A father's life
Friday, February 28, 2003
About an hour and a half ago, I received a call from my friend, Alex who told me that our friend, Gary, died (not yesterday's Gary; a different man). Gary had a several year relationship with cancer in various forms. Alex was with him and reported that he passed peacefully. It was expected and still difficult.
A father of two in his early 40's.
Successful in many ways
Kind. Gentle.
And dead.
The funeral will be on Sunday to honor his life. It came too soon. How many reminders do i need about the preciousness of life and enjoying the important things in it much more. What a kind and beautiful man. So loving to so many. About two weeks ago, he to stop medication and that he wanted to die. It took onger than the doctors told him (they're full of shit, he said).
Kindness and patience ripen seeds into delicious fruit that remind us with each bite of previous times when we watered with pleasure. I want to be there with Jack and provide him with the care of a tireless farmer.
I got to the office at 8:40 and worked my typical Friday schedule leaving at 5. Some days, I'm there until 6:30PM. Most days, I work until 5:20 and take the 5:40 home. A client told me that they wanted to arange for several interviews with applicants of mine and another told me abot a high salary hiring opportunity. Terry, my friend with whom I work has been working hard without success. It's been afrustrating time at work and it was good to have lunch with her, speak candidly with her and to come back and have a good work afternoon.
Sharon & Jack went with Maigul to visit another family who live in Bucks County so I've come home to an empty house. It feels so different because I still sense their energy here. When they get home, Jack will be long asleep during the ride and Sharon will be exhausted.
We played with his tops this morning and I gave him his "apple saucie" as he pronounces it. He looked very ahpy to be with me and I know I was with him. Tomorrow, he and I go to Zach's Bar-Mitzvah while Sharon goes to school. I wonder if I will have a chance to sit much.
I'm pretty sure I know the answer.
What does it mean to be a man? How do you help a boy transition from being a boy to being a man? No, this is nothing that I am helping Jack with now, but questions my friend, Gary, hoped to start helping his son to explore in anticipation of his Bar-Mitzvah, the Jewish right of passage into manhood.
Gary brought 14 men together with his son, who like most good adolescents, thought it was all stupied and, initially, seemed intent and not participating or listening. We spoke with him about many themes including what it meant to be a man, showed him pictures of ourselves at his age and told him what we thought at that time and how we hoped to be seen today by that same 13 year old, ate food, explained what the sword symbolized in a "knighting ceremony" (Gary had a symbolic (though dull sword there), encouraged the boy to look in the mirrow and try to remember what he looked and elt like at this moment because we were aware of ho much we wanted to feel like him and how important it was to not lose that feeling or that connection with the past.
I got the 9:34 home feeling incredibly happy and ozed o the ride. Sharon was still up when we got home, Jack long asleep.I learned a little more about their day thatn I did from an earlier phone call. Maigul is going home on Monday. Moving to US will be more difficult than she originally had heard. It may be years before Jack sees her again.
She has been a wonderful presence with him.
Thursday, February 27, 2003
Last night, I met with my men's group. Four of us were there and we helped one another sort through what was going on between our ears. My experience felt felt very sweet. Ineeded to talk through some of things that had been going on for me since the last time I was able to sit ith everyone (about a month ago).
In talking through everything, I realized that my anxiety yesterday had been heightened by meeting with my accountant. He was a symbol of my father who would start any family visit by asking how business was and then investigating as though he were an auditor. I talked about my struggles with work, my being certified in California as a leader by the men's group to which a belong, starting this blog and my thoughts for this in the future, having taken my website commercial, and a few of the joyous experiences I've had recently with Jack, in particular, the first time I was putting him to sleep where he shooed Sharon by telling her, "GO AWAY! DOWNSTAIRS! (meaning she should go downstairs). I felt so happy to be preferred at that moment.
One man recognized and asked about whether he reminded me of having a buddy. I smiled. I'm loving him like I wanted to be loved by my parents. That felt very good.
We ended at approximately 9:00. Two of us continued to talk over stall wallls in the boys room of the church building we meet in about our children (his daughter is a little older) and her best friend who, like Jack, is from Kazakhstan. IThe conversation ended when our need to urinate ended too.
I took the subway to Pen Station, took the Babylon train to my stop, walked home, turned on the tv to watch sports at the end of the 10 o'clock news and a ew minutes later, fell asleep in my chair, as I woke up at 11;45, Sharon was coming down the stairs. She got what she needed and then we both went upstairs and ttalked for a while about her visit to her Chinese doctor, her friend's house where Irene watched the kids allowing Sharon and Maigul to have a lengthy talk translated by the Russian nanny. It was funny to here how Maigul's ticket was delayed getting to her, found in Moscow and then flown from Moscow to Uzbekestan by the pilot. It required that she leave hurriedly (when she got to the states, she had a small bag with her filled primarily with gifts and little else) and drive for four hours to meet her ticket.
Then, Sharon laughed about her two hours of girl talk using the Russian phrase book that they both would use to look up what they wanted to say to one another. Truthfully, I listened very little because I needed to sleep
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
Fortunately, as my day progressed, things started to calm down. The, I received the good fortune of a conversation about someone else in my office that was relevant for me. It calmed me and got me focused. I still have a lot to do, but I don't feel as crazed about it. Sha spent some time with a friend's nanny who speaks Russian and learned from Maigul a bit more about her life and Jack's prior to our adoption. We've been concerned about where we were told his correct birthdate and it appears we were. He's been giggling for a while (I could hear him over the phone) so he will be exhausted soon and probably fall asleep early.
I won't see him tonight or probably tomorrow night.
It has been a rough morning already. It started uneventfully. The alarm rang at 5:15 (early even for me), the coffee pot went off, I went downstairs and got some vitamins, my coffee, went back up and started to read the online New York Post. Just as I was about to head for the shower, Jack awoke. I had a few blissful moments watching him gradually awake in his crib. Sharon was both sleepy and starting not to feel well, so she asked for some morning help.
I changed his diaper, got his morning milk, came up, was about to get in the shower, when I went down to get some more milk and a separate sippy cup of water. Took my shower, changed his crap filled diaper (the kind that has the loose stuff in it, kinda pancaked out in the diaper and on his but WITH EXTRA STINK; the three wipe kind). Shaved. Got him off my office chair after he dumped a bunch of paper clips on the floor. "JACK! Please don't, I said with a whinning voice and encouraged him to come down with me so that I could have a quick breakfast and make coffee for Maigul for when she woke.
Holding him, I ate my chicken burger and then remembered that I had to make out the mortgage payment. I put on Barney & left him in front of the set and ran back upstairs, wrote out the check,put it in my mailbox and walked downstairs with Sharon. It's 6:50 so I started to put on my coat but stayed a minute to encourage Jack to eat his morning concoction of natural stuff before walking out the door for the 7:02.
For 40 minutes, I was able to remain calm, read a newspaper before walking from Penn. I deposited a check in the ATM and arrived in my office with a few minutes before a weekly Wednesday morning meeting. As it ended a few minutes before 9, my accountant arrived a half hour early for ameeting to give him information about our business and personal taxes, I have 7 messages waiting for me and I want to explode!
Tuesday, February 25, 2003
I met my son a year ago. He's two now and such a happy little guy. At thirty-one pounds, he is an active boy with a great smile. Tonight, I came off the train and walked the short distance home and saw one of my favorite scene's ahead of me. The front door was open and the glass door locked. I hoped that they were at the door, him peering down the block looking for me. It was almost there. Instead, I rang the bell so Sha would unlock the glass door and then, she said, "Jack! Daddy's home." He ran to the door excited to see me.
It was very different than the first time we met. He was living in Almaty in the central Asian country of Kazakhstan in what is called a baby house (an orphanage for young children in their country). He was loved at BBH #2 and well-cared for within their capabilities. They don't have access to the same medicine as a child might here. He was a loved boy there, 17 pounds and just about ready to walk. Now he runs everywhere he can.
I came in, dinner was ready and then the fun part of the night. Jack took my hand and said, "Come here. Come here, " and took me to the playroom where he dumped out one game and then another." We played for a minute with one and then another before we started our night time exercise--Hide & Seek. Running the same course again . . . and again . . .and again. Then he got up on the one foot stool in the kitchen and practiced jumping off while I held the stool down with an unnoticed foot.
Sha recorded Jack with Maigul, his visiting caregiver form Kazahstan. Maigul is a pretty woman of about thirty who received a ticket to come to America from another family and is staying with us this week. She doesn't want to be a tourist. She certainly doesn't want to "take advantage." She is enjoying spending time with families and children she cared for and, from what we understand from our Russian phrase book and watching the expression on her face, she is loving it.
So tonight Sharon is video taping Jack sitting with "Maggie" (as Jack refers to her) while I do a 52 year old man's version of a moonwalk behind her and a bunny hopping while everyone laughs. It felt great to hear his giigle and to jump like a bunny with him. I adore him like I wish I had been.
Why did I take so long to get to be a father?
I hear his voice. "Come here." He is using an electric toothbrush and brushing his teeth. So far he only does the bottoms and as she tries to help him do the uppers, he twists and moves back hitting me flush on the nose. At first I think it's broken. I won't check until tomorrow.
They're both lying on the bed, winding down from the day. He'll be asleep soon and then we'll connect and talk about our day.
He asks for milk again and is offered water. It will only be a few more minutes.
What do you do when you hear that your son has called the police for the first time?
Since I wasn't there, I guess I'm supposed to laugh.
He called 911and hung up. They called back and asked Sha whether someone in our house had called.
I am a 52 year old man who lives in a suburb outside of New York City called Long Island. I came to part time fatherhood" a little more than a year ago (I call it "part time fatherhood" because I leave for work at 7:20 when my son has been awake for a little more than 20 minutes and arrive home with about an hour or two before he goes to sleep).
My own father did something similar, except he left before I awoke in the morning and, after having dinner, would fall asleep in his armchair in our livingroom in The Bronx with his mouth open and the television on. I wrestle between my responsibilities to my family. After all, if I don't work, there is no money for us to do the things we want, buy the things we need or parent Jack. My hope in publishing this blog is to re-connect with the experiences that led us to Jack and to support other fathers who will confront some of the same things that I did.
