Every Moment Counts

About a month ago I had called my wife to ask a question, I don’t remember what it was about, but as I was trying to get off the phone she told me my son wanted to talk to me.  I remember being in a hurry and said I would call back.  “Are you really not going to talk to your son”?  Together or not my wife knows how to get my attention and she loves to do it too.
“Did you say no daddy”? You need to understand my son is the sweetest little guy you have ever met.  Don’t get me wrong, he’s a boy.  He loves his Woody and Buzz and Jesse dolls, Lightning McQueen is the man to him, he eats like a monster if you serve him pizza or macaroni and cheese, and refuses to eat anything if you serve pretty much anything else, and more than anything he loves to aggravate his sisters.  You hear his little voice though and immediately you see how delicate he is.  He is just a good little guy who doesn’t want his little feelings hurt.


“Daddy did you say no”?  

On the exterior I remained real calm and simply said “Of course not buddy”, but inside I was on my knees begging for him to stop asking me that.  That little voice and that direct of a question fueled by such a pure need, man it’s powerful.   I spent the majority of their lives, all of my kids lives, gone.  I was so self absorbed and consumed by darkness.  I wonder how many times I walked by each of them and they reached out to me and I didn’t even see it because I was just looking to get out the door.  That guilt is crushing.  No I don’t dwell on it, but it’s not an easy one to forget.
As a parent from the time your children start walkin until they are about 5 years old a lot of people think their job is to just keep their kids alive.  At least that was my thinking.  I think I justified my basic abandonment of them because their mom is a good mom, they’re safe.  Isn’t it amazing how we can look at a completely insane thought and go “yeah that makes sense”?
Today I see my children on Wednesdays and on weekends.  I don’t get to wake up with them.  I rarely get to tuck them in.  When I am with them today though I cannot get enough of them.  I want them all sitting on my lap at once with my arms wrapped around them.  I pay attention to everything they say.  I answer every question.  I make everything they do a big deal.  I try to set boundaries and I don’t let them get away…. Okay that’s a big fat lie, but I do set some boundaries so they don’t just walk all over me (not all the time at least).  Most of our time is spent at the park or at McDonalds, and I am not just their to appease them for 15 minutes at which time I can load them up and take them back to mommy.  I spoil them, and play with them, and feed them junk food and make them laugh until they feel like they’re gonna puke because they are great kids and they deserve a lot more from me than a vanishing act.  Isn't it ironic how these little people are the biggest victims of my past, and they love me more than anything, unconditionally. 

What a blessing.

All I Ever Wanted To Be Was A Hells Angel

  I grew up in the foothills of San Leandro, California.  Just outside of Oakland.  Beautiful climate, dangerous enviornment.  It is the central nerve of Northern California, where all of the races collide.  Many black, hispanic, asian, phillipino gangs all separated in the avenues.  I don't mean a rowdy group of teens.  I am talking about 2-3 generations of commitment.  I remember being very young and driving down to the bottom of our hill to E14th st where all the avenues end and as we came to the stop light I heard the coming of a loud roar.  I sat up in my seat and looked out the window.  As I did the roar had almost consumed any other sound and at that moment  I saw the flash of black, denim, and shiny chrome.    "Dad who are those guys"?  My eyes were wide and I was in complete awe of this uniformed group riding loud motorcycles in a tight formation.  Man that was a powerful sight. 

"Hells Angels". 

  I remember going to class the next school day and during "show and tell" (even though I don't think that is what we called it in that class) I got up and told everyone what I'd seen. "Big deal my mom's boyfriend is a Hells Angel" I think Elton Texiera said (what a putz, I used to beat the crap out of him anyways). It was a big deal to me, but what was an even bigger deal was that everyone else had a connection of some kind to them.  I wanted one.  Man I wanted to be one.  To me they were like superheroes.
 Over the years I have been a part of many groups.  From the titans of industry and finance to the titans of going nowhere fast.  I was always in search of that comeraderie, that loyalty.  I wanted to feel like I mattered to someone. that I was likeable and worthy of even being on this planet with the rest of you.  No matter where I went.  No matter who I was with there was nobody cool enough to make me cool, nobody beautiful enough to make me beautiful, and no one okay enough to make me feel okay. For so much of my life I felt completely uncomfortable in my own skin. I felt cursed and I spent half of my life trying to kill that pain.
  All of the things that I have shared in these writings and will share is the stuff I would never talk about.  I thought that talking about it would make me weak in the eyes of others, and truthfully all I have ever wanted was not to be a gangster.... All I ever wanted was to just feel like I belonged.