only made her feel worse and wouldn't prolong her life or add any quality to it. Reports suggest that chemotherapy in dogs does not have the same dramatic side effects as it has in people. I just don't know.

What I do know is that we love our dog, and we don't want to lose her. But we also have faith in God, and know that everything that happens is for His purpose. Sometimes, though, it's hard to accept that His purpose might mean taking away a loved one, like our Maddy.

Yesterday was her ninth birthday. She's been with us since she was six weeks old, long before either of our children were born. We had a birthday party for her today, and pampered and spoiled her. She had a hot dog to eat, plus two new hot dog squeaky toys. She had several doggie cookies, and one real cupcake, which she absolutely loved.

Tomorrow, I'll be speaking with the vet again about his thoughts on amputation, chemotherapy, or just pain management. I just need to make sure that whatever decision we make, we are making as informed a decision as possible. I need to make sure that we aren't making a selfish decision. I don't want to prolong her life just to keep her with us longer if it will be a miserable life for her. But I don't want to just manage the pain if more aggressive treatment might add some quality months or years to her life. It won't be an easy decision to make, whatever we decide. I just wish Maddy could tell us what she would choose.

Your comments?

Joe


Maddy's Cancer Battle

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The Joe Show 82 - Fire and Fast Cars

Average Joe Radio
presents

The Joe Show
featuring
Average Joe American

Episode Eighty-Two: Fire and Fast Cars

Buffalo Treason by William Brooks

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My Richard Petty Driving Experience

For my 40th birthday my wife gave me a Richard Petty Driving Experience Ride Along at Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Today was the day, and it was a pretty awesome experience. At approximately one lap per minute, the average speed for the three lap trip around IMS was 150 miles per hour.

My scheduled ride time was 10AM, and we arrived thirty minutes early, as requested. We were quickly signed into the program and shuttled down to the track with several other Ride Along participants.


Once again I had to check in and sign a waiver with all of the typical legal lingo, where I also bought a souvenir Richard Petty Driving Experience hat.

To this point, the experience was going much faster and much smoother than expected. I was prepared to spend the better part of the morning waiting, and my wife was prepared to spend hours trying to entertain the kids in the spectator stands waiting for me to make it to the track.

I was quickly given a racing suit and fitted for a helmet, which fit quite snugly (understandably so).

I waited for maybe five minutes in full racing gear (minus the HANS device, which would be fitted to me track side just before climbing into the car).

After such a short wait in full gear, I was sent to the end of the waiting line of cars -- an un-numbered Richard Petty Driving Experience car in the traditional Petty blue and red.

I expertly climbed into the passenger side of the car. As this was the Ride Along, not the actual driving experience, getting behind the wheel was not an option (probably smartly so). Throwing first my left leg through the window, then my right, I slid easily into the seat. The hardest part of entering the car was squeezing my big old helmeted head into the car behind me.

After being buckled into the car by a professional and posing for a quick snapshot that now appears on a plaque hanging in our office, the driver Donny introduced himself to me and asked me where I was from.

After a few quick moments of small talk, the line of cars began the taxi onto the track.

This was, for me, the most exciting part of the entire experience. Feeling the G-force as the car quickly came to speed on the track was unlike anything I've ever felt before. Though I later explained it as being similar to a roller coaster, it was in actuality nothing like a roller coaster at all.

With every tick of the tachometer I could feel the adrenaline flowing through me. We went from zero to fast in nothing flat.

As we made our way into turn one my adrenaline reached a peak that it took hours to come down from. Exiting turn one I found myself wishing we could pass, but of course this was an exhibition event for the passenger, and passing was not a part of the program.

If anyone ever said that the flat layout of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was made for IRL cars and not stock cars, they don't know what they're talking about. The ride felt so natural it was like the car was running on rails.

==MORE BELOW THE VIDEO==



Direct video link.

As the car came to a stop after the very brief experience, all I could think was, Let's go again, let's go again. Not yet, though.

I found my family waiting trackside for me: my daughter and wife happy to see me again, my son just glad that the whole thing was over (he hated the whole event, I assume mostly because he was afraid that his Daddy might get hurt).

We picked up a plaque with my picture on it, visited the gift shop, then headed home. It was an experience that will likely never be duplicated, and one that I'm happy to say that I greatly enjoyed.

Your comments?

Joe

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40th Birthday Bash

This week I'll hit the big Four-O. Yesterday, my wife put together a birthday celebration for me. I constantly say that we don't need to have get-togethers for my birthday, but my wife's family gets together for every birthday, and to my wife it is very important to have everyone get together for my birthday, as well.

So the first part of the plan was to have her parents come into town on Saturday night to spend the night. They would have some time to play with the kids and visit, then go to church with us the next morning, then we'd have our little birthday get together.

My wife is very big into baking, mostly cakes and cupcakes, but generally anything. So she made this huge three-layer cake. It was unbelievably big and, in fact, a pretty large part of it is still in the freezer. I'll probably be eating cake for weeks.

I had to work Saturday morning, but only until about noon. When I came home at noon, my son was all excited about the birthday surprises they had planned for me. At one point he said, "Don't look in the oven," because there was a special surprise hidden there for me. We then went to the play room to set up the air mattress for the in-laws to sleep on. I was getting quite hungry and asked my son to ask his mother to put the pizza in the oven. He said, "You mean order the pizza?" I soon learned I should have taken his advice.

Several minutes later, my wife came running into the room, shouting, "I need you! I turned on the oven to preheat it and the kolachies were still in there and now they're all burning and the plastic plate is melting all over the oven!" I ran down the stairs to the rescue, deep into the terrible stench of melted plastic. I grabbed a pot holder and pulled the entire rack from the oven, with the smoldering kolachies on it, and sat it on the sink. I turned off the oven and stood back in shock.

It took some four hours to allow the oven to cool, chip out the majority of the plastic, then heat it back up and clean out the rest, as well as chip the plastic icicles off the oven rack (never should have let it cool completely). The stench of melted plastic never seemed to go away. My wife was devastated about the destroyed kolachies. She had made them for me before, but never from my grandmother's original recipe. Maybe I should explain kolachies.

As a kid, every year at Christmas my grandmother would make these amazing danish type snacks she called kolachies. She would make them for myself, my father, and my brother. We would each receive our own specially prepared cookie tin filled with kolachies, and we treasured them so much that we wouldn't share them with anyone. In fact, we would always joke about trying to eat each other's kolachies before eating our own. Not possible, as we all guarded our prize closely. Each year, to make them more special, I imagine, Gram (my grandmother) would tell us that they were so much work, and it got harder and harder for her every year, and that she just hadn't made any that year. Then, eventually, they would come out. My grandmother passed away a few years back, and the kolachies went with her. Except that my wife took it upon herself this year to get my grandmother's original recipe from my brother's wife. And this year, she made them as a special surprise for me.

So after getting the plastic all cleaned up, my wife said she wanted to make another batch of kolachies for me. She said it was important to her that I have the kolachies. I was concerned that first it would take too much time and be too much work for her, and I wanted her to be able to visit with her parents, and second that they would come out of the oven tasting like plastic. I suggested she bake something else as a test first before going to all the work of making the kolachies.

To make a long story short (if it's not already too late), the biscuits she made as a test product came out fine, and she proceeded to prepare a second batch of kolachies that tasted so incredibly like Gram's that it's almost too good to be true. She got up early the next morning to finish them before church, and also made homemade blueberry muffins for breakfast.

After church, I took the kids out to the backyard to play on their new Slip-n-Slide while my wife prepared the burgers, brats, hot dogs, cheddar dogs, and corn for the grille (some day I'll share the corn recipe, because there is nothing better than real Indiana sweet corn prepared just right on the grille). As the kids splashed and laughed in the backyard, my wife had her second surprise in the works. I turned around as someone came out the patio doors and was shocked to see my brother and sister who had driven in from Cincinnati. Quite an unexpected, pleasant surprise. I hadn't seen my sister since my daughter's birthday party in May, and hadn't seen my brother since just after we bought our house in December.

My wife, never one to settle, wasn't done yet. She found a recipe for Sonic's Cherry Limeade and made a big punch bowl full of it. If you haven't had it, it is an incredible drink.

After grilling and eating, she gathered everyone into one place in the living room for me to open gifts. There were mostly gift cards to various bookstores (including Amazon), which as you probably know is perfect, because I am quite an avid reader.

My in-laws gave me an electronic dart board, which my son and I have played together the past two nights. He's actually doing quite well at throwing the darts and making them stick into the board. Pretty incredible for a four year old. Tonight we had a darts tournament, then went out for "the grand prize," which was a four-flavor Icee at Speedway.

My wife sprung her last big surprise on me after all the other gifts were open. She gave me an envelope that felt a bit thick. I opened the envelope and was shocked to find a reservation for this Sunday for a Richard Petty Ride-Along at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway (yes, the Brickyard). This coming Sunday, I'll be racing around one of the most famous race tracks in the world in a stock car, all decked out in racing gear, and probably won't be able to stop talking about it for weeks (unless, of course, the experience kills me).

You know, I'm not normally big on having a celebration for my own birthday. Not that I want to stop the aging process, or anything. I just don't want to see everyone go to such trouble for me. Hey, it's gonna happen every year until the day that I die, so what's the big deal, right?

Well, this year my wife made it a big deal. She made it a very special day for me, and I know she went through a great deal of planning and work to make it all just right. And when the plastic kolachie tragedy struck, she didn't miss a beat.

Pretty awesome day, pretty awesome wife.

Your comments?

Joe

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The Joe Show 73 - Memorial Day

New this week on

The Joe Show
featuring Average Joe American

Episode Seventy-Three: Memorial Day

carbon leaf | the war was in color | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

chris demarco | unknown soldier | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

joe colledge | american dream | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

kevin burdick | america | myspace
courtesy of ioda promonet

neil brian goldberg | born in america
courtesy of the podsafe music network

neil brian goldberg | remember america
courtesy of the podsafe music network

nico & the known | the cost of freedom | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

phil ayoub | white feather | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

ray younkin | america's sky | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

rick roark | remember me | myspace
courtesy of airplay direct

shawn cole | in the middle of nowhere | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

sweet crystal | in god we trust | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

taps

USED AS BACKGROUND MUSIC:

amazing grace

gary | american the beautiful | www
courtesy of the podsafe music network

when the army goes rolling along aka the army song

the halls of montezuma aka the marine corps hymn

Phone: (317) 644-6129
Email Feedback: joe@averagejoeamerican.us

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Average Joe Radio Show 53: Merry Christmas

New this week on
Average Joe Radio

Show Fifty-Three: Merry Christmas

Show 53 is posted early this week, in anticipation of sending my computer into the shop to have the system board and USB board replaced. Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!

Intro music provided by:

RICH PALMER: I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

LORD WEATHERBY: Santa Claus Is Freaking Me Out
Courtesy of Airplay Direct

THE GROOVE BARBERS: O Christmas Tree
Courtesy of IODA Promonet

BOB BURGER: Gonna Be Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

DAN THE AUTOMATOR: Jingle Bells Remix
Courtesy of IODA Alliance

LEE HARRIS: Citizens Band - The Day The Truckers Saved Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

BRENT BURNS: Santa's Gone NASCAR
Courtesy of Airplay Direct

JIMMIE BRATCHER: Man It's Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

SLAU: If Everyday Were Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

GEOFF SMITH: My Own Merry Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

MATTHEW EBEL: Christmas 2004 Live - Walk A Thousand Miles
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

JAY GOEPPNER: A Soldier's Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

KEVIN REEVES: Mother
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

RONNIE: Christmas Time of Year
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

WOODY PHILLIPS: The Twelve Days of Christmas
Courtesy of the IODA Promonet

GEOFF SMITH: Christmas Time Around The World
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

LITTLE THOM: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
Courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network

Artist Hotline: (317) 644-6129
Feedback Line: (206) 600-4JOE
Email Feedback: joe@averagejoeamerican.us

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Thankfulness: Family

Part two in my short Thanksgiving series about Thankfulness.

FAMILY

Thanksgiving has long been my favorite of holidays. I could list hundreds of reasons, which would take me all night to write and you all night to read it, so I'll trim this to just a few.

I love turkey. Really. And one of the biggest things I look forward to as the holiday season rolls around is that awesome turkey dinner. Oh, and the mashed potatoes, and rolls, and corn, and gravy, and on and on and on.

But most importantly, I love family, and Thanksgiving in my family was always a huge event, with all of the family gathering together for food, fun, and, well, more food.

My mother and grandmother used to work their fingers to the bones every year preparing for us the best possible Thanksgiving feast that love could prepare. Turkey with all the trimmings. And as much as I think of myself as a traditionalist, frankly I don't need all the trimmings. Just the staples for me, thank you.

After slaving and slaving in a hot kitchen all morning (and now I realize that might be a bit selfish of me to enjoy a holiday that required such hard work on the parts of Mom and Gram), we'd gather around the table around 1 o'clock for the feast of the year (bigger even than Christmas). Dad would ask God's blessing over the meal and the hands that prepared it, and we'd dig in, all of us in turn giving thanks for what we felt blessed with. Then we would eat. And eat. And eat (are you noticing a pattern here?).

After dinner, everyone would just BE. Yeah, just BEing is one of my favorite things to do. You know, you sit around, talk, watch TV, play games, whatever you want to do. Some of us would even take a [tryptophan induced] nap. But we would all just BE, and would BE together.

As the day progressed, every adult member of the family would get a small slip of paper, where they would write their name and a couple of ten to twenty dollar gift suggestions. The slips would all go into a hat, and each adult family member would then draw a name for the Christmas gift exchange. This helped to defray the cost of gift-giving, as the biggest gift we could give each other come Christmas was just BEing -- together, that is.

Mom's gone now. I remember her last Thanksgiving (and her last Christmas) with very mixed emotions. Very happy because we were all together once again for my favorite holiday. Very sad because we all knew -- though no one voiced it -- that it was probably Mom's last Thanksgiving. For while we were eating turkey and all trimmings, Mom was being eaten from the inside out by cancer, and the doctors couldn't seem to find it.

That was the last year I spent Thanksgiving with my family. The family I grew up with, I mean. Because being in Retail Management makes it very hard to work late the day before Thanksgiving prepping for the big Black Friday sales, then drive eight hours round trip on Thanksgiving day, then be back at work very early on Black Friday. Because my family -- I and my wife and children -- now spend every Thanksgiving with my in-laws, who live just across town. Because Thanksgiving will just never be the same without Mom. Nothing will.

So, this Thanksgiving, as with every day of the year, I am extremely thankful for Family. For Mom and Dad, Gram and Granddad, Sisters and Brother. For Sister and Brothers by Marriage. For Niece and Nephews. For Wife, Son, and Daughter. And yes, even for my in-laws. Because there is no one more important walking the earth than your Family.

Thank you, Family, just for BEing!

Joe

Joe Knows Jack!

Named one of c|net's Webware 100 for 2007, You Don't Know Jack, the original irreverant computer party game is back -- online!

I first played this game years ago, and found it quite addictive. I had long since forgotten about it until it popped up in the c|net Webware 100.

If you're a trivia nut, you owe it to yourself to give You Don't Know Jack a chance. Each episode takes roughly ten minutes to play. You can create a profile that will keep track of your scores and compare your results to those of other player.

Think you know trivia? Buddy, You Don't Know Jack!

Joe

First Flight

Our little girl, who just turned one year old last Thursday, took her first solo steps today! With a little prodding and coaching from mom and dad (and her big brother), she took as many as five steps from daddy to mommy with no assistance (other than daddy being prepared to catch her should she fall). She repeatedly took from two to four solo steps between mom, dad, and brother, before deciding it was time for her afternoon nap. It was a pretty exciting event!

Joe

Baby Birthdays

My little girl turned one year old yesterday. It seems like just yesterday she was born. I took a few days of vacation to be home with the family -- and to make sure I don't miss my daughter's birthday.

We packed up the whole family yesterday and went to the Indianapolis Zoo. It was my daughter's first trip to the zoo, and she really seemed to love the carousel and the Dolphin Tank. She smiled so big while riding the carousel with her mommy, and she couldn't quit jabbering and pointing at the dolphins swimming over and around us in the Dolphin Tank.

She also had ice cream for the first time at Maggie Moo's. It's the same place we took our son for his first taste of ice cream on his first birthday. If you haven't tried Maggie Moo's ice cream, and there's one near you, you really should give it a try. It is absolutely the creamiest, richest (though not too rich) ice cream I have ever eaten. And I've only had it twice -- on my kids first birthdays. Maybe that makes it just a little more special.

Tomorrow is the big birthday part at the park. My wife rented a building and is making the cake herself. I have to say, my wife makes some beautiful, delicious cakes, so I'm really looking forward to it. She's been working on it for about a week now, and it promises to be something really special. We're hoping that the family will all be there for this once-in-a-lifetime event.

Joe

Simpler Times

It's been a little while since there's been a real post here. There's been more podcasting than anything else lately. Sorry, it's just become an enjoyable hobby.

And things have been so hectic at work lately that it's hard to find any time to sit down and actually write. In fact, I'm writing this on my Palm Tungsten T3 while my son plays in the bath tub. I guess I just have to take the time where I can get it.

Hopefully I'll be getting a little more of it soon. I start a (short) vacation on Thursday, which just happens to be my daughter's first birthday. Wow! It's hard to believe that a year has gone by already. She's gotten so big and is almost walking. And my son is getting bigger and smarter every day.

With the kids growing so quickly, and so much going wrong in the world every day, it's hard not to be a little concerned sometimes. Concerned for the well-being of my kids. Concerned about what the world will be like when they become young adults. Concerned that some idiot could shoot them down before they even have the chance to become young adults.

Bloody April has had two new casualties: two people shot to their deaths in a mall in Kansas. For what reason? That could have been any two people -- like my two kids.

We do everything we can to protect them, but you can only do so much before your efforts become over-protective and you actually do them more harm than good.

I know that every parent throughout history has had these concerns -- and it may have been the innocence of my youth -- but I don't remember ever being so concerned about my own safety as a kid. Times just seemed to be so much simpler back then.

Joe

Opportunities Not Taken

Sometimes, it's amazing how things work out in life. Have you ever considered how the choices you've made throughout your life have impacted who and what you are today?

Driving to work today, somehow, my mind started wondering to just such a thing. I was thinking about the Ohio State Buckeyes playing tonight for a spot in the NCAA Championship game. I thought of how I once had thoughts of attending Ohio State.

I grew up in Cincinnati, and the college that I had always been interested in attending was Ohio State University. After graduating from high school, I took a year of working before making any major life decisions. I graduated at the age of 17, so it didn't seem to be a waste of time to spend a year deciding what I really wanted to do with my life. Did I want to go to college? Where? Or did I want to do something else?

The answer turned out to be both. I wanted to go to college, but I didn't plan my high school career out as well as I could (and should) have, so I was not offered any scholarships. And I never thought it would be right for me to ask or expect my parents to foot the bill for me. So I had to come up with some cash to go to college.

Back then, in the Reagan era, there was one simple way to earn college money: The Army College Fund and Montgomery GI Bill. So I enlisted for three years in the Active Duty Army, for $35,000 in college money.

Eight years later, I finally came home. Eight years, and a lot of life. I had made many choices during those eight years, some stupid, and some maybe not so stupid. I reenlisted once -- for another three years -- and extended my enlistment twice for an additional year each time. The Army took me to Germany for three years, and it was a good experience.

But when I came back home, five years later than I had originally anticipated, everything was different. After such a long absence from school, I couldn't even picture myself starting college at the age of 26. Plus, I had to have full-time employment -- I really couldn't ask my parents to support me at that age!

So I never made it to Ohio State. Or any other college. And I was thinking about that this morning, and you know how that goes some times -- you find yourself wondering What If?

While I was in Basic Training in the Army, my instructors were so impressed with my entrance exam scores that they asked me to take another exam. It was the strangest test I have taken in all of my life. I basically found myself trying to interpret a made up language with very little knowledge of what the made up language was supposed to be. That's right, it was a linguistics test.

The shocking part was that I scored so well on the linguistics test that they wanted to send me to USMAPS -- the United States Military Academy Prep School. The plan was that I would then go on to West Point -- the United States Military Academy -- probably the most distinguished military academy in the country. At West Point, I would spend five years learning to become an Army Officer. I would then go to a different specialty school than I had enlisted for -- I would spend up to three years training in linguistics, learning Russian, or whatever other language(s) the Army needed me to learn.

After roughly ten years of training, I would have a five-year service commitment to pay my country back for my college education at West Point. Fifteen years: that's some commitment to hit an 18-year-old kid with during his first month in the military.

This morning I was thinking about my career now, and how different life would be if I had been an Officer in the Army with training as a linguistics expert. It seems I might be making considerably more money, and be better able to provide for my family.

Then it hit me: what family? It was my retail career that relocated me from Cincinnati to Indiana, where I met my wife and started the family that means the world to me today. What would have brought me to Indiana if I was a linguistics expert? Certainly not relocating to grand open a new retail store.

If I had taken that unbelievably great opportunity some twenty years ago, I don't know where I would be today, but I know where I would probably not be. I would probably not be in Indiana. I would most likely have never met my wife, with whom I am raising the two most wonderful kids the world has ever seen.

So you see, sometimes a good thing might not be as good as it sounds. Some times you have to pass up some great opportunities in life if you want to stumble onto the opportunity of a lifetime. There is no job in the world that could be more important than being a good Daddy to my kids and helping my beautiful wife nurture them into fine adults some day.

So don't be too quick to jump for the money when opportunity comes knocking, because sometimes the real opportunity is just around the corner, and if you answer the door too soon, you might not even be home when your life shows up to meet you.

Joe

Christmas Spirit

As Christmas draws near, I find myself more taken by the spirit of Christmas this year than I have been in many years. It's been quite some time since I actually felt Christmassy (is that even a word?) at Christmas time, and it's a good feeling to have again.

I left home at eighteen and served eight years in the Active Duty Army. Eight years away from home every Christmas sure felt like a long time. Care packages sent from my Mother and Grandmother helped to make it Christmas for me.

Upon returning home from the Army twelve years ago, I started a career in Retail Management because it was convenient at the time. A major electronics retailer had offered me a position six months earlier during a military-sponsored job fair in Wurzburg, Germany, on the understanding that I would begin upon separation from the Army. During twelve years in Retail Management I have grown accustomed to working extra hours and longer days during the peak shopping season from Thanksgiving to Christmas. This has often meant less time spent with family.

This isn't the first Christmas since my Mother passed away. But it's something I'll never get used to. Mom was the magnetic force that kept the family together. As a family -- and probably individually, as well -- we have not been the same since she left us. I often personally chastise myself for all the time I wasted away from my family during the holidays, forgetting (as it is so easy to do) that we are all only here for a short while.

My Mother is no longer with us. She has received the Ultimate Reward. And my family rarely gets together under one roof all at the same time. But I have a new family now. I have a beautiful wife and two wonderful children. I can't give them everything for Christmas, but I can give them something that has come to mean everything to me: Time. It's what Mom would want.

Joe

Thankfulness

Among the many things that I already listed for which I'm thankful, there's one thing to add.

Four years ago today, in a quiet little bed and breakfast, with our closest friends and family watching, my wife and I were united in Marriage. Without her, most of what makes me happy and thankful today would not be possible.

Happy Anniversary to my beautiful wife, and Thank You for making my life complete.

Here are some excerpts from our wedding story:

November 23, 2002 Our Wedding Day Saturday 7:53 am Lots to do today before the wedding, but it really shouldn’t take me that long to get it done. I’m going to get started now, though, by packing up my bags for the trip. 9:01 am She just called me. She seems to have forgotten the pictures of how she wants her hair to be done for the wedding. I have to try to round them up for her and take them to her parents’ house with the makeup that she forgot to get out of the car last night. At the rate she’s forgetting things, I hope she doesn’t forget about the wedding! 10:44 am After dropping off the dogs at the vet for boarding, I drove out to her parents’ to drop off the makeup she left in the car last night and to pick up her engagement ring so I’ll have it to put on her finger tonight with her wedding ring. Then I stopped and vacuumed and washed the car on the way home, topped it off with gas, and threw away the Halloween pumpkins that were on the front porch (they clashed with the new Christmas decorations). I also called the Cake Decorator before washing the car to make sure everything was going according to plan. She said she was running a little behind, but she had originally planned to be here around noon, so that won’t be a big deal. For the most part, it looks like things are coming along quite nicely. 11:28 pm I just talked to my bride-to-be again. I found her pictures for her hair appointment, so I have to take them to the Bed & Breakfast for her mom to pick up by noon. I guess I’ll go get the food, and film, and everything else while I’m out. 12:03 pm I'm at the Bed & Breakfast, just set up the camcorder for tonight, and the cake decorator just called, so I'm waiting for her. 12:33 pm The cake made it. I think it looks okay, but I also think she'll be a little disappointed with it. I hope she doesn't let it upset her. Time to go pick up the food. 1:52 pm I think my pre-ceremony running around is done. I picked up the food at Sam’s Club, plus a dozen roses for bride and several rolls of film for our trip. I called her mom to have her meet me outside the meadows to deliver the roses while she gets her hair done. I raced home, made a little card to put with the roses that said: Today you make my life complete. Today all my dreams come true. I trimmed the roses, put them in a vase, stuck the card in, and rushed off to meet her mom. After handing off the roses, I took the food to the bed & breakfast, paid them for the place, and wrote another note that said: It’s almost time. I can’t wait! They put it in her changing room on her dress so she’ll find it when she gets there to get ready for the wedding. 2:58 pm She just called to tell me she was on her way to the Bed & Breakfast. She asked me if the cake looked good, and I said, “Yeah, I think it looks pretty good.” Of course, she knows me well enough by now to know exactly what she said back, “Okay, that doesn’t sound good.” I told her it could look a little better, but it looked pretty good. Of course, I’m sure when she sees it she’ll be disappointed. I wish there was something I could do to make everything go perfectly for her. God knows I’ve tried. 3:05 pm I feel terrible about the cake. I know that when I saw it, I was a little disappointed. I know that if I was a little disappointed, she'll probably be very disappointed. I just hope she’s able to keep everything in perspective and realizes what really matters today. I just shaved, but I feel like I can’t take my shower yet, because I kind of expect her to call me after she sees the cake. I won’t be a bit surprised if she calls, and she’s in tears, and she says she doesn’t even want to get married now, because her cake has been ruined, too. I have to be ready to do the best I can to calm and soothe her because, of course, we will be getting married today. I just wish she wouldn’t even look at the cake until time to cut it. She’s on her way over there now, so she will be seeing it soon, if she hasn’t seen it already. I may call her in a couple of minutes before she has a chance to call me. 3:18 pm She called. She was crying. She was very upset. She says the cake looks terrible, and she doesn’t even want it there. She wants me to try to find another cake, or maybe even not have a cake at all. She said that nothing is the way she wants it to be, and ended up saying she doesn’t want this at all. She hung up with her mom in the background trying to calm her down. November 28, 2002 Thanksgiving Thursday 9:12 pm We returned home last night from our honeymoon in Gatlinburg. It was quite nice. her parents sent us as a wedding gift. The wedding, after all, turned out beautiful. She was the most gorgeous bride! She got over her fit over the wedding cake and everything went well. Our wedding/honeymoon video tells the rest of the story. We've both been so happy this past week. So far, life is good.

Joe

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"If you haven't got all the things you want, be grateful for the things you don't have that you don't want." -- Unknown

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is considered by most to be the start of the holiday season. Every year when the holidays roll around, I start to miss my family. My mother and grandmother, who are both gone now, were like the Super Glue that bonded my family into a unit. Every year they'd prepare a huge turkey feast with all the trimmings, and four generations would gather together and give thanks for all that we had. I don't remember any of my siblings, my nephews, or my neice ever complaining about having to spend the entire day with family. It was just something we all did.

Now I have a family of my own -- a wife and two kids -- and my family -- the one I grew up with -- lives nearly four hours away. My wife's family lives fifteen minutes away, and we spend every holiday with them. I don't get from them the same sense of unity -- of togetherness -- that I felt with my family growing up. There's just something missing there -- I can't really describe it. To me, it just doesn't feel like Thanksgiving should feel.

Tomorrow, as Amercians around the world celebrate Thanksgiving in their own way (and did you ever notice that even atheists and agnostics find some reason to get together for turkey and trimmings on Thanksgiving day every year -- I'll never understand that one), my family and I will be with my wife's family, while my brother and sisters, nephews and neice, and grandfather gather together some four hours away. I guess it's a time to make new traditions.

There are many things that I am thankful for, and since that's what this day (tomorrow) is all about, here are a few of them:

My wife, whom -- though we seem to disagree quite often -- I love with all of my heart.
My children, both of whom are healthy and happy.
My country, which -- without question -- is the greatest land on God's green Earth.
Freedom.
My career -- which provides me the means to provide for my family.
Memories, and the people who have helped me to make them.
The future -- as uncertain as it might be.

Here's hoping that you and yours have a safe, loving, memory-making Happy Thanksgiving!

Joe

Nothing But Net

It can't all be about politics.

My son's fall basketball season came to an end tonight, and he was presented with his first ever trophy at just three years old. It was a pretty exciting event (maybe more for me than it was for him).

The picture is a bit grainy, but I had to snap it with short notice using my Palm Pilot, so I'm lucky I got the picture at all.

His winter basketball season will be starting up soon. It's amazing how much he has improved in just eight weeks. Tonight he actually made his first in-game basket ever! He can hit the basket in practice, but has always passed the ball during a game rather than shooting. Tonight he took his first shot and -- SWOOSH! -- nothing but net!

I'm so proud of him! And to think I almost didn't make it there in time tonight.

Joe
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Butterflies in the Rain

Have you ever seen a butterfly in the rain? By nature, butterflies must remain in shelter when it rains. The weight of the raindrops on their wings makes it impossible for them to fly when it's raining. So, have you ever seen a butterfly fly in the rain? I have.

My mother passed away at the relatively young age of fifty-eight. After battling for nearly a year with an enemy the doctors were unable to diagnose, my mother succumbed to cancer. She was misdiagnosed with "mini-strokes" and kidney failure, and a number of minor conditions, while the cancer ravaged her, spreading through her body until a healthy internal organ did not exist.

Before her passing, we all had the chance to say our goodbyes. Not much of a chance, as the diagnosis of cancer was followed quite rapidly by her passing, but we all had the chance to express our love for her and say "goodbye." We were at peace with it, because she was a Godly woman -- a Christian -- who secured her place in Heaven decades ago.

Her final moments on this Earth were spent with family. All four of her children, their spouses, and three grandchildren were at her bedside when she drew her last breath. It's an experience I'll never forget but don't plan to get into now.

Mom touched so many lives that her funeral was standing room only and over a thousand people paid their last respects during the visitation the day before. In accordance with her wishes, after a brief private, family-only viewing, the visitation and funeral were closed-casket. We placed into the casket before it was sealed a poem I wrote for her and some of her favorite things: Wise potato chips, Reese peanut butter cups, Clorets gum, and an iris. Her family was the last to see her off once again. There was no graveside service.

Later that day, my wife and I paid a visit to the cemetery, where we placed some more of her favorite things: fresh flowers and silk butterflies. Mom always loved butterflies.

As you'll recall, just over two months ago I was involved in a rather lucky auto accident. Lucky because I survived without a scratch. I lost traction in the pouring down rain. The back of the car spun 270 degrees as I slid across the roadway and into the ditch on the opposite side. Upon contact with the solid ground that rose up from the ditch into a cornfield, the car began to roll. I believe it only rolled once, but it's hard to be certain -- I was a bit disoriented afterwards.

I did have my wits about me enough to jump from the car immediately when it came to a stop. I guess it's a good thing I wasn't injured, because that couldn't have been helpful. I flagged down a passing motorist who -- though they wouldn't let me in their car in the driving rain -- was kind enough to let me use a cell phone to call 911.

It wasn't until after the Sheriff's Deputy arrived that I was able to locate my own cell phone. It was lying in a puddle of water in the grass with a book I had been reading and the Palm Pilot I'm writing this on now. As I gathered up my scattered belongings, I looked into the car for anything that I might need to secure before leaving it with the wrecker company. I opened the back passenger door and the most beautiful Monarch butterfly buzzed past my face as it escaped the vehicle. At the time I wondered how it got into the car, but dismissed it to the shattered front passenger door window. It's only now, almost three months later, as the rain beats the pavement outside once again, that it comes back to haunt me. How did that butterfly manage to fly in a downpour? Where did it come from? And how did it get into the car? And when?

Or was it not really a butterfly at all? Could it have been an Angel of Mercy sent to shield me from harm? Sent in the form of something that was so dear to mother?

Joe

The Unexplainable Engineer

When my wife was eight years old, she had a frightening brush with the unexplained.

She was lying in bed one night in a dark bedroom. Her bedroom was in the front of the house, off the living room, while her brother's was in the attic and her parents slept in the addition -- down the hall, around the corner, through the family room, and down a longer hall -- completely out of earshot.

Shortly after everyone else had gone to bed, my wife looked up from her pillow to see the head of a man peering around the corner from the hallway. Frightened as an eight-year-old would be, she closed her eyes.

If you've ever had children, you know that they go through a stage where they believe that you can't see them if they can't see you. So they close their eyes when they play hide-n-seek and hide right out in the open, thinking you can't see them because their eyes are closed. It was similar reasoning that caused my then-young future wife to think the man would go away -- if she couldn't see him he couldn't harm her.

Upon opening her eyes a few moments later she discovered something more frightening: the man was standing fully in the doorway looking into the room. He was not a tall man, but not particularly short, either. She couldn't make out his age for his hair was covered by a hat -- the hat of a railroad engineer -- matching the rest of his clothing.

She closed her eyes again and thrust the covers over her head, hoping once again that this intruder-engineer would disappear. Why children don't scream or call out for help in such situations, I'll never understand. I guess sometimes you can just be too frightened to think the situation through that rationally.

Several minutes later she opened her eyes with the covers still over her head and listened: silence. Hoping for the safety of an empty room, she slowly pulled the covers down from her face and peered around. He was no longer in the doorway. Relieved, she slowly began to sit up and look around the room. Where she saw him again. At the corner of the foot of her bed. With a muffled whimper, she dove back beneath the covers, where she cried herself to sleep.

A week later, my wife found herself and her family at the home of her maternal great-grandmother. She had said nothing about the railroad engineer to anyone. In fact, she wasn't sure if it had actually happened or been a dream.

Until after lunch, while the women of the family were gathered in the dining room and the men in the family room, she overheard a conversation. Her great-grandmother was relaying a dream she had to the other women. A dream that involved a railroad engineer sneaking into her room in the middle of the night.

Joe

Grandfather's Last Request

circa 1970

I was just a very young child when my maternal grandfather passed away after losing his battle with cancer. I have very vague memories of him, but have been told by my family that he treated me as if I was very special to him. I like to think that is true.

At the time of his illness, my family did not attend church anywhere. I don't know what denomination my grandfather labeled himself as, but my grandmother was Methodist, so I have to assume that he was as well. He had tried for years to get my parents to start taking us all to church. As he came closer to the end of his battle with cancer, his pleadings became increasingly more urgent. They continued to go unheeded. When he passed away, we still were not attending church.

* * *

My father has always been a man of many talents. Many of which he has allowed to go greatly underutilized. One such talent, that would probably surprise many people who have known him, is a surprising ability to paint. To this very day, I have several oil paintings that he did when I was young. One such painting is of my maternal great-grandparents. My father painted it from a photograph, and it is uncannily realistic.

As I was growing up, I remember this particular painting hanging on the dining room wall of my childhood home. There was another painting my father did from a photograph hanging on the living room wall over the television set: a painting of the grandfather I never really got to know. Beneath this painting, sitting on top of the television, was a clock. It was a small clock styled after it's much larger cousin, the grandfather clock, with pendulum, chimes -- the whole works.

* * *

One day, an unknown number of years after my grandfather's passing (unknown to me, because I have very vague memories of my grandfather but rather vivid memories of what follows), my family was gathered in the house. It must have been a weekend day, because on any given day during the week there would have been hardly anyone home. I remember that the majority of the family -- if not all of us -- were home on this particular day.

We were in the living room watching television -- my dad sitting in his chair, my mother in her's, and I lying on the living room floor in front of the television set. I'm unsure where the rest of the family was, but I'm nearly certain they were all in the house some place.

As we were watching television, there came a rather loud ka-thunk from behind the television set. Startled, we all tried to find the source of the sound. I believe it was my father who first discovered that a picture had fallen from the wall. It was the painting of my grandfather. There had been no apparent cause for the painting to fall from the wall. The windows and door were all closed, eliminating the possibility of any draft. The cats were nowhere to be found.

* * *

This occurred on at least one other occasion, to my knowledge. Again, I remember it as the entire family being home at the time. This time, however, the painting fell from the wall as my father watched. As he later described it, the painting first moved away from the wall just the slightest bit, hovered, then fell. On neither occassion was there any damage to the painting or the frame that held it.

* * *

Such a thing occurring once, with no real eyewitness to the event (we were all just ear-witnesses the first time, so to speak), wasn't much cause for concern. Stranger things have happened. The second time it happened, with my father looking on at the very strange behavior of the painting, presented cause for a bit of concern. But I have no knowledge of the painting ever jumping from it's home over the television after that.

But that wasn't the end of the strange occurrences. You'll remember the clock I mentioned earlier. The miniature grandfather-style clock that sat on top of the television, beneath the jumpy painting. Again, with the majority of the family in the house, and several of us gathered in the living room watching television, we found ourselves dumbstruck. This small grandfather-style clock, weighing enough to require a two-handed lift, went crashing to the floor beside the television. By "crashing," I refer only to the sound the clock made when it struck the carpeted flooring, because it -- like the painting -- sustained no damage.

* * *

Again, that wasn't the end of it. I don't recall how many times this relatively weighty grandfather-style clock went strolling across the television set and diving off, but someone in my family -- I unfortunately cannot remember whom, though I would have to guess that it was my father again -- witnessed this stange occurrence on one occassion. As it was later described, this heavyish clock actually rose from the surface of the television's top just the slightest bit and began moving toward the edge of the set. Ever so slowly it made the trek to the edge of the set and beyond, hovered, then dropped to the floor -- again sustaining no damage.

* * *

As I've said, I don't know exactly how many times the grandfather-style clock took a dive. And I don't know the time span of these events that occurred with the painting and the clock -- I was a very young child of the age when the only meaning the word "time" has is when it's prefixed with "bed-" or "dinner-." But I do know that these strange events did end. They ended when my parents found a church that they felt comfortable with and began taking the family every Sunday.

I can't say that the ending of these strange events and the beginning of a long life of going to church three times a week are connected. I can't say that these strange events are related to my grandfather's long-suffering attempts to get us into a church. I can only say that, at the very least, they are quite coincidental.

* * *

If I remember correctly, the painting I described above -- the one of my mother's father -- currently resides in my brother's possession. I would be surprised if he actually has it hanging on a wall somewhere.

I don't know what happened to the clock.

Joe

Reader Comments

Reader Comments on Childhood Innocence:

Anonymous said...

Yesterday, my youngest child turned 18 years old.

Just last week he was 1 year old and we were putting together his first Halloween costume.

I suspect that in less than a year he will be in Parris Island, SC training to be a U.S. Marine (his dream for many years now).

Those 18 years have gone by very, very fast.

I believe you are right about your calendar. Put it away. Take out the camera. Enjoy every moment, good and bad.

Next week, he will turn 18 years old.