My Brown Eyed Boy

     Not too long ago, I read a post that started with these words:  

     "While time does offer some relief and a new sense of normal, there are still countless emotions and sensations to muddle through.  There is no roadmap or guidebook that works in all cases or scenarios and while the stories of others can offer guidance, they cannot tell you how your journey is going to unfold.


     All too often, I forget that Ryan was only 10 when his Mom was born into eternity and he still has moments when he is processing all that has happened in his young life.  He has made tremendous progress on his road to healing, but still there are some potholes in that road that manifest themselves in the form of a "blown out tire".
     
    My boy is the perfect combination of his Mom and I.  Every time I look at him, I see those big brown eyes and am reminded just how much he looks like Theresa.  I love to tell him that he's fortunate he got his looks from his Mom and not from me!  He also got his complex emotional makeup from his Mom.

     One of the hardest things you encounter, especially with children, is memories are found all over town.  Every time we went to church, it was the church his Mom was buried in.  Every time we went to a restaurant, it was a restaurant his Mom went to.  Every time we walked into our house, it was the house his Mom died in.  We moved from that house to another one, in another part of the Tucson area.  While that helped to eliminate some of the memories, there was no getting away from the ones all over town.

     Over the past year so many things that seemed like roadblocks and foolish detours, have shown themselves to be essential in the journey of mending while blending.  In no particular order, our family has had to figure out how to get through all of these things:

• Dealing with Ryan in a new school, a new district and middle school - Middle school is trying for anyone..but how much more trying for a child with autism, dealing with the loss of a parent and dealing with a school staff who really aren't trained to handle that child. 

• Dealing with Jennie's girl's father -  Here was a guy who first said that he was ok with Jennie taking the girls to Tucson.  His exact words were, I'm not going to fight about a couple of miles.  Despite repeated assurances that he was going to have this document drafted, he changed his mind putting up another hurdle for us.

• Counseling - To help Ryan along his journey, we visited several counselors for him to work out his feelings and emotions.  None of the ones we used were able to crack through the exterior.

• Single dad - No matter how much you care, no matter how hard you try, a Dad just can't be a Mom.  Of course, that is true in reverse as well.

• Outside influences - There were many things people said, things people did that caused hurdles for us.  One of the strangest series of questions came along the line of:  Have the children met?  Is the father of the girls still in the picture?  Do the children get along?  

• The moving of Jennie to Tucson - While this one seemed to be a giant cluster, it turned out to be a great move.  When we realized that the girl's father had been stringing us along, I called my boss the next day to see what my odds of moving to PX HQC were.  He told me he would check and within 24 hours, I had the approvals I needed from FBI management to make that happen.  I put my papers in for the move and it was approved, with a report date of December 17th.

• Jennie knew of a school called Gateway academy that specializes in kids on the autism spectrum.  We visited the school and knew it would be a great fit.  The only issues was the tuition of $25K per year.  Again, the hurdle was overcome when Ryan qualified for an ESA scholarship that pays the entire amount.

• We found a great house in Cave Creek with a floor plan that was ideal for our unique family situation.  We have a guest casita for Mom, two jack n jill bedrooms for the girls, one bedroom with bathroom on the other side of the house for Ryan and a master bedroom away from all the craziness. 

• We found a counselor that Ryan has opened up too, and one that is making a difference.

   As I said above, things that seemed like roadblocks have turned out to be blessings:

   After Ryan was established at Gateway, things came up that he had been holding in for nearly 2 years.  Despite numerous counselors and long talks about how he was doing, it took a school administrator knowing how to deal with an autistic child to get it out.  One morning he got up for breakfast and his mom was sitting at the table.  He said hi to her and she responded back, "Who are you?"  He thought she was joking and said, "It's me, Ryan, your son."  She shook her head, got up from the table and went back to her bedroom.  He kept that to himself, finally telling me that he lost his mom well before she died.  I knew the time frame and the cause of that.  There was a period of time where she was talking to much of the Oxycontin and it caused several issues of forgetfulness and confusion.  We were able to get that out in the open, get that cleared up and able to move his past that.  All of this happened because of a move to a purpose built school that did not exist in Tucson.

  More importantly, the smile has returned to his face again.  While we still have much work to do in the journey forward, it helps tremendously that he again sees the joy in life.  Thank you to all who have encouraged us along the way; thank you to all who have put up roadblocks along the way, encouraging us to smash them; thank you to Jennie for loving us and stepping in to the breach with me.  My boy is in good hands.  He has three moms watching out for him, (The Holy Theotokos, Theresa and Jennie).  The proof is in the pictures....

Christ is Risen!

Indeed He is Risen!

☦

The Perils of The Paths We Walk

     When you are blending two families together, both Chapter 2's, there are really only two paths that the parties have walked...death or divorce.  It would be rare to be in your mid to late 40's having never been married and looking to start down that road.  Given those two paths, the large majority involve divorce.

     Over the past few years, I have said many times that I believe it is easier dealing with the death of a spouse that it is dealing with the death of a marriage.  The past year has really reinforced that belief in me as I've watched Jennie navigate a world of co-parenting with a self-centered, narcissist.

    More than a year ago, as we both could see our future together, Jennie brought up the possibility of moving from Phoenix to Tucson.  In Arizona there is language in parenting plans that prohibits a spouse from moving more than 100 miles absent the agreement of the other parent.  At that point in time, the other parent in the situation was an every other weekend kind of parent...the proverbial Disneyland dad.  Anytime he was asked to pick up a few more days, he was always quick to point out that he did that.  Jennie had the opportunity to take her oldest to Rome and the other parent had to point out that he stepped up during that time.

     When she approached him about the possibility, he said he needed more time to think about it.  He made mention that he was going to approach her for more parenting time and that he felt like he was getting "screwed" out of that time.  We knew from her attorney that any request for more time would kill a move to Tucson.  He came back a week or so later and said that he was on-board with her moving to Tucson.  There was a laundry list of items that he demanded, but the key issue was agreed to.  He wanted to hire the attorney and get the agreement hammered out.  Weeks turned into a month and he kept dragging his feet.  When asked point blank if he was changing his mind he said no.  That turned out to be a lie as he was consulting an attorney about a 50/50 parenting agreement.

     To be clear, I think it is a great idea that he finally stepped up and took some responsibility for his kids. But, as the saying goes, once a liar, always a liar.  Instead of being a man and saying I am changing my mind, he strung her along until he was ready to drop the bomb on her.  That process was a roller-coaster of emotion for Jennie.  For 9 years, she was the primary caregiver to her children.  While married, she was a stay-at-home mother and her husband, always in pursuit of loftier career goals, was on the road travelling for most of the year.  After her divorce, she was forced to return to work and be the primary caregiver as well.  And in one quick decision, her entire world was upended.


     The dictionary definition of narcissism is:  extreme selfishness, with a grandiose view of one's own talents and a craving for admiration, as characterizing a personality type.  How the past year has also revealed that.  For the other parent, money and career success appear to be the big driver in their life.  After moving past the 50/50 split and adjusting to that, money for the kids, and the control that comes with that, has been the biggest issue.  When they were married, the kids attended private school.  They continue to attend private school and will do so until they graduate.  The other parent pays 0 towards their education.  Not even $1 towards the annual registration fees for his children.

    For years the children have been unable to be involved in any after school activities.  While the other parent was paying child support, it barely covered the cost of putting a roof over his childrens' head.  That's the dirty secret of divorce.  The parent who makes the most money pays for the support of their kids, but it comes nowhere near the financial cost imposed on the family after their transgressions wrecked the kids world.  All of her income was tied up in providing the basic necessities for the kids.  Anytime the other parent was approached for money for an activity, the answer was always the same...I just don't have any free money available right now. 

     The cycle of money continued throughout the year.  As the children wanted to go to gymnastics, all the other parent could offer up was $40 per month.  When asked about helping with school supplies, the best he could offer up for 50% of the total, even though he makes 76% of the combined income and contributes nothing to their tuition/fees.  And even getting that amount out of him was like pulling teeth for Jennie.  He wanted a detailed list of what the purchased items were.

    Finally, there appeared to be a breakthrough as he graciously agreed to up his monthly contributions for activities to $100.  In addition, he was fully paying for gymnastics for one child, which got him a whole lot closer to the court approved split percentage.  However, the leopard doesn't change his spots.  After 2 months of short-paying the contribution amount, that amount came to a halt.  You see, even though the wording of previous emails was: "I'll bump what is send you monthly up to $100" You see, send monthly implies a continuing amount that can be used to cover activities, that will ebb and flow.  But to the other parent, that only applies if there is a certain cost to cover that month.

     There is a great summer camp in the midwest that one of the children wanted to attend.  The price was off the charts expensive and a long way from Arizona.  Financial aid was awarded for most of the camp expense, leaving $800 plus airfare to be covered.  Other than being very clear about only contributing $300, there was no issue with the distance from home or time away on the part of the other parent.   Great, fair enough.  We will cover the rest plus airfare for a great opportunity for growth for one of the kids.  Part of that decision was believing the $100 per month was still going to come in, which now is up in the air.  When asked about this, the passive aggressiveness came out in full force.   The line has now changed to I'm able to pay $300 for this very expensive and far away camp.  He managed to work that phrase in twice in one paragraph.  And now, he suddenly is concerned about who is going to fly to and from with the child.  Will that be the next objection he has?

    And in the same message, a summer math camp came up.  Not even 2 weeks prior, Mr. Wonderful agreed to pay his 76% towards a summer math camp.  But suddenly, he is unable to find where he agreed to that and says that is not how he recalls that topic being discussed.  Thankfully, Jennie keeps everything and was able to provide him a screen shot of that communication.  In her dealings with him, it's like dealing with El Diablo.

    It is difficult being the Chapter 2 in a situation where her Chapter 1 was/is such a dsyfunctional, controlling and narcissistic person.  It pains me to see the emotional toil that he continues to put on Jennie and will do so until the children have all reached adulthood.  I love this woman more than anything else and together we will navigate the next 11 years as we already have.

     To any men out there who find themselves in a similar position, don't be an ass hat like this guy.  Please put your kids needs  above yours.  I'm not suggesting you give them everything they ask for, but really, $100 per month is too much for activities?  That's just about covers the cost of dinner and wine out one night.

    I  leave you with this picture.  I saw it on a jeep last year while still living in Tucson.  I sent it to Jennie and we both got a good laugh out of it. Lord knows I can't fall off the floor.

Chapter 2

In our lives, there is love and death. Like some crazy movie script, these two realities are intertwined; woven like some twisted joke that gets played on
everyone.

 Most of us know love. We know the feeling that comes from falling in love and finding that special person. Sometimes, it takes us a few swings of the bat to get the home run, but ultimately it happens for us. But, when you put yourself out there for another person, you open yourself up to loss. Sometimes it happens when you are old and grey, other times it happens when you are just grey. Sometimes it happens after 50 years, others after 21.

  At the ripe old age of 16 I met her. I thought it was pretty cool that she wanted to play football with the guys on Saturday. Years later I learned that was her way of trying to get my attention. There was something special about her, something magical.

We had our starts and stops, especially during the college years. But we found ourselves together, ready to take on he world and all the things that would come our way. We moved 6 times, to three different states. We found ourselves wrapping our head around infertility, the loss of a parent, the loss of an unborn child.

 In our life, I learned so much from our time together. We grew up together, we learned how to be adults together. We learned how to parent an autistic child together. And yet, in her death, I learned so much more about life; so much more about what it means to give yourself up for another person. Ours was not a perfect union, none-are. However, it was ours, the good and the bad. For 10 days shy of 21 years, she was my better half. We truly complimented each other. Where I was strong, she was weak. Where I was weak, she was strong. And 10 months after getting the inital diagnosis, the life was taken from her eyes.

Those who have gone through loss, gone through grief know that life is not replaceable. What was lost is forever lost. You can never replace one human being with another. What you had stays with you forever; what you lost stays with you for the remainder of your days. It is what it is and you are forever changed.

Reading all of that might drive some to the edge. I'm going to live with this for the rest of my life? Yes, but hope springs eternal. The human heart is made for love. There is an infinite ability to expand, to love. I remember a story my mom told when my brother John asked her which one of your kids do you love best? She told him that she loves each one equally, even though the real answer was child number 3.

When the time came to open myself up to a new life, I was willing to risk the pain, the loss, the grief, all in the name of unforseen happiness for an unknown amount of weeks, months or years. There was the fear of being letdown, the fear of opening up and being shut-down, the fear of not having what I had with Theresa. I was going to have to risk all of that in order to move forward in life. And that was OK. What I had with Theresa was unique to Theresa and I. What eventually would come next would be unique to me and the woman lucky enough to share deep and unrelenting love of life, post loss. They say that expectations are often our greatest hurdle to happiness. We expect perfection, we expect familiarity, we expect the happy ending.

But happy endings are a lie, a giant pile of BS. For in every ending, there is sadness. It doesn't matter if it happens when you are 95 or 45. Goodbye means an ending and in an ending there is always some sadness. In the mortal life, joy comes from the journey, not the destination. It takes a unique person to love again after great loss and a special soul to accept such love. That love is ripe with complexity, rich hues and detailed tapestries. The grieving grasp the shortness of life and appreciating the beauty of the moment. Those who have lost know that nothing is guaranteed. To those whom who much is given, much is expected. I have been give many gifts through the process. We pray in our Divine Liturgy, "For every good gift, ever perfect gift is from above, coming down from You the Father of lights".

I've been blessed beyond all comprehension to have found my good gift, my perfect gift. Jennie and I are both Chapter 2's, coming to that place in life by vastly different paths. Things that she has to deal with are foreign to me. There is no shared custody for me, there is no having to put on a happy face in front of her kids with the guy who tossed their life into chaos. There is another woman in her kids life, someone she has to share 1/2 of the kids time with. All of these things are unique to spouses of divorce. I told Jennie one time that I think it is easier to deal with the death of a spouse than it is to deal with the death of a marriage through divorce. I've held her hand, talked her off the ledge when her ex-spouse changed his mind over custody and parental visitation. When he sat in her kitchen and lied to her face, saying he wasn't changing his mind on custody when he had already visited with an attorney to begin the process of changing the arrangement. In those differing paths, I see pain in our kids.

For Ryan, it's the sadness of never seeing his mom again, never hearing her voice, never having her attend the milestones in his life. In a strange twist of irony, the pain for Jennie's girls comes from the pain of having both of their parents in their lives, just not at the same time; sharing their mom with a new man and his kid; sharing their dad with a new woman and her kids. Traveling to a new home every couple of days.   And yet, there is such great hope for all of us. The joy of hearing Ryan ask when we are going to see the girls again, the joy of hearing him tell her good night and love you. The joy of hearing him say he can't wait until we are all in the same house. The joy of getting pictures from Jennie's girls, the silly faces, the smiles, the overwhelming use of emojis. The crazy roadtrip to San Diego, the joy of seeing the first reconciliation. The joy of having in-laws who actually like me. The joy of #GUTI.

Both of us are mending while we are blending. We are born to love, wired to connect and long for companionship. I've been blessed with two great loves in this life. While they share many great qualities, they are not comparable. Each have a spot in my heart, each of them is unique and wonderful. Jennie is my perfect complement. In those areas where I'm weak, she is so strong. In those areas where she is weak, I'm the strong one. My girl is a feeler and that is rubbing off on me. It is well with my soul. They each have a place in my life, like independent chapters of a damn good book. For those who face a similar fork in the road, quiet the crowd and listen to the voice of your own heart. You are not required to live your life within a box built by a stifled culture that is unwilling to accept growth, change and re-birth. Learn the fine art of saying $#@% off.

 My priest likes to ask the question how many books are there in the bible. When someone rightly answers 73, he says no, there are 74. The 73 the church included and the last one you are writing. With all due respect to Father, there are 75 in my book.

 This is your life to live. This is your story to write. Your loss did not end your ability to write new chapters in your book of life. After all, the chapters you still have to write might well be the best part of your story. I so love my chapter 2 and I believe it will be the best damn story written by man. Every good gift, every perfect gift is from above coming down from You the Father of lights. Jennie Stine, you are my good and perfect gift.

Discernment - Should I Stay Or Should I Go

Discernment is a word in the English language that does not get used much in our modern world. In a Christian context, it is perception in the absence of judgment with a view to obtaining spiritual direction and understanding.

In 2013, I started discerning a call to the ordained ministry in the Byzantine Ruthenian Catholic Church. Through prayer, spiritual direction and encouragement I applied and was accepted to the 2015-2019 Deacon Formation Class at St. Cyril & Methodius Seminary. And ever since that acceptance, I have been in a constant state of discernment. One of my favorite prayers contains the words, “make straight our path, confirm us in the holy fear of you”…My path of study, formation and discernment was anything but straight.

 During the application phase, I was dealing with an aging mother diagnosed with Stage III ovarian cancer. As we all started to settle into a routine and I was about to leave for my first summer session at the seminary, Theresa was diagnosed with a rare, aggressive form of breast cancer. Everything I had in me told me to withdraw from the program and take care of things at home. However, I was made to promise that I would get on the airplane and make my first trip to Pittsburgh. No one could have predicted that before I finished my first year of formation and distance learning I would encounter one of the largest bumps in the road: the death of my spouse and my child’s mother. Yet, through all of that, I got on the plane again, made my way to Pittsburgh and completed the second year of in-residence classes.

The second year of distance learning and formation was anything but straight. There were so many distractions and peaks/valleys, several that I brought on myself, others that just go with the job description of single parent to a special needs child. Through all of this, I managed to rock the academic portion of my formation. My grades in year 2 were better than year 1 and year 1 was pretty damn good. The other parts of formation: Spiritual, Human, Pastoral…not so much. Although I would argue that I have been through an aspect of pastoral formation that no celibate priest has ever been through and never will go through…walking yourself and your 10 year old child through the death of a spouse.

To be perfectly clear, there were mistakes that I made along the way. There were many missteps that I made along the way. We learn from those mistakes/missteps and we move on. And to be unequivocally clear, as Keith Urban says, “I’ve forgiven myself for the mistakes I’ve made”. If you want to question me, criticize me, you better have walked a similar path to me. You say that you have lost your parent(s)? Yep, me too in 2003, right before I made a giant career change and moved to Quantico, VA to begin training as an FBI agent. I can tell you, with zero hesitancy or uncertainty, that losing a parent is low in the stress department compared to losing your child’s mother.

 That statement is not to trivialize the loss of a parent, but until you have walked my path, you don’t know what you would do in the same situation. And speaking frankly, I don’t care what you think you would do. It’s all speculative on your part. All of that background brings me where I am at today.

When I went back to Pittsburgh, I thought that maybe I was over the hump and year 3 and 4 would be good to me. As it turns out, the discernment phase was about to hit a critical mass. Any candidate for holy orders, diaconate or presbyterate, live in a fishbowl. A big, giant, fishbowl that all people look in on. At any step of the process, anyone involved in formation, to include the candidate, can say this is not a good fit at this time.

Truly I was at a fork in the road and needed to make a decision. I spent several hours, sitting in the seminary chapel, with only candlelight in front of the icons. My prayer, as it has been so many times, was simple….Lord, make straight my path and let me know if the path I’m on is the right one. I woke up the next morning with a feeling that my primary vocation was to family, and not the parish family at this time. I am called to be a husband and father first, and maybe an ordained deacon at some future time.

This path was made clearer to me when I found out that my Eparchy would require me to wait approximately 5 years after remarriage to apply for formation. In order to make sure that no feelings are hurt or bridges are burned, I completely understand that decision and know that it is founded in the best interest of everyone involved.

I wanted to know what that meant for my intellectual formation. Much of year 3 and 4 is focused on the mechanics and specifics of being a deacon. If I continued with my studies, would my eparchy accept that when the time came or would I be dragging my sorry butt back to Pittsburgh to start anew. Sadly, no one seemed to know that answer and I made the decision to withdraw from the entire formation program at that time. There is a financial and time commitment that I don’t see a positive ROI at this time.

 The decision came to me driving to work and it came relatively easy. I am going to miss the 15 guys that remain in the program. They are good, holy men, and I am not sure I am at their level right now. I see some road trips in our future when they are ordained to the Diaconate. I won’t be surprised if there are a few presbyteral ordinations in their future as well. I can see my long bearded friend, AG, as my future spiritual director!

One thing I know is that Ryan needs a loving family more than he needs a Fr. Deacon Patrick. And I need a loving family more than I need a murmuring mass of humanity at this point in my journey. I have found that, and that vocation deserves my undivided attention. I can still be of service to my current parish, my new parish - wherever that may be- and to the people I will meet along the way. Life ain’t always beautiful, but it’s a beautiful ride.

 “ Lord, blessing those who bless you and sanctifying those who trust in you, save your people and bless your inheritance….Grant peace to yourd world, to your churches, to the priests, to our government, and to all your people. For all generous giving and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from you, the Father of Lights; and we give glory, thanksgiving, and worship to you, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever and to the ages of ages.”  

Turn The Page

4,589 days. That is the number of days from 9/20/2004 to 4/14/2017. That is also the number of days that I owned the house at 7W Calle Mantilla. In those 4,589 days there we so many good memories in Sahuarita and a few not so good ones.

The initial closing date was supposed to be 4/21/2017, but that was moved up at the request of the buyers. Anxious to stop paying two mortgages, I was happy to accelerate the closing date. The packing & boxing of everything started in earnest on Friday 4/7/2017 and that brought some sadness to Ryan. On Sunday he was pretty ramped up and when I finally got him to talk about what was going on, he said that the process of getting things ready to move made it all real. He said that he now knows this isn’t a dream that he was having, hoping that he would wake up and his life would be the same as it was BC (before cancer).

We talked a lot about that and he ended up in a much better place at the end of the talk than he was at the beginning of it. We talked a lot about how we were writing the ending of the first book, while we have already started writing the beginning of the second book. That seemed to resonate with him.

The movers were scheduled for 4/11/2017 and within a couple of hours they had substantially everything removed from the house. We ended up carting some stuff away in the cars, making several trips. Stopping by one last time on Thursday 4/13/2017, I stood in the empty house that was about to no longer be mine. Wow, there was a flood of memories that came to mind.

 They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are several thousands of words to those memories.