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Be the woman you want your daughters to become.

Me to you

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What I told my sister...

Biz amplifies all the good things in life. Something that I find amusing alone, will make me laugh loudly when Biz is laughing with me. Food that I’m just trying to get into my stomach when I’m alone, suddenly tastes wonderful and I want to savor the taste the way Biz does. She eats every bite of dessert like it’s her very first or very last.

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I simply love you more than life itself

Balanced in our roles - she fed and filled me, and now I’d fill her ears with music

The song and I played together and the lyrics seemed so perfect that I had to stop

Holding her from behind, singing into her ears the sentiment that stopped the music

She sang back, and then looked at me - a radiant fully dimpled smile with bright flashing teeth -

She looked so loved that she glowed.

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Grateful - a Sonnet

Lo - these times marked by our re-acquaintance till the now hath been stormy indeed, e’er the cold winds blow and the skies darken to the color of dull metal grey.

Ne’er before hath either of us known such turbulent times --- that yet doth persist and carry on through the now. Tempestuous wind rocks the lifeboat on the storm-tossed waters and we are thrown overboard.

Like two drowning at sea, clinging for life, holding on to each other, we seek salvation in each other’s arms and find it.

Heart to heart, eye to eye, head to toe.

The intensity of the chaos hath been matched by the intimacy of our bond. The pureness, closeness and truthfulness of us is sublimely beautiful. The words pour forth from me - and thou simply sit and receive.

Thou bringst the color to mine day. Thou fill mine heart the same way you fill my belly - full of love and nourishment. Thy presence is my warm blanket, come in after the storm, to be well come to a home and hearth full of good, full of love.

May that I receive, witness and serve thee, my love - in any and all ways, for I love thee with mine whole self - selflessly, unconditionally, and purely. I am happy thou feelst valued, for I find in thee reason to celebrate - life, love and laughter.

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Waiting for a rainbow

The days are long when you’re this busy filling your moments with the meaningless chatter of the men whom I call peers. You are limited to one of four topics while you display one of three emotions. Then someone says something that reminds me that we’re still in junior high.

Driving all over creation and back. Alone with my thoughts because I can’t bear the news at the moment. I keep trying to find the right audiobook, and the only thing I can handle is absurdist fantasy. It’s better than thinking. The clients are more surreal than the absurd fiction I’m consuming.

Speaking of consuming... eating feels more like foraging - because I don’t really enjoy it. I’d rather skip it, but I’m already losing too much weight. So I have a big bowl of bolus and wash it down with some diet self-pity. It’s the humble pie serving for one.

At night, there’s always something else to do that I’m doing my best to ignore. It’s as fun as it sounds. Maybe even better. It rained all day.

But I haven’t given up hope; I’m searching for my rainbow. I’m making it through one little bit at a time. It’s the best I can do for now.

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While you’re away...

Staying busy. Staying distracted - so that thoughts like “I have no one to play for” - are crowded out.

Not feeling too heavy to work, but not fully engaged either. Hard to stay focused. Just want to leave already. Stay a little later. Push through it.

Boxing at night is a relief. But knowing that no one was waiting for me inside, I didn’t leave the garage without some joint relief.

So much to think about when the night is upon me. Lots of driving tomorrow. Plenty of time to self-indulge.

Stay busy. Stay distracted. Oh, and water the plants.

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Together

Scientists have problems studying the deep water fish, because it needs the pressure and weight of the ocean to keep it in tact. Without that pressure, as you bring it close to the surface, it explodes.

While this time of no-job has been an emotional roller coaster, I’m glad that we could ride it together because I love you with the completeness of my heart. Having you emerge from the depths and weight of the ocean was so tough on you. But I sat there as your companion in complete belief and admiration in you and your fighting spirit. You never give up.

And in the long hours we’ve had together, I’ve remembered just how much I enjoy your company and companionship. I’ve seen the shine come back into your eyes and the brilliance of your smile become brighter. I’ve felt the energies and love in your heart expand and envelop me and your loved ones. I’ve fallen in love with you again and again - utterly charmed by how completely adorable you are.

During this time, you’ve cared for me in every conceivable way - physically, emotionally and in all the unique ways you show you love me. Whether it’s a breakfast and lunch, or a new blanket, or flipping laundry or most of all, building a home, I feel you every step of the way - and I am so grateful and profoundly touched.

Coming out of these challenging times with you is like seeing the sun after it’s been cloudy for months. I’ve never imagined a partnership, an intimacy, a companionship like ours - with a shared reliance on each other. I feel it deep in my core whenever I see your sunlight-like smile.

I love you, Jelly Bean. More than I can say.

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I was listening to this song and it completely reminded me of you. I’ve highlighted the specific lyrics. In this case, you are the sun.

Beatles: Here Comes The Sun

Here comes the sun (doo doo doo doo) Here comes the sun, and I say It's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say It's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say It's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes Sun, sun, sun, here it comes Sun, sun, sun, here it comes Sun, sun, sun, here it comes Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say It's all right

Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say It's all right It's all right

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A Tiger’s Tears

Let the Tiger Eye tear drops represent a profoundly beautiful sadness

With the two of us finding solace and companionship in the middle

Let it encircle your finger (far too big) as I would your heart (also too big)

Know that you are loved; that you are wanted; that you are needed; that you are desired

Let us share a Tiger’s Tears as we prance before bed - asking to be neighbors -

Welcome home, Biz. I’m here to love you.

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Loving Our Daughters

“What’s your why?” I don’t have one. My “why” is a “who” because I’m not motivated by things or “whats.”

Of course we love our children. We want them to be happy and healthy and naturally, fearlessly themselves. How we get there depends on the parent and the child. I think that way, fathers have a different responsibility to their daughters.

Our daughters were learn from us how “men” are supposed to be. They will never expect to be treated better than the way we treat them. They will come to learn what they “deserve” based on how we see, hear, listen to, and understand them. Trust, belief and loyalty in their relationships will be modeled by how we treat them and their moms.

For the young woman, I am blessed to be a part of her life. I see in her grace unfolding, the slow unfurling of her petals as she cranes her face skyward where she keeps her dreams. She is incandescently beautiful on the inside and out - but even in our limited time together, the responsibility falls to me to be the one to appreciate the exterior and recognize and celebrate the interior. She is learning that she matters, that she makes a difference, and that she’s important, if only through her reflection in my eyes. 

For the pumpkin, I have tried to be the strong one, the consistent one, the one who sees her, the one who hears her. We’ve crafted our own secret language of the two musicians in the family. We’ve carved out our intimacies. Most of all, I’ve tried to lift her up, high above the rest of the world, and hold her protectively in my strong arms for each moment we have together.

If I don’t have my children, I don’t have a “why” anymore. Needless to say, without my children in the world, I have no reason to exist. Given a limited time with them, it feels like a small death every time I say goodbye... or a larger death when it’s going to be a while.

When I drove the girl home, I told her that we’ll be brave together. “You are my heart, Z. You carry my heart with you when you go, so I’m always with you. I keep you inside of me too.”

She paused and sang the song lyric, “Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be...”

Through crystal tears that threatened to obscure the road, I said, “You got it, sweetie. Even when we’re apart, we’re a part of each other. Then we’ll make being together even more of a celebration.” 

After several more hugs and the desperate quest to say something profound, I gave up, got in my car, and waved to her inside the doorway as I drove away. I’m finding it’s really painful trying to walk around without your heart in your chest, while it drives hours away and out of my immediate life. I’m finding it very difficult to live up to my promise of being brave.

But I am, first and foremost, a father. I will survive however I have to, and spend the rest of my days finding again those opportunities to pour love straight from my chest, back to the hearts it once held inside.

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Playing House As children, we used to play House. We'd joyfully enact what we'd imagined or seen our parents doing, finding our way in the gender roles we'd eventually assume. I don't recall how realistic we were, but I always had fun. Many years later, we've both run households. We've been parents both coupled and divorced. We've had to have our realities head on and without time for illusions. Here and now, running a household with you, we've found out roles. We've seamlessly filled in the cracks for our children. We've found out ways as a team, a tribe, a unit to which each contributes uniquely and supports the others. The mind boggling thing is that it's so easy with you that it feels like I'm just Playing House again. There's you and me - not without our own issues - just supporting and loving and making it easier for everyone. Thank God for you, Biz. You are a blessing.

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Your Mom

The Chinese word for grandmother is “Popo” which translates as “woman woman,” implying the ultimate mother. Your mom is the embodiment of that. She’s generous as the earth that gave birth to the family - generous with her time, her cooking, her playfulness, and her open adoration of her family. Watching her playing or singing or hugging or eating sweets or cheering soccer is a complete joy (and really reminds me of you). She’s so inspiring that when she laughs, the whole world laughs with her.

The Chinese word for love is made from two words “mother and child.”

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My Mom

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Your Dad

Your dad sat on the couch, happily holding your mom. I sat next to them just watching them enjoy the chaos of family. He wanted more than anything for everyone to be happy, to have a wonderful experience, in all the different combinations. In the middle of the frenzy of people talking over each other and kids running about, and even the TV on, he looked at me and started talking about his mom.

He knew that I didn’t want to have a long conversation, so he kept my end going. He talking about losing his mother, his father, and how your mom lost her mother. He told me about the grieving process for him and how it never really stops. He even continued after you sat next to me.

Even though his wife and daughter were sitting between us, he talked so intimately and candidly, with such care and kindness. Soon his eyes welled up with tears, and he felt no embarrassment wiping his eyes. I was utterly struck by this loving man and this intimate conversation in a room full of people. 

Soon enough someone wanted his attention and up he went to give some more to someone else, but not before leaving a lasting impact on me. What a beautiful man. What a beautiful family.

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I love you so much!

Prayer for your and your family

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Friends with Beneficiaries

Being an insurance man isn’t easy. It takes hard work, guts, an appetite for rejection and it helps if you have an addiction or two to feed. The long days pass like kidney stones; painfully and with a lot of sedatives (mixed with stimulants for balance). But despite the long hours, you’re really compensated with lousy pay and poor management. You gotta be a little twisted to do this job. You either come in that way, or get there. Yes, it’s a glamorous life, but you find occasional surprises like this dark and stormy night.

Wester-Villians are used to it. Sometimes the sky opens up and vomits rain on you. You can try to time it, but eventually it’ll get you. This time, it was perfectly timed from the time I got out of my car, to the time I got to the front porch. I looked like I had showered in my clothes, but I rang the doorbell anyway.

The door opened to this amazing dark eyed beauty looking up at me. (It’s also kinda amazing that she was looking up at me because I’m pretty short.) I identified myself and my company, and she welcomed me in. “Goodness,” she said in a sultry voice. “You are soaked!”

“Yes,” I said looking at myself, “I’m sorry. I can’t track water into your house.”

“Agreed,” she said. “You’ll just have to leave your clothes at the door.”

“What?” I asked.

“You can’t go out with the weather like that. You can’t stand here on the porch. You can’t create a puddle in my living room, so I’ll get you a towel, and you can let me dry those clothes.” She eyed me up and down, clearly appreciating the way my wet clothes hung on me.

I could tell that she would have no argument, so I stepped in the entrance and waited for her to get me a towel. When she turned around, my eyes wandered down and I thought, “man, I’d like to tap that asset.” As if reading my mind, she wiggled provocatively - both going and coming back a moment later.

“Clothes off, now,” she said simply. Definitely a Driver personality. My pitch would have to be direct if I was going to close with a wet signature. “Jock strap too.” She eyed me up and down with an approving smile, but when I reached for the towel, she pulled it back. “Uh-uh-uh,” she reprimanded. “I’ll dry you off,” and started doing so.

Her hands ran up and down me greedily, like she was frisking me for something under my skin, searching for something… like my desire for a sale which was starting to swell. “You know,” I said, “you’re going to get all wet too.”

“My clothes are clearly wet,” she said.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “Your turn. After you strip, we’ll talk about coverage.”

Magically we were in the bedroom, because I’m the writer and I don’t do transitions well. We were naked as two people not wearing any clothes, literally. “Have you heard about BAR?” I asked.

“I can see yours is rock hard,” she said. “I’d like to do a taste test.”

I looked down to realize that I was as hard as Chinese math. She would have said more, but it’s impolite to talk with your mouth full. I groaned like someone who hasn’t sufficiently prepared for his retirement.

After an immeasurable amount of time, she smiled and asked, “Do you want to add a rider?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, “friends with benefits have access to this rider.” Then she rode me like I was a championship bull and she was trying to qualify for the rodeo. Yep, this was a wilder ride than the stock market crash of 2008. I was peaking soon and called out to ask if I should pull out (or just keep everything in and wait for the recovery, which would be a lot sooner than most predicted).

“No! I want your. Highest. Uh. Daily. Uh-huh. INCOME!” and as one, we found a new market peak and exploded our prior rate of return all over the sheets.

I closed the sale. Definitely a bull run.

Then she rolled over and turned on a fan because she was having a hot flash. I’d let her cool, but I wanted more of this hot tamale. “Don’t go to far, baby girl,” I said.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“You won’t get far before the craving sets in. Bang. Time for some sweet, sweet candy,” I said. It’s true. You know what they say about eating Chinese; you’re hungry again in an hour. “Plus, these pills are good for another ten hours, mamasita.”

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I know I’ve posted this before, but it’s the song I’m singing in my head to you currently, so I thought I’d share so you can have it in your head.

The Police: The Bed’s Too Big Without You