Sleep In

To my son Tommy,

What kid sleeps in past 7:30 am on Christmas Day and will probably have to be roused from his dreams of sugar plum fairies? My son!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leopard 

Joy and Sorrow

To my son Tommy,

Science often struggles with seemingly contradictory items or states existing at the same time in the same space. In fact, you only have to look at two of the biggest ideas, quantum mechanics and relativity, to see the conundrum presented when they try to reconcile what they know of each to the other.

The heart, however, has no problem existing in two or more states at any one time, even if science or our own brains can't always reconcile this. 

Take the feelings felt during Christmas. We feel joy and that is expected. But amongst the delight and exhilaration of the holidays, we also feel sorrow for the loss of those that have gone before us. Happiness and grief existing in the same heart simultaneously. Each tear that rolled from my eyes was filled with joy and sorrow, hopes and fears, love and pain, and we don't have to overthink it or understand it at all. 

Merry Christmas to all, those with us here and present, and those with us in our hearts forevermore.

Repercussions

To my son Tommy,

I am not sure what Lego Ned Flanders did, but it must have been bad. Poor Ned has to realize there are consequences and repercussions for doing things with bones. It is like a conservative conundrum, the NRA vs the ultra conservative holier than thou Christian. 

The amount of money that I'd spend to stay one day with total uninhibited acces in that imagination of yours would be quite large indeed.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Better With Age

To my son Tommy,

Some people scoff at stuff that is old. They say it is aged and outdated. But here you are, enthralled, watching my old Cloak and Dagger tape on an outdated VHS technology. Story trumps all and even a simple straight forward kids spy plot can captivate a six year old and a forty one year old.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Monday Selfie

To my son Tommy,

I am not sure if you can tell by the picture, but you can tell it is a Monday when somehow you put on your button down shirt inside out. Not sure I even have the strength, desire, or will to change it. There will be days like this, my son, oh so many (too many) days like this.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Tree Is Up

To my son Tommy,

The tree is up (much kudos to your mom as always) just in time for the twelve days of Christmas countdown. The train is around the base of the tree and runs without hitch. With the way we chose to set up, we get to decorate all the way around the tree rather than the limitations of a tree stuck in a corner. We still are working I the crèche and scenes and statues.

When moving, there is no act quite so significant that makes a new home feel like YOUR home than setting up a Christmas tree. Even if the rest of your new place is in a state of flux and semi disarray, set up your tree.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Day Off

To my son Tommy,

Taking the day off from work today. After working 88+ hours this week, I need to disconnect. During this long work week I learned that software roll outs suck eggs and I have some amazing coworkers who will work long hours with me to help me and our company right.

Anyway, I slept in to 5:40 today, which is about two hours of sleeping in for me compared to the last three weeks. I tried to sleep till later, but my body has adapted to the early hours now. Anyways I decided to do some chores.

As I was straightening the basement, I came upon this little school project pictured above. It says, "If I were a scarecrow, I would guard some money and guard the crops." Evidently my bank needs more scarecrows to protect money! I would say my wallet needs a pocket scarecrow, but I think I have more crops than money in my wallet. I like the crow the best.

Sincerely with love from dad,

Leo

Don't Wait For Rock Bottom

To my son Tommy,

Some people say you have to hit rock bottom before things change. Some say you have to just ride the downside of the roller coaster before you can climb to its peaks again. The problem with this is, in life at least, the lowest point is subjective. There is no hard firm rock bottom while you live, as things can always get worse. That last part is worth repeating. THINGS CAN ALWAYS GET WORSE! Especially if you are waiting around for them to get worse before you do anything to make them better!

Take for example my perception of my life the past month or so. I was/am in the middle of a software roll out from Hades. If something could go wrong with this (now) million dollar changeover, it has and continues to. Over budget? Yep. Missed deadlines? Yep. Unfulfilled promises? Yep. etc. etc. And of course with this goes with all the other things in life we are already dealing with. Between medical, and moving, and family, and your school, and check engine lights, and finances, poor contractor work in the basement, and everything else that you can think of, in addition to my workload ...let's just say that most people would say "What could get worse?"

How about a scare of bladder cancer? That would make it worse. Your Poppop Frazier had that happened to him, which in turn happens to us. They found what they thought to be a tumor in the bladder on your Poppop and they were going to have to do a biopsy. Your mom said to me that she has faith that God will just not give us anymore to handle because we already have enough. She in essence believes we are at rock bottom already and that the news will have to turn out alright because how much more can we take. I had my doubts, in God, in rock bottom, in things turning out for the best.

So the pathology comes in. It is negative, which is a good thing, negative for cancer. And a couple things in work seemed to start going alright. Not great, but showing promise. Maybe there is something to this rock bottom thing. Maybe finally God is looking down on this lowly ant in his ant farm and saying enough already. Upswing here I come!

Wrong. Cut to this week. We went live on this software change out. Of course one whole area of the data migration was not done, so at least four departments of my company couldn't do anything. Your Grandpa Leo got his MRI results back and the brain tumor is growing but the doctors tried to explain it away as scar tissue healing in the inside of the tumor from where the laser was aimed at it, but I am not sure if I buy their gooey liquid inside jelly bean concept. Your mom got her MREnterography results and her gastro doctor tells her that the crohn's disease is pretty spread and he has throw his hands in the air and has no idea what to do for her except more surgery. This is has me worried and more importantly your mom worried, frustrated, and depressed. Oh and she has pneumonia with her compromised immune system brought to you by the drugs she is taking for crohns that obviously aren't working. You are under the weather as well and have an ear infection going on and a cough that you have been on for antibiotics. I am working sixteen plus hours a day (holidays and weekends included) to salvage this software roll out from the brink of utter failure as is your Great Aunt who is right there beside me trying to save it.

So we fell through that rock bottom of a few weeks ago like it was a hole in the third floor of a non OSHA approved work site. Now, I can wallow and wait for the other shoe to drop. Wait for life to throw more at me that is in or out of my control. Or I can just keep on keeping on and do something to make today better. If you are falling from the top of a one hundred foot tree and try to grab each branch along the way, you probably will continue falling but may survive the landing. If you are falling from the top of that same tree and grab the first branch and it breaks and you say it isn't worth the effort and decide to just wait till you hit bottom before doing anything about it? Well good luck with surviving that.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

What You Like To Learn About In School

To my son Tommy,

You made your dentist cry the other day, but in a good way. You see the world right now seems to be in constant turmoil. There were a bunch of terrorist attacks across the globe (Paris got the most press but also in places like Beirut and Baghdad) that have filled many with despair. It is tough to see the good in this world when all that is shown to us, be it through media or propaganda, is hate and terror and war and death. We all need hope, a glimmer of light, something to hold onto.

According to your mom, your dentist asked you "What do you most like learning about in school?" most likely expecting an answer like math or reading or dinosaurs.

You told her sincerely, "I like learning about Jesus."

It made the dentist tear up. She explained (before excusing herself to compose herself) that with all the bad in this world, with all the things that are going wrong, she needed something to restore her faith and hope for humanity. She said she really needed that. And like a little flower that dares grow first in that small thaw patch in the snow after a long hard desolate winter, your answer supplied that hope.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Little Blue Boy

To my son Tommy,

Little boy blue come blow your horn. The sheep are in the meadow, the cows are in the corn.

One of the great things about cleaning up the basement is finding my old treasures. Here you are trying to call to the cows using my old bugle. A quick lesson in embouchure and you were blowing away.  Think you even got two different notes out. Not too shabby.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Anniversary Number Seven

To my son Tommy,

Today is your mommy and my anniversary! You know what grandiose plans we have? Let me list them out so you have ideas of how to spend a joyous anniversary.

• Get the chairs to the dining room table up to the Marriottsville house.
• Sand two wall areas and finish painting them.
• Organize the back basement.
• Screw on all the wall plates for the electric box.
• Make a scenic view for your new room.
• Mopping yet again to get the dust and grout off the floor.

What? Doesn't sound like a way to celebrate an anniversary? Listen, marriage is work. Marriage is hard work. And an anniversary celebrates this hard work, today with more hard work. Sure we will try to steal away some time for ourselves, but in the same sense the time we spend working together is time for ourselves. Among the typical work filled day for us, if you throw in a few times saying "Happy Anniversary" and a couple extra times saying "I love you" and maybe a "Holy crap we made it seven years" you have our anniversary. And that is okay for us.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Glasses

To my son Tommy,

If anything could be considered inevitable, you needing glasses some day tops that list. Your mother needs glasses; your father needs glasses; your grandparents need glasses; you come from a long line of glasses wearers. Barring any super scientific gene correction ocular therapy procedure, you are going to be sporting the spectacles, more likely sooner than later. In fact, you put on my glasses today and then said you could read the letters on the television better. I know they say you should never wear another persons prescription glasses in fear of damage to your eyesight, but they also say if you make faces you might get your face stuck like that. They lie to you. Anyways, last year the eye doctor said you could hold off on glasses. We have another annual appointment coming soon. When we took the picture of you, you laughed and said you looked funny and different. You might have your own pair of glasses sooner than you think.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Bright Idea

To my son Tommy,

Mommy and I had this bright idea to let you pick your own color of paint for your own room. Perhaps that was too bright of an idea. You picked what you described as Oriole Orange, what Valspar describes as Island Orange, and what we describe as Construction Safety Orange. Well it is never too early for you to learn that you may have to live with the consequences of your choices!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

The Next Guy

To my son Tommy,

If you want someone to clean up your mess who will do so carefully with as much consideration as you would, then you have to clean up your own mess.

To the next guy, it doesn't mean what it would to you. To the next guy it is just junk and he is pissed off that he has to clean up after you. The next guy doesn't know or care about your best intentions when he has to clean up an unfinished project. The next guy doesn't consider your dream or vision as he cleans up. The next guy doesn't know how much it cost or how much time and effort you put into it. Even if the next guy is the most compassionate and considerate and comes at the clean up with the most delicate touch and best intentions, he will still make mistakes. The only one who will care as much as you, is you.

When I clean up your mess, things get thrown out that I think are trash. Unfinished Lego projects (or even finished ones from time to time) left on the floor are broken down to fit back in a Lego box. Drawings you left around might end up in the recycling. I don't know if this sword is from a teenage mutant ninja turtle or some other pantheon of characters so it might end up in the wrong box, and "lost" forever. You see, I am the next guy.

When Mommy runs the vacuum cleaner, and the vacuum makes that tell tale rattle of a small toy piece, she doesn't think twice. If it was important, it would have been cleaned up already. When we clean out the car, and throw out that special rock that you saved, if it was important you would have moved it somewhere safe. This might seem harsh, especially when talking about a first grader, but this is a tough learned lesson that will happen throughout your life.

You got problems in your department at work? And someone has to come in and fix your department? They are going to change and move and adjust and throw out things without any consideration for you. They are there to clean up the mess and the fact that you put so much effort into this or that means nothing to them. They just know what you were doing as a whole was not working. So they throw out the good with the bad. They don't want to have to be there, and you don't want them there, but because you left a mess that needs cleaning or fixing, there they are. And they will put in senseless rules and senseless solutions to fix the mess and make more of a mess and there is no one to blame but yourself. Just ask any VA employee.

We are going through this with the move dealing with two households of "collecting" junk. We try our hardest to be considerate and compassionate, but unfinished projects, un-given presents, unused supplies, etc., all junk to me. I don't care that it was bought nine years ago to hang in this one spot, if it was important it would have been hung. I don't care that you could write on the backside of this half used old paper, it is taking up space. If it is so important, how did you live without it for the twenty years while it was boxed up downstairs? I don't care about the vision of how it could be used or how it was used in the past. I bring my own visions and my own feelings and my own memories and my own sense of value. They aren't going to be the same as other peoples. I have seen too many times all those "valuables" selling on a table for twenty five cents at an estate sale.

Will really valuable items be thrown out because I don't know their real value? Sure. I was stopped in my efforts to donate some clothes because evidently I was donating a thirty year old burberry jacket that is probably worth one thousand dollars. I didn't know, and if it was so valuable, why was it stuck in the closet downstairs in my old bedroom that I had to gut to get ready for the move in. Of course, I left my donation project unfinished at that moment, but I think someone else, the next guy, came by and completed the donation. So some lucky St Vincent De Paul beneficiary is walking around in style! Didn't fit any of us, anyhow. Got an old Apple IIe computer (and an old Texas Instruments computer and an old Atari) that I am about to throw out. Probably worth money some where to someone who collects vintage computer stuff...but I don't have time to look it up and it is taking up space. Out it goes. Then there is the priceless, which is a code word that means junk with no real value other than sentimental. Yep, some of that might go too. Will I have to go spend real money to replace something that we will find out we really did need a couple months after I throw it out? Probably! But oh well.

So if you want to keep your toys, if you want to keep your future jobs, if you want to keep your priceless mementos, clean up your own mess. Make sure everything is kept orderly and neat so the next guy sees that someone cares or at least cared at one time. Because in the end, you can't take any of this crap with you. My next guy is going to be you when you inherit all my crap. My advice to you, quickly make the garbage collector the next guy in the chain. For hopefully I will have passed on something more important to you. And those items at my estate sale?...well that is just things, material things. Take a picture of it, share a memory, and off it goes. Then look for what was really left to you and hopefully you will know that you were and still are loved.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Can I Pee Please? Jeez!

To my son Tommy,

"Come on. Homework out of your book bag! Let's get this done!" I barked soon after getting home yesterday.

"Can I pee please? Jeez!" you responded with the attitude of a teenager.

Let me tell you, it is a little too early in your life cycle for that attitude. But I could tell you were just testing the waters with that little outburst because when I shot you "the" look, you responded meekly, "Sorry Daddy, I just have to go real bad."

I chuckled internally trying to keep that stern face. "Go ahead and go, then homework, then some cleaning up, then some dinner." I love the power of "the" look though I know one day soon its power will fade.

I think I heard you mumble something about how Mommy is a bit easier when you come home from school. But she was at the hospital with your PopPop. They took him there in the morning by ambulance. And that is why you got me busting your balls yesterday. After everything was done... potty, lunch box cleaning, homework, math, reading, dinner, living room cleaning, a load of dishes, etc... you and I got some play time while we waited for Mommy to come home.

Today, we found out that PopPop has an infection called cellulitis that had spread and was really getting the better of him. He will soon be on some very serious antibiotics, like flagyl which evidently the napalm of the antibiotic world. So he is in store for a rough couple days, but I think he will end up getting better quickly.

As for the orderly manner of doing things after school, I apologize. In times of crisis I don't have time for pleasantries or time wasting. Things need to be done and I don't want them looming if plans have to be changed at the last moment. So I get a bit commanding and demanding.

Unfortunately our lives seem to be in constant crisis. It is a rare moment when at least one person in our circle of family and friends is not in mortal peril. But through the turmoil, I have learned a lesson. You still have to make time for those moments, like playing Minecraft PE with your son, or heading off to Sweet Frog, or cuddling while watching a movie or better yet while reading a book. Because life is (or can be) a series of constant crises and sometimes you just have to make those moments that make it worth living through each and every challenge.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Smoking

To my son Tommy,

"Am I a smoker now?" you asked with a whimper and tears in your eyes. I couldn't help but chuckle as I tried to reassure you that you had not smoked. You had found your Great Great Uncle Mickey Slagle's pipe (pictured above) and stuck it in your mouth.

We had to go to YouTube so you could see all the things necessary for smoking a pipe. Since you didn't have fire and tobacco, you were fine. But it still hasn't sunk in.

We had a long conversation about smoking and how you shouldn't start and how your mom and I smoked and how lots of people used to smoke. We had constant reassurance that you didn't have to check mark "smoker" on any future applications and how it is best never to start. We talked about how your mom and I quit because we wanted more years in our life to continue to get to know you. Not sure how much sunk in, but you nodded and then asked with tears coming back, "Do I smoke now?" 

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Chopped Liver

To my son Tommy,

Had jury duty today and picked you up around 5pm. Mom is off working more on the basement. We were rushing around getting dinner done and moving on to homework in a second but I thought this little conversation worth reporting.

You: Can I have some water?
Me (half listening as I was going through your "go book" looking for homework assignments): I'd have to make more mac and cheese.
You: No, I said water.
Me: Oh, yeah sure. You know how to get your water. Cup is right there.
You (looking at cup):
Me (looking at you):
You (looking at me):
Me: Go ahead and get it. What am I your...
You (interrupting): Chopped liver?
Me: What? No. That isn't the right use of that. I was going to say "servant".
You (looking at me like chopped liver):
Me (looking at cup):
You: I guess I can get my own water.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Obligatory First Day

To my son Tommy,

I would be remiss if I didn't write to you on your first day of school. It is obligatory and I could have my "daddy card" revoked if I didn't.

I love that you are excited for your first day of school. No tears from you. I had to wrangle you in to give hugs to Bwama and Poppop who came to see you and Ryan as St Agnes started up its school year for the 150th time. After the forced hugs, you quickly ran off to your friends. Hugs and high fives and a whole bunch of "Great to see you again". I think I even heard you compliment someone's shoes.

Speaking of footwear, notice the brown shoes in the pic. Those are required now that you are a highfalutin first grader. Now you need to learn to tie them!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

P.S. Poppop got some pics at the school. Will see if I can add them later.

You Can Try

To my son Tommy,

You can try diversion. You can try avoidance. You can try denial. You can try alcohol. You can try to fill your entire weekend with something new and different and fun filled like spending it camping for your brother-in-law's 40th, complete with tubing down a lazy river and such. You can try all types of crazy things or techniques...

But none of it will protect you from the sadness of an anniversary of the loss of a loved one. Tommy, you would have made one heck of a big brother. Rest in peace Baby Sal.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Outdoor Sleeping

To my son Tommy,

You sleep more soundly in the outdoors.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Broken Record

To my son Tommy,

I often worry about being a broken record and how often I repeat myself. How many times can you say "love is the way" and in how many different ways? How many times do I need to remind you that life is often difficult and unfair, but it matters not how often you get crapped upon but more about your attitude and how you approach the many challenges of life? How many times can you say brain tumors and seizures suck and we are back in the hospital and trying to keep a positive attitude? 

I guess as many times as I have to. And as you can see by the picture, yet again there is another ER trip for your Granpa Leo. The hat and low lights are to reduce seizures. He is being admitted for observation.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Mosca Hunter

To my son Tommy,

Today, after work, I stopped by your grandparents' house. You and Mommy were there earlier to take Nana Jeanne to the hospital but had already left. I did a few chores (trash out, computer updates, go over mom's recent doc appointment helping hand here and there) and just visited for a bit of time.

During my visit, your Grandpa Leo excitedly says, "Oh! You have to see the mosca masks!"

I searched my mind's store of Spanish vocabulary and remembered that "mosca" is Spanish for fly. Evidently you and he were hunting flies. One of you, not sure which, suggested you make disguises to fool the flies so you could get closer with your swatter. He came out  in his mask, as seen in the picture I snapped (not sure why he was carrying a bag of lemons though). Even the eyes had a punch of pin prick holes to mimic fly eyes. Your mask looked good too. You never know what to expect when you get your Grandpa Leo and you together, but there is a high probability of it being off the wall but filled with love!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Bitter Pill

To my son Tommy,

Your father is a bitter pill. I am blunt, direct, forward, and often harsh or downright abrasive. I used to rationalize this as I have the necessary lack of tact for the occasion rather than I lack the necessary tact. I used to think this served me well and was a good thing born from experience.. Years of being too nice or too easy going often got me walked on, taken advantage of, or taken for granted. As I grew and extended my practical contact with people, I learned where to remain guarded, and untrusting, and firm, and harsh, and demanding, and unforgiving. I no longer consider it a positive.

I have come to realize you can be nice and firm at the same time. You can be pleasant and easy in your manners and ways while still being mostly direct. You get more flies with honey. Sweeter words are easier to swallow just in case you have to eat your words. "No thank you" is as just as effective as "NO! That is stupid! Not now! Not ever!" Now the key is putting this realization into action. That is much easier said than done in my age. When you have been burned so many times before over forty one years, you get set in your ways.

But this is not how I want you to grow up. I want you to be gentle and sweet and nice, like you are now. In order for you to stay that way, I know I have to change my ways, because example is the most powerful teacher. I want you to learn that nice isn't always saying yes, and no doesn't mean you have to be harsh. I am not saying abandon what you know to be correct (which I do occasionally, much to my later dismay) but just be nice about how you go about explaining why it needs to be done that way. I want you to have patience when you teach, and patience when you have to explain something over and over. I want you to learn to sway people to your thinking rather than ramming what you think is right down their throat. Basically, I want you to learn to be the quintessential Irishman and have the ability to tell someone to go to hell and look forward to the trip. Don't let life change you for the worse my son. Don't grow up to be a grumpy jaded old man like your dad who only wants to tell you once and has no time for people who can't see what is "right" right away. Be kind. Be gentle. Be loving. Inspire people to be better people. Inspire other people to be kind. Maybe then, this world will have a chance.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Aaahhhchooo

To my son Tommy,

There are times where I dig deep and attempt to find those profound pearls of wisdom. This is not one of those times. I guess you can file this on practical tip. Okay, enough build up.

If there is anyway at all you can avoid it, never sneeze while eating sushi.

I learned this little nugget just today, and, after picking up the 52nd grain of rice that scattered just about everywhere, I decided to share. Not sure how you avoid it, that you will have to figure out on your own.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Peak Of Misunderstanding

To my son Tommy,

I truly believe that our society has reached a new height in misinformation. At no point in human history have people so readily dismissed the truth but at the same time accepted the most absurd ideas as fact. We live in an age where people believe honey and cinnamon can cure everything (or so sayeth the digital article) and news of a person's death can go viral thrice over, years after the event. No longer do we understand the difference between causation and correlation and coincidence. We live on headlines and click bait and can somehow discern the entire story without reading another word. Oh Paul Harvey where are you now? We are in desperate need of the rest of the story.

Yet the same tool (I mean the Internet and not Al Gore) that seemingly created this mess may be the same apparatus to get us out. For a tool is not inherently good nor evil. Only in the reflection of how it is used does a device, method, or means take on such characteristics. The Internet easily reflects back our abundant human flaws because we allow it, but this does not have to be.

We have to change our hearts and minds and in extension how we use the tools in our lives. We must use our voices, be it through the Internet or print or in person, to spread truth. We must approach each story presented to us with a critical mind and a healthy dose of skepticism. We must delve in deep to the entire story and not allow a snippet of information, purposely written to trick us into a click, to have such a great influence on what we think. We must demand truth and accuracy from all sources of information, be it politician or press or the person down the street. We must avoid all media that continue to feed off half truths and fears and opinion masquerading as news, in hopes that their profit disappear and with it their unscrupulous ways.

We must challenge those of our friends and family that share the unfounded and absurd as if it was fact. We must be cautious in what we pass along and be careful in our own certainty. We must once again recognize the harm in each untruth spoken or shared and no longer forgive ourselves by dismissing the action as harmless or justifying it as well intended. Even your own father's words, it pains me to say, must not be blindly accepted. As Walt Whitman wrote in Song of Myself , "You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self." Seek truth my son and speak truth my son.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Thus Ends My Birthday Weekend

To my son Tommy,

Thus ends my birthday weekend. And a grand weekend it was. The majority of it was spent tiling and doing home improvement type stuff. Well, mostly I sat around just playing helper to your mom who is sort of a D.I.Y (Do It Yourself) queen. Occasionally I got to play some Minecraft with you and your mom let me out to the local casino for a little, but according to my muscles, most of my time was spent squatting on a floor laying mud and tile.

You might think that is not a great way to spend a birthday weekend, but you would be wrong. Just because it was a bit domestic and chore like, doesn't mean I didn't have a great time. We made great progress on the basement (looks good in the pic right? Only 1200 sq ft more to go!). Plus I got to use a tile saw which is something new to me. Also I learned a bunch of new home improvement techniques. Of course my education consisted of learning what not to do the next time, but that is okay too. Your mom and I were working well as a team and having so much fun (mostly) laughing at our mistakes that it almost made me forget why we need to redo the basement. Still, sobering thought aside, I was always surrounded by family this weekend.

Friday started with a big "Happy Birthday" surprise wake up call that made your mother nearly hit the ceiling from a dead sleep. You then gave me cuddles and hugs and even some back scratches. What a great start! And you were so excited to give me my gifts, which were two pairs of flip flops! I had put a nail through the left one of my last pair the night before while working on the basement, which wouldn't have been so bad if my foot wasn't in it at the time.

We had dinner with your grandparents and Nana Jeanne every night, when your mom and I could tear ourselves away from the basement. I always enjoy family dinner with the Downeys and hope that same dinner dynamic continues when we have to move in to take care of your grandpa and everyone. You still lead us in grace with the song you learned at St Agnes. We have to keep a weathered eye for food wrappers that occasionally make it into the dish when your Grandma Roro cooks, but if that is the only hazard then it is worth the risk.

As for today though, it was a sad anniversary. Your Nana Jeanne and your Great Grandpa Leo would have been married seventy years today, the platinum anniversary. I could tell he was on her mind and in her heart today. I think it was good for us to be up there for most of today, even though you and her had a little spat. You were being a bit rambunctious and your Nana Jeanne needed some calm and of course Mommy and I were down in the basement trying to figure out grouting techniques. Anyways, you took offense to your Nana Jeanne finally telling you to knock it off, but after some words were exchanged (by letter even) you apologized and told (again by letter) your great grandma that you loved her.

Funny thing about anniversaries, and birthdays, and other special dates...they never stop. Even if you wanted them to, they just keep coming, as time tends to do. Some times they can be causes for joyous celebration, while other times they can be a bit sad. If you surround yourself with your family and friends, you can get through and feel blessed no matter what type of anniversary it is. Their love make the happiest days better and the saddest days easier. That is the reason we are working on the basement for my birthday weekend. So when the time comes to move in to help, we can be there to give our love, to give of ourselves. And that is the best birthday gift I can give myself.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Just Another Day

To my son Tommy,

To everyone else, it is just another Fathers' Day. Unfortunately, I have been enlightened to know that any day, including Father's day, is not just another day. Every day is a gift to be treasured and experienced to its fullest. Sounds good right? Yet I say that I have been unfortunately enlightened. I say unfortunately because it can be quite worrisome and burdensome to think of each day in the sense of its potential lasts. This could be the last Fathers' Day I spend with my dad.

A week ago, I was calm and this was the farthest thought from my mind. I was living in the moment and not the future, and if you got to live that is the time period to live in. But now the "What do you want to do for Father's day?" question had all this false importance I was projecting on it. My sense of responsibility, coupled with a heaping amount of Catholic guilt and regret, says that I should make this day, and every day to come for that matter, the most memorable... for it may be the last.

Should I be throwing him a party every day? What do you give to a man who has given you everything? What do you give a man who is facing a timetable that's only certainty is its pessimistic outlook? Hallmark doesn't make a card sufficient for times like this, trust me I've looked.

So I went over to your Grandpa Leo's house yesterday. He was laying down in bed. I cleared off your Grandma Roro's spot and layed down next to him, a practice I have recently adopted. It is nice in that room when the t.v. is off and the fan is on and it is all dark. Something peaceful and calming and secure when I lay down next to my daddy. I told him not to get up, because he hasn't yet accustomed himself to me just wanting to lay down next to him and usually he tries to get up right away and ruins the moment and interrupts the rest he needs, thus making me feel worse about the world. As we laid there mostly in silence, I sighed a big sigh as relief and tranquility started to come on to me.

Me: "What do you want for Fathers' Day? The question has been weighing on me."
Your Grandpa Leo: "Sweats."
Me: "What do you mean sweats? Like sweatpants?"
Your Grandpa Leo: "Yeah. Something I can wear out of the house and not embarrass anyone I am with. These pajama pants aren't cutting it and the jeans are just too hard to deal with if bathroom urges strike. Don't move as fast as I used to."

I continued on telling him all the ideas I had go through my head about the gifts I should get him. He laughed a little at each. Even said some would be perfectly nice. But in the end, I am getting your grandpa sweatpants for this Fathers' Day and hopefully a couple more pairs for next Fathers' Day and the one after that. I was back to living in the moment, just me and my daddy, laying next to each other, staring at a ceiling. That lasted until your Grandma Roro decided we were being too lazy or having too much funny and all of a sudden needed some...I don't know what the hell she needed, but it was something that couldn't wait.

Your Grandpa Leo: "Welp, so much for that." then as he looked at me as if it was all my fault this moment was ending, he accusingly added,  "You sighed too loudly I think."

Here are the secrets of life that dawned on me. This Fathers' Day could be the last. Last Fathers' Day could have been the last. The Fathers' day before that could have been the last. Every Fathers' Day of my life could have been the last. You can't prepare yourself for the last...you can only live the current.  You can't live the current based upon the uncertainty of the next. And all those grandiose dreams, all those efforts to make something the most memorable... well often enough they are for naught. If my father were to pass tomorrow or six years from now, I am not going to tell the story of how right before he did I got him a 55 inch ultra led t.v. for his last Fathers' Day. But I will tell the story of how I used to go in and lay down next to him and have to tell him not to get up so we could both experience together the rare moment of calm that eludes most of fathers. I will tell you how all my father wanted was sweatpants (and a beer but a thimble of near beer will evidently put him under the table and in mortal danger so all he gets are sweatpants) Special moments like this can exist every day, and they are far from grandiose gestures, but they exist in the little short almost insignificant moments of life that mean much more than you ever realize until they actually do become the last. Until then, he will no longer be able to embarrass us with his pants. But embarrassing us with his hats...well that just won't ever stop.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Latin Influence

To my son Tommy,

People always question your Grandpa Leo when he declares his Puerto Rican heritage. Genetically, of course, he has no claim to that heritage, but being raised in Puerto Rico from age 10 till after college when he joined the Army, he certainly is allowed to identify as Puerto Rican. The Hispanic influence is never more evident than here at the Johns Hopkins ER today. Notice the backwards gown with only the top connected. Straight out Latin gangsta. Just needs his bandanna tied around his head. You should be lucky to be this cool when you have a seizure! I joke because the alternatives (crying, getting angry, etc) suck. Find solace in humor whenever you can. He is doing better than he was an hour ago, which is all we can ask.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Pillow Fort

To my son Tommy,

This Saturday morning, you have safely established yourself in your pillow fort on the couch while watching Walker Texas Ranger. The only sound I hear from you is an occasional cheer when the bad guy gets kicked in the face. I wish I was six again! Either that or I should get bigger pillows to make daddy sized forts!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Fund Raising

To my son Tommy,

I was scrolling through some of my various twitter feeds this morning and came upon a tweet that said, "...I see you're not fond of someone. Why not make a contribution to his opponent? ..." and gave a link to do just that. I chuckled at the boldness of this fund raising tactic. I get the concept, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" whole thing.

Then I started thinking perhaps this tweet has a bit of truth to it. Perhaps I should give money to counteract the demons in politics. But handing money to a devil to defeat a demon is not quite what I think of as a good solution. And in politics, angels are so far and few between. And you can't really be diametrically opposed if you are in the same political arena.

So if you want to monetarily support that which opposes the demons and devils in politics, find a good humble soup kitchen or shelter to give to. My Brother's Keeper Baltimore is a good place to donate. (I picked them because your Grandmom Roro sends them a casserole or two every week, but you can find your own cause or organization) Go out and buy a bunch of food and send it their way. Or go donate to a school. Better yet, hit a school bake sale and then take the desserts you bought down to a homeless shelter. Find those people and groups in the world that are spreading love and hope, and avoid contributing to those who seek power no matter how much you hate their political opponent. Find a group that accepts your money but would rather have your time and effort to affect change.

Find those organizations that you see the actual effect of your contribution rather than getting just a vague political promise for change. I have lived a life seeing so many political people promising how they will make things better. But after 40 years of life, I have seen too few promises come to fruition. But if you ever worked a soup kitchen, you see people come in hungry and defeated, and you see them leave sated and with a glimmer of gratefulness and hope. That is real change even if the next day you have to do it again, and again.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Healthy Alternative

To my son Tommy,

There is a bunch of talk about providing better alternatives for people. We, as a society need to provide alternatives to a life of crime. Our political system needs to provide alternatives to the crappy corrupt corporate bought "leaders" of this day. Our technology and transportation systems need to provide alternatives to the pollution producers we drive today. And we all need healthy alternatives to sugary fattening foods.

My company has actually been trying to provide a more healthy alternative to food choices. Vendors and such always used to supply just donuts and other such treats. Now, there is usually a basket of fruit and nuts waiting for us to make our choice.

But look at that picture. See those donuts? Which would you choose? The fruit? Really? Even if no one is looking? Well God bless you if you are being honest. For me it was difficult to take the apple today. I even had the donut box open, but chastised and shamed myself into choosing the healthy alternative. It took some serious will power to avoid the donut.

Providing an alternative is sometimes not enough. Temptation is a powerful evil. Alternatives are a good start, but only part of the solution. They embolden the blame game type people who gladly shame you with, "No one made you eat that donut. There were plenty of apples. You are a bad person because you gave in to temptation and deserve everything you get." That mindset is so prevalent in our society through all of the social ills. Yet we should be (and are) called to forgive the donut eater and find a way to strengthen his resolve so he will choose the apple next time. Sometimes this includes removing the temptation. No, you shouldn't eat all the donuts to remove the temptation for others.

And if you think this post is just about donuts and willpower, you may have missed the point. Understand temptation. Forgive those who stray. Help them to make amends for their actions and make better choices. Avoid and remove the occasion for fault. Love people despite their poor choices. And for Pete's sake, stop putting these donuts next to the fruit basket! Okay maybe it is just about donuts. They look delicious!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Perseverance

To my son Tommy,

Lately, I demand you do your own seatbelt. You have been switched to a booster seat and you have been given this new responsibility of securing yourself in the back seat. It is still my responsibility to make sure you did it correctly and are safe, but the initial effort is now coming from you.

Today, you struggled with that seat belt. I heard a bunch of "I can't..." and "It's too hard..." followed by whatever challenge seemed to be thwarting you at the moment. It was like you were searching for an excuse I would accept so I would go back and do it for you. I didn't. Instead I sat there waiting patiently after saying, "Don't tell yourself you can't. You can do this!" You finally got the darn thing buckled and I saw some pride on your face as I cheered a loud and sincere cheer and offered you a high five. "Daddy, it was just a little difficult and I didn't think I could do it. I was having trouble seeing it and pushing it. But, I got it...so no worries," you replied humbly.

You see that picture above? That is me posing with one beautiful intelligent soon to be official nurse (aka your mom) who just walked across the stage for a recognition ceremony. You know what? There were times, throughout the past couple years, that she wanted to give up. There were times she said, "I can't." and "It's too hard." A quick browse through the letters over the past couple years and you can see that it was difficult, with multiple challenges, on every front, from health to family. There were many times when she questioned if she could, but she persevered.

You see that green cord around her neck. That denotes her excellence and her induction into the Alpha Eta honors society (a ceremony we went to previously). She also got into Phi Theta Kappa honor society (though we missed that induction ceremony because you had pneumonia) and made Dean's list every semester and had (I believe) high honors. The only award she didn't get was some "Outstanding Student" award that the nursing department at her school forgot to fill out the paperwork for the entire class. So not only did she at one time want to give up and didn't, she pretty much knocked it out of the ballpark with her effort and success.

So try not to tell yourself you can't too much. If things get tough, look at what your mom accomplished with all the things going on around her. Keep struggling, keep trying, keep on keeping on. Know that it is in your genetic makeup to overcome and succeed. Just like today, I will try to avoid just doing it for you, but know that I will be there, watching, supporting, cheering you (and your mom) on with loving pride in my heart for every challenge you face.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Birthday Adventures

To my son Tommy,

Yesterday was your Grandpa Leo's 67th birthday. I had plans of doing something grandiose for him, especially with the uncertainty that brain cancer holds for the future. The grandiose party plans were nixed and we just had dinner with just the basic crew of you, me, your mom, your Nana Jeanne, your Great Uncle Kevin, your Grandma Roro, and, of course, your Grandpa Leo. Your Great Aunt Cathy came down with our cousin Christina for dessert which was a gluten free, celiac approved, tapioca cake with some candles. By the way, in case you end up with celiac disease which I think is genetic, here is a hint; you have to add lots of ice cream to gluten free cake otherwise your tongue turns to dust. The first ingredient in this case might be tapioca, but the pretty sure the second is shredded cardboard.

As we summoned saliva and talenti ice cream to get down the cake, we talked about birthdays of yore. Your grandpa and great aunt share a birthday month (she has hers on the 24th so only three days apart) and consequently they always did something together, usually just the two of them. They would both take off from work and go an adventure. Remember, the word "adventure" is very subjective. They talked about cooking classes and trips around the state and all sorts of events.

One of their stories was about a trip to Annapolis. On your grandpa's suggestion, they ended up on a bus tour of the city. This is your grandpa's idea of a wild and crazy adventure. To hear them tell it was quite comical. The tour guide was going through and asking stuff like, "Is there anyone from California?" and hands being raised here and there on all the out of state locations. Only two people on the tour were from Maryland, and that includes your grandpa and great aunt.

That story flowed into the time, long ago and far away, that they were travelling in Wyoming and your Grandpa Leo made everyone take a detour so he could give them a tour of Cheyenne where he lived from toddler days till about age of ten. Not sure of everyone on the trip but I know it was your Great Uncle Chuck Kennedy driving and your Great Aunt Cathy was on the trip and of course your Grandpa Leo and Grandma Roro, and I assume your Great Grandparents Deezy and Charlie and your Great Aunt Patti Kennedy and your Great Uncle Tim, etc. Evidently, they double backed, when they were close to Laremy which was their destination for the night, because of the insistence of your grandpa. The tour consisted of such grand sites as "That is the bush I hid under when Sister Marie Gregory was trying to hit me with a ruler" and other such gems. I just pictured the entire family sitting there staring at a bush in wonder and awe,

Then it struck me, as we all sat there laughing at these tours and what your Grandpa Leo considers interesting, that even though your Grandpa Leo has lived through some pretty wild and crazy events in his life, that isn't what we were recalling. I mean your Grandpa Leo has narrowly escaped death on multiple occasions throughout his life and especially his military career. We weren't sitting there talking about the time a grenade was lobbed into a courtyard in Turkey that he had just left, or the time in Norway where an avalanche wiped out a bunch of Nato troops on exercise, or the time in Germany where a guy put down a briefcase machine gun (yes they do or did exist) without the safety on, or the multiple times on the Russian border where he could pick up binoculars and look at the Soviet soldier staring back at him through binoculars. Nope, we sat there reminiscing about much simpler, much more regular, and evidently from the bush staring story, often more boring times.

Every story, every memory, every moment recalled from a life well lived that was worthy of a birthday conversation, had one thing in common...love. We weren't talking about some grand adventure or harrowing advent, it was stories about family and togetherness. We weren't telling "big fish" stories to impress or brag, but rather small unremarkable stories that brought us closer together with our shared moments. The tales weren't filled with the times that your grandpa made great suggestion and perfect decisions, but rather celebrated what some might see as a quirk or imperfection or even (quite wrongly) a fault in his adventure choices.

After this realization, I feel for his 67th birthday your Grandpa Leo got the birthday he wanted, and the one he deserved. My wish for you, and me, is ... may all our birthday adventures ahead of us be just as boring and memorable and filled with love and family.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Doing Nothing

To my son Tommy,

Your mom is zonked out on the couch. She was up to 2:15 in the morning perfecting her final paper and project and presentation for nursing school. She is taking a well deserved nap.

You, however, are up to no good. I know because when I asked what you were doing, you replied, "Nothing." That nothing involves some type of glittery sand art packages, and a homemade minecraft robot, and scissors, and who knows what else. So it is a good thing you are doing nothing.

I am sitting down in the living room, debating on how much leniency to give you in your "doing nothing". I am a firm believer on allowing a little bit of freedom and space to get into a bit of mischief.

When I went up stairs to find you "doing nothing" which looked strangely similar to feeding glitter sand to a robot tiki totem pole that you have created in the middle of your room, you came down to plead your case to your mother. Your mom is so tired that right now you could probably paint your room and she wouldn't care, as long as you stop waking her up.

So, officially, every Downey in this house is "doing nothing" and now I am deciding if I can continue doing nothing as you have decided to draw on your face to make yourself a tiger. Not sure when you became Dennis the Menace or Calvin from Calvin and Hobbs, but I think you have turned some dark corner. I blame your Great Uncle Kevin's influence.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Wasted Time

To my son Tommy,

On one or more occasions of my youth I accused my parents of wasting my time. At young ages, the definition of time well spent is quite skewed. My dad would just smile that smile each and every time I would say, "This is such a waste of time."

This morning, on our way to your Great Great Aunt Jule Slagle's funeral, I realized how much time spent parenting is running around and saying, "Find your shoes. We're already late." Talk about a time sink. I am guessing at least three hours every week are spent trying to find shoes. Today one was under the coffee table and the other under the couch.

I guess that is why my father smiled that smile. He knew some day I would really know the meaning of wasted time, but by then I would consider it parenting, or one of its sacrifice, or even time well spent.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Super Hero Day

To my son Tommy,

We decided to send you back to school today, with a bunch of caveats. No running. No PE. Relaxing during recess. Etc. We will see how you fair.

It is also Super Hero day at St Agnes School. Donations are being collected for your school to help a family in need with their medical bills. In turn, you kids can dress up in a super hero outfit. You couldn't choose, so you are going as a combined hero...super spider man. We tried to get you to pick one or the other, but sometimes you just have to pick your battles. Of course once we settled on the dual personality hero, you suggested that maybe you should be a priest for superhero day. After I explained that we didn't have a priest outfit, and reminded you that a priest wouldn't wear a teenage mutant ninja turtle mask, you decided to keep your current outfit. I do like that your idea of a superhero extends to priests and other non traditional super hero stereotypes. And Lord knows we need all kinds of superheros in Baltimore these days.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Parenting Lessons

To my son Tommy,

T: "You're a good daddy."
Me: "Thanks. You are a good son. But would you mind..."
T: (impatiently interrupting) "How did you become such a good dad?"
Me: "Well I must have learned it from watching your grandpa be a good dad to me. The rest I just picked up as time went on or got lucky with I guess. Now, would you mind...."
T: "You didn't read it in a 'construction' book or something?"
Me: "Tommy, I learned more about parenthood from conversations like these than I ever learned from an instruction book, or parenting magazine, or blog."
T: "I am glad we had this conversation daddy!"
Me: "Me too Tommy. Me too. Now...would you mind leaving the bathroom and closing the door to give daddy a little privacy while he goes poops?"
T: "Sure thing"

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Crisis Management

To my son Tommy,

The trick to dealing with a crisis is to pretend there is no crisis. If you downgrade everything to urgent and deal with each thing you can in a calm and collected fashion, you will breeze through the challenges of life. I used to be good at that. I used to be able to roll with the punches and just deal with whatever was thrown at me in a "nonchalant, oh well, baby steps" type way. Nothing really concerned me.

Nowadays, after dealing with what I consider to be more than our fair share of ongoing crises over the past couple years, even the smallest things can seem daunting. Not that the current crisis is anything to be scoffed at (you having pneumonia is fairly serious) but before when something like this arose, we would just take it in stride. As a singular incident, fairly easy to deal with. We would just deal with the around the clock nebulizer treatments and the extra meds and the promise of little sleep and increased concern. We could even shake off the insurance company screwing us by not covering the cost of the antibiotic that you need. Now, every event just seems overwhelming.

To be honest though, even normally happy events can be a crisis nowadays. Your Grandpa Leo went out with your Great Uncle Kevin and bought a new grill for his house the other day. They got it on the truck with the help of the sales associate, but when they got it home, they couldn't get it off the truck. Your Grandpa Leo shouldn't even be trying such tasks, but he is a stubborn Irishman like his father, and his son, and even his grandson. Anyways, he started worrying about leaving the grill on the back of the truck and that, coupled with whatever strenuous attempt at getting the grill off, started to send him into seizures. Your grandpa called us and then went and laid down and got his seizures to subside. We left Ryan's first communion party, came over and helped get the grill off the truck and we had burgers from the new grill that night. Well, you didn't have burgers because you are allergic to beef and that would have sent us to the hospital much earlier, but the rest of us enjoyed the new grille's cooking.

The point though is even getting a new grill, which would be cause for fun and celebration, can become a crisis. That is why I, until things settle down, I have pretty much cleared my schedule of any extra curricular events or commitments or responsibilities. I just focus on the most essential things and only at the last minute, if it seems like we can get away with it, do we attend those fun extras. I can't even consider giving any effort to addressing or worrying about all the real woes of society that are affecting our country and state and city right now, and frankly, in Baltimore, things are getting intense. It may sound a bit desperate, and we are managing better than I let on, but it is pretty much all we can do to manage the day to day living of ourselves without adding any additional crises than the ones that are real and present.

So for now, we will just pretend there is no crisis. We will treat your pneumonia like it is just something we have to do and just get it done. Remember, you can choose what you let become a crisis. Right now, you are amazing at that and just seem to accept whatever comes our way. You are sitting on the couch, getting a neb treatment, playing your ipad, as if everything is normal, and the only thing you think is different or extraordinary is the new neb mask you got from the hospital. This is a great attitude to have, and means your mom and I are doing pretty good at not letting you realize that there really is a lot going on and this is not normal. Some day you will read this and think, holy crap, how did we get through it all. I don't know about you but I got through it with hugs from you and prayers to God (plus denial and whisky always helps, I kid I kid).

Anyways, more later, maybe. We are probably headed back to the hospital soon as your O2 level is dropping again (even though you just finished a neb treatment) and we most likely will be admitted for at least night. The only reason they let you come home before I think was because Mommy is a nurse and can handle it here. Oh well. Your mom just said that you got your oxygen level back up a bit so now we are in a wait and see mode. Repeat after me, "This is not a crisis, this is not a crisis, this is not a crisis."

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Secret Criminal Activity

To my son Tommy,

The key to keeping a secret, especially the secret of a possible crime, is to not tell anyone. It is like the movie Usual Suspects says, "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he doesn't exist." Too often the downfall of so many would-be criminal master minds is they decide to confide in someone else. Perhaps it is ego. Perhaps it is the natural instinct to unburden your soul. Whatever reason, once someone else knows, the possibility of getting away with said crime decreases exponentially and almost makes being found out inevitable. You are not a criminal mastermind, or at least not yet.

Lately, you have been having a tough time of it with your asthma, or perhaps allergies, or perhaps a cold, or the weather, or whatever is causing your cough. You wake up at all hours of the night with this hard cough and we (and by we I mean usually your mom) have to wake up and treat you with an array of nebulizer masks and inhalers and allergy meds and such. Last night, or more accurately this morning, was one of those events.

Your mom and you came downstairs to do your neb mask. After the mask treatment. you guys were cuddling and sleeping down on the couch. After awhile, you told your mom you were going back up stairs to sleep in your bed. You went upstairs alright, but you never made it to your bed.

When I woke up, you were excited to tell me of your 'crime'. As soon as my foot hit the floor beside my bed, you came running in.

T: "Oh daddy, I didn't know you were up."
Me: (some type of guttural response)
T: "You just woke me up from sleeping on my dinosaur!"
Me:
T: "I was just sleeping with my dinosaur, on the floor!"
Me:
T: "I had told mommy I was going to bed, but I didn't. I just slept on my dinosaur!"
Me:
T: "It's crazy! I was supposed to be in the bed, but I didn't. I slept on my dinosaur! Now don't get me in trouble with Mommy!"
Me: "Okay"
T: "Really. Don't get me in trouble with Mommy, because I told her I was going to bed and I didn't. I slept on the floor, with my dinosaur!"
Me: "I need a shower."

Your infraction was petty crime at worst. I suppose I should be upset with your wanton disregard for doing something other than what you told your mom you were going to, but I can't. I do things 'differently' all the time and I can relate with not wanting to be in trouble with Mommy. In the song Son Of A Son Of A Sailor there is a lyrical line that says "Read dozens of books about heroes and crook, and I learned much from both of their styles." That is a nice wrap up of the Downey perspective with regards to authority and rules. If you said you were going up to 'bed' and en route you decided that this morning your bed would be a dinosaur, although not letter of the law to your word, so be it.

But if you want to make sure your dad won't get you in trouble with your mom for something, don't tell him. For he might tell your mom, as your old man hates secrets, especially keeping them from the woman he loves. Or he might just blog about it and tell the world.

Me: "Aaah" (as I stepped out of the shower and the moment my foot hit the bathroom floor)
T: "Oh daddy, I didn't know you were out of the shower."
Me: (slightly startled and grabbing for a towel, thinking "I got to get you a bell or something")
T: "When you are done drying off I want to show you something!"
Me:
T:
Me: (drying off and thinking, "Is it too early for beer?")
T: "It is the dinosaur, in my room, I slept on him, instead of the bed, like I told Mommy, so you have to promise not to get me in trouble with Mommy!"
Me: "Okay"

Sincerely with love from your  dad,
Leo

What Could Go Wrong

To my son Tommy,

Last night, I went to bed. Going to bed is one of my favorite joys in life, because with everything going on, with all the problems in our world, I somehow can still sleep, or at least usually. And what could go wrong going to bed?

I readied myself. I even said our nightly prayers though you are down the ocean with your Bwama. I put on my cpap mask. I laid down in bed. BOOM! The frame of the bed busted. Realizing almost instantly what had happened, tears started coming to my eyes. Are you kidding me? I was just going to bed. Can't that even go well for me? Am I that fat? Is Someone up there laughing at me saying, "Leo had too nice of a night. Delicious dinner with the Mrs. followed by some quality time with her, and even some snuggling. Watch this! 'Into each life some rain must fall,' Or if not rain, some frame. Hehe!" as they issue the command to the universe for 3 of the 4 screws on that part of the bed frame to simultaneously tear through the wood.

Your mom called up immediately asking if I was okay. She came up to help me fix everything. Like I said before, when things go wrong, sometimes I revert to anger to keep my other emotions in check. I usually feel the anger justified but that is just not right. Your mom called me on the uncontrolled anger right away, and rightfully so. I was not going to make the situation better by throwing mattresses and boxsprings around. God, I love her.

After things returned to normal, mostly due to your mom, and before I readied myself for bed, I went in and weighed myself. I still need to lose weight but I was nowhere near my high. I guess the stress of dealing with my top weight for a good long while was enough for the bed. Oh well, back on the diet and off to the hardware store to find stronger and longer screws.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

The Toothless Detective

To my son Tommy,

To be certain, Christ's Resurrection is the reason we celebrate today. It is easy to lose that perspective with everything that goes on, from Easter egg hunts and bunnies and peeps and hams and family get together. You can even throw in the fact that you lost your first tooth today, and when I say lost, that means you got tired of wiggling that tooth and pulled it yourself. Ouch. Well at least that is one of the shark teeth fixed with only one left to go.

You had plans on pulling that tooth last night, some grandiose plan that the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny needed to meet up. But in all your planning and scheming, your little neurons were firing and coming up with some questions and suspicions. And of course, being the daddy, it fell to me to set you straight and allay your suspicions.

6 year old: Why does the Easter Bunny and everyone like him come only at night while I am sleeping?

Me:
6 year old:

Me: Autographs and selfies. If he came during the day everyone would want autographs and selfies. He doesn't have time for that. Very busy you know.

6 year old:
Me:

6 year old: Yeah, that makes sense.

You are getting too smart for your own good. Stay young and stop growing! I would say you would make a fine future detective, but your abilities only seem to extend to the mental and abstract, because it took you way too long to find your Easter basket. It was hidden in a partially opened oven and even after a game of hot and cold with a clue like "You are so hot you're burning like you were IN AN OVEN!" it still took you a couple minutes to figure it out.

But to be certain, even during all these distractions and excitements, Easter still remains about the ultimate sacrifice and His Resurrection.  Remember Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die.” (John 11:25-26), Happy Easter!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

No Evidence

To my son Tommy,

You had a nightmare last night. You came in to sleep with us. Less than a minute before this picture was taken, you were in a classic "it is not easy to sleep with a kid in the bed" position. Your hand was a splayed across your mom's face and your foot was in the center of my back. Since you sought sanctuary in our bed from your nightmare, it was like your mission to make at least your old man uncomfortable. A foot here, a head there, a punch to the kidneys, a slap to the face, a push to the edge of the bed, etc. Alas, obtaining photographic evidence of how difficult it is to have you in our bed is on par with a picture of Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster. As soon as I had enough and got out of bed to snap this picture, you adjusted to the most heavenly position.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Sour Notes

To my son Tommy,

It is no secret that your mom sings better than your old man, but I am not referring to music when I talk about my sour note today. Some days, especially when your mom has to wake up at the crack of dawn for clinical training, married couples are forced to talk using notes.

Now some guys might consider a note here and there as nagging. Not me. Unless it is over used, I am fine with it. In fact, before bed time your mom asked if I would remember the cake she made for your school or if she should leave a note. Reconciling my belief that I wouldn't forget and my good intentions and my realization that we can all use a backup system, I said, "Both!" The allergy medicine note was an after thought as it isn't part of the normal routine and she would have had to wake me up to tell me that one. So you see, your mom makes great notes.

Me however, my notes when singing or signing are a bit more sour. I knocked one (or more) of your mom's icing tips

Into the sink. It is little signs like this that tell me I shoul just go back to bed. Oh well.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

My note

Bunny cake

Backfire

To my son Tommy,

This morning, your mom was long gone. She has an exam today and left in the wee hours of the morning to go to school and study. So once again it was you and me.

One of the tricks I use to ensure a smooth morning is the early morning wake up. I wake up at 6:40 instead of the normal 7:00. I call for you to wake up. You moan and groan as usual and I promise you five more minutes of sleep. The plan then is to get myself ready and make your breakfast, and then call to you to say the five minutes is up. It is the same basic plan as any politician, take a lot and give a little back and hope your constituents don't realize the disparity. Well my constituent and I get an earlier start and you think you have been blessed with five more minutes of slumber.

Today, that plan backfired. You see after I promised you five more minutes, I went in the potty. Things were just starting to move when you came running in saying you had to go potty NOW! I protested and tried to send you down the stairs to the other bathroom, but you said you couldn't do it. So here are the options as I saw it.

1. Make you go downstairs anyhow and deal with the consequences and mess if you didn't make it.
2. Suck up the turtle head and penguin walk down the stairs myself.
3. Introduce you to peeing in the tub when you are not actually showering.

I chose number two (no pun intended) and learned a valuable lesson. From now on I will potty before waking you. The choices and sacrifices of a father.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Passion

To my son Tommy,

I never know when you will read these. I am not sure if you will read these as soon as you can or you will put them away and pull them out much later in your life. Are you reading this with three or four decades under your belt? This is probably best read then.

In all your life, have you ever been five moments past the point of breaking? You just don't know how you are going to hold up and the only thing you are sure of is life is still going to keep coming at you. You ever have that point where you are trembling because your body can't decide if it wants to scream or cry? It seems you have every bad emotion coursing through your veins and each one is screaming that life is not fair. You get to the point where you have lost faith and lost hope and you may even scream, "I hate you God." even if you really don't mean it. You feel lost and alone and have no faith. Well, I have. I have been there more recently than I would admit and keep coming back there more often than I should.

On this Palm Sunday, through scripture, I am reminded that I am not alone in this feeling. It is part of the human condition that even Jesus had to endure. I have this picture of Him in the garden of Gethsemane falling to the ground and weeping. My own words mix with the words from scripture. I can hear Him saying "This sucks" and "You can fix this if You wanted to" and "Let this cup pass from Me" and tons of yelling "Why?!" as he talked to his Father and faced His impending death. In the end, He trusted in God and the plan laid before Him and said, "not as I will but as You will" (or in other words "Thy will be done.") as He accepted what He had to do and He became the vessel by which we would receive God's forgiveness and grace. This goes without saying but, Jesus was a better man than me. I am still having trouble accepting and having faith. Perhaps I am more like Peter, and when things get tough, I turn quicker than a cock can crow.

Either way, you will probably have had these moments. If you haven't, count yourself blessed, but these moments might yet still come, whether you had them in the past or not. You might be ashamed of these moments of doubt and moments of weakness and moments where you lost all faith and hope. You may have been angry with God and the world and you may lash out at the people you love the most. I am here to tell you to be not ashamed and or afraid. It is okay to pray, "My Father, hear my cry!", and it is okay to say to your loved ones, "I need help!", and it is okay to be angry with God, as He can handle it. But in the end, things are going to happen that you will have no control over. Sometimes the only control you have is controlling how you act or react. Try to do so with love. You will have to find the strength from within to continue on and accept the path before you. But if you find yourself laying on the ground weeping and questioning, know you are in good company.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo