A Single Point of Light

Four score and seven years ago, speak softly and carry a big stick, ask not what your country can do for you, I am not a crook,  - it seems every US President has a few famous words attributed to them.  In accepting the 1988 Presidential Nomination at the Republican convention, President George HW Bush likened America’s clubs and volunteer organizations to a brilliant diversity spread like stars, like a thousand points of light in a broad and peaceful sky.

I would like to tell you how my life was saved by a single solitary ½ inch point of light.

Not too many years ago, I was working as real estate broker with an office in Rexburg, Idaho, only 30 miles from my house.  Times were extremely difficult for me as the bottom had dropped out of the real estate market.  My home life was unsettled as well as my then wife and I had decided that I should seek other living accommodations than the marital home.  Fortunately, I had a small home in the middle of 3 farms that I had purchase some years earlier and had been using as a rental.  When it went vacant, I moved back in.  My older kids were all living with their mom as was my youngest with my second wife – so I lived alone except for a chocolate lab named Boone.

The real estate market was a complete bust and was my only source of income.  It was so bad that many suggested that I couldn’t sell anything in that market.  That turned out to be untrue as I sold my plasma twice a week so that I could put fuel in my old diesel truck so that I could make it to the office.  Many nights I didn’t feel like I could afford to drive home, so I slept on the office floor.

In an effort to maintain some sense of normalcy, I met my kids one night a week on Taco Tuesday.  I carefully took stock of what money I had remaining from plasma sales and carefully estimated the cost to take my family out for 1.99 tacos.  As each would order, I would keep track in my head of the total and adjust my own order accordingly.  More than once they asked,  “aren’t you eating with us Dad?” or “is that all you are having?’  Yes, many nights I was just ‘not very hungry’ as far as I told them.

My office rent, mortgage, child support, truck payment and utility payments continued to mount and with each passing day and month I grew more depressed and discouraged.  To me, I was a complete disappointment. Many times I considered the merits of taking my own life.  I was in jeopardy of having my electricity shut off and on the nights when I returned to the house, I never knew if the power would be on.  Days before I had a notice on the door that unless I paid my past due bill, the power would be shut off the next day.  

One late, dark and starless night, I was at my lowest point and was considering my suicidal options on the 30 minute drive home.  The night felt very still and ominous and I cried out for some sign from God that everything would be ok and that He would stay my hand.  My house was about a half mile from both the main road and the nearest neighbor, and at the end of a dead end graveled road.  I was certain the house would be cold and dark without power. There is one final turn into my driveway across an irrigation ditch.  I rounded the last bend and was facing my house when I saw it – a single half inch glow piercing the darkness, my doorbell.  It was a 12 volt beacon that might as well been a searchlight. From 50 yards away it told me that I had another night of heat, another night with running water, a night of sleep and a hot shower in the morning.  I felt that if I had been given one more night then perhaps I could do my part to make it one more day, and I did.

Many days have passed between that night and this glorious morning.  My life is immeasurably better.  The tiny doorbell has become symbolic for me as a reminder that even a small light can cut through the darkest night.  Today, I am mindful that each person we encounter may be facing some kind of struggle.  Perhaps a smile, hug or a kind word from us is that single point of light that may just make all the difference to them.  I pray that I, and each of us, can be the light that cuts through the darkness for even one person.

The Other Side of the Door

I felt every bit of the oxygen get sucked out of the room as his mom told me the news that she and her estranged husband had reconciled and that they would again be returning to Texas, and taking my son with them. Having him for the summer allowed her time to fly often to Houston to work on her marriage. Such irony that having time with my son would now cause me to lose him. It was happening at the end of the week, time too short to do anything about it, and far too short of time remaining with him.

Stunned, my heart plucked from my chest, I hung up the phone.  The same wave of sad despair washed over me as it had once before. I could see him playing in the next room. My legs felt weak as I stumbled towards my bedroom door. Once behind it, I felt the stinging tears come. I am usually a little disappointed in myself to cry. Men don't cry, right? Not 'real men', as I sometimes say. I sobbed into my pillow, sometimes loudly, for what seemed too long. I wondered how I could possibly do this again.

I knew that I wanted to be strong for him. I wanted our last week to be full of family, fun, friends and laughter.  I didn't want tears, not from me, not from the family, and certainly not from him.  Sure, there would be the inevitable tears as we said our goodbyes on the last day, but I didn't want my sadness to mar our last week together.  I had to put on a brave face and be the strong dad that he knows.  I decided that was exactly what I would do.

In the shower, I broke down again, for just a minute.  I considered how many people cry in the shower. I have a lot of frustration with myself at such an emotional outburst. 'Suck it up! Be a man!', I told myself.

Once dressed, I checked my face for any signs of crying. Seeing none, I went out to be with him in the living room. I watched him for a few moments, feeling the pure love of a father. It is the same way I watch all my kids. I felt the familiar brimming of tears and tried the 'dad move' to wipe them away as if I were just rubbing my eyes a bit. He saw. His own tears welled up in his eyes and he came to me and crawled onto my lap. We held each other tightly and silently for a moment. 'She told you', he said.

In the few days that have passed since then, there have been no more tears together. There have been no more tears in front of him. No more tears on that side of the door. I am not on his side of the door right now. We have just two days left. Two days.  I hear him open his bedroom door. It is time to wipe my eyes, smile, and join him on the other side of the door.

The Greatest Guy I Never Knew

Fathers Day.  Everyone is posting pictures of themselves with their dads on Facebook.  I realize that I do not have any pictures like that, in fact, the only ones that show us together are a few family or wedding pictures.  We were never together in picture taking occasions.

Like a lot of boys, my dad was my hero.  When I was young, and since, I have never heard of someone who did not like him.  He made many friends during his years in business, and later, in politics as a County Commissioner.  He was well known for his honesty, hard work, and sense of fairness.  He was an all around good guy, from being a handsome young athlete to a well respected community leader.  It seemed that everyone knew him.  Everyone, that is, except his youngest son.

I was the last of 5 kids, with a 5 year gap between my next oldest brother and I.  All of my memories of being with my father centered around work.  He was an extremely hard worker and it was something that he taught all of his children.  If I wanted to spend any time with him as a child, it would be on his Wonder Bread truck.  I remember that all of the grocery store owners were his friends and often told me how lucky I was to be his son.  I believed that to be true and I still do today.  My only other memories of him while I was a child, was when he stopped at the house some afternoons for just a few minutes on his way back from Rexburg.

In my teen years, his bread distributorship had to be closed and he went into a wholesale crafts business, which involved him being on the road a lot.  As he valued hard work, sometimes I would work through the night doing something for his business, hoping to gain his respect and good favor.  It was those times, I did feel appreciated for my efforts.

I don't have a single memory of a campout, fishing alone together, a ballgame, throwing the football around, playing catch or any regular things a dad might do with a son.  He was a provider to our family and also a public servant and he spent many hours doing both to the best of his ability.  I never really fit into those plans.

Toward the end of his life, he spent some months putting together his journal containing many experiences of his life.  I'm not sure if he felt his time coming or if it was just coincidence that he finished his writing just before his passing.  As part of his written legacy, he wrote of each of his children, in order.

My oldest sister, Sherry, was his princess and the apple of his eye.  He expounded with well deserved praise for her and wrote page after page of her virtues.  Every word of it was true, as she is certainly a rose among the thorns of 4 boys to come after her.

My next two brothers, Scott and Steve, where born soon after Sherry and my dad loved them all fiercely.  He was exceptionally proud of Scott as a businessman, with a keen mind, and was proud of his later career as a fireman and EMT, becoming EMS Chief for the City of Idaho Falls.  Of Steve, he observed that he was an excellent father, extremely affable, tender, and an outdoorsman.  They loved spending time together when they could.

My brother Mike came 5 years after Steve and was a well respected area athlete in his own right.  Dad was very proud of Mike's athletic success and he would attend his games as often as he could.  I often remember him beaming from the stands.  I think he was even more proud that Mike was a man of God, would do anything for anybody, and was a devoted family man as well.

Of each of my siblings, he wrote long and eloquently.  Every word that he wrote was from his heart and every word was true.  My sister and brothers are incredible people and I feel fortunate to be part of their family.  I remember reading my dad's journal and his thoughts about each of his kids, in order. and seeing the abundance of love that he had for each of them.  When he got to my name, he added a few paragraphs about my work and my kids. I turned the page to read the rest - blank.

I had always just thought of my dad as 'busy'.  He was busy with his business, his church positions and with his work for Bonneville County.  As a young adult, I realized that he was not proud of his youngest son, and in many ways, I also felt he had no reason for pride in me.  He did love my kids very much, as he did all of his grandchildren.  I can't say that I ever felt that he loved me.  It wasn't until my teen years and especially later as a young father, did I come to understand that I was a disappointment to him.  It still hurts me deeply to feel that, even as I write those words, after more than a half century on this earth.

I don't know that if we had the opportunity to have spend any real time together that he could have learned who I was inside.  I know that my mother would likely disagree with me, as what father doesn't love all his children.  I think maybe he was just over it with his kids and was on to his grandkids for his golden years.  He was exceptionally devoted to them all and in many ways, he may have felt that he had a chance to make up for the lost time that he missed with his own children.

To be very clear, I loved my dad very much.  I respected him as a provider, as husband to my mother, and as someone who always kept his word.  I often wonder what I might have done that shaped his feelings for me, and what I could have done differently.  What was it about me that was not worthy of his love?  I certainly have been able to make a long list of potential reasons in the years since.  I am not angry with him nor do I blame him in any way for my problems or shortcomings.  He always did the best he could with what he had.

As a father myself, my experience with my dad has shaped me.  I am far from a perfect dad and my oldest kids also endured living with a workaholic father and a later divorce.  As I wised up some, I have taken more time to be with James, my youngest.  I believe the older kids have been supportive of that and recognize some changes in their dad.  I do not think that they are jealous of the extra time he has received.

Above all, I hope my kids know that I love them and that I am so proud to be their dad.  Every dad hopes their children achieve more and be better people than their father.  Each of my kids has surpassed that.  To my own dad, I love you, I honor you this day and always.  Thank you for the lessons that you taught and for always loving my mother.  I hope that we have a chance someday to be friends.  I would love to know you and I hope that my earthly journey can help make me a son in whom you can be well pleased.

Greener Grass

It has been a busy spring and early summer around the Long house.  We have hosted several parties and family get-togethers so I have been rather busy mowing, trimming, weeding and planting in the front yard, along with endlessly dragging the hose around and setting the sprinklers.  I have dug up endless tree roots, filled low spots, cut down high spots, strongly encouraged the dog to do his 'business' elsewhere, and in general have babied my front yard.  The hammock in the picture is mostly for show, and outside of one glorious occasion, it hasn't been used.  This is the part of my yard that you see if you come visiting, or are lost and end up at the end of my dead end road.  It is a decent first impression, right?

In contrast, this is my back yard.  This is the part that you don't see because it is behind the fence.  In recent years, I have run new water and electrical lines through it, removed trees, and largely ignored it.  To be honest, it is something that I always planned to 'get around to'.  It has one of the finest outdoor basketball courts in all the land, with 12,000 watts of light for those intense night games.  The lights are so bright, I am sure you can see them from space.  There is a fantastic playground too, and a foundation for a future cabana, complete with bathroom and kitchen.  This could be the crown jewel of my property, instead I keep the gate shut when someone comes over and I hope they won't see it from the window inside the house.  It is embarrassing.

In recent months, a close friend told me, "The grass is greener where you water it'.  How true, not only in my own yard, but also in my life.  It has been true in my marriage(s), with my kids, my career, and with my friends.  Any regular attention, like water, caused those things to flourish, while neglect allows the same things to wither and die.  Often, I have been concerned with the things you can see in front of the fence, when the 'crown jewel' is hidden and neglected.  It has been one of my hard lessons and one that I am intent on not repeating.

How true this is of any of our relationships with others, particularly a marriage or significant relationship.  Too often we admire someone else's crown jewel while neglecting our own, and we lose the rich rewards that are already within our grasp.  The grass MAY be greener on the other side of the fence, because someone is taking care of it.  Look behind your own fence, chances are you have an opportunity to green things up at home.

PS      I wanted to say 'drag your hose around at home, but it seemed unseemly.
PSS.  Sorry mom.  I know it was going well until that 'drag your hose' thing

If You Can't Say Somethin' Nice

Some of the biggest lessons in my life have come from being a completely oblivious idiot, or, more likely, not fully considering the consequences of my actions. Recently, I made a huge mistake, and one that was not altogether unlike a mistake that I had made years earlier. I hope THIS time I have fully learned my lesson.

In the last month or so, I had the good fortune of making a new friend.  She was driven, successful with a business that she had created, attractive and a wonderful mother and person.  In the few conversations that I had with her, I really came to admire who she was.  Although in the throes of a divorce, she had an amazingly positive attitude, a quick wit, and an endearing demeanor.  The few times that we spoke, she was always very clear that, although divorcing, she was a married woman and would do nothing to call her fidelity into question.  I respected that immensely.

Here is where the plot thickens. Another very close friend was aware that I had become friends with the woman.  She had heard some very derogatory things about my new friend from a different male friend of hers.  Although she didn't know my new friend personally, she wanted me to know what she had heard.  I am convinced that her only concern was looking out for my best interest and that she had intended no malice.

Enter Daren, to truly make the situation worse.  Suffice it to say that I didn't believe what I heard. Having divorced twice, I thought my new friend 'deserved' to know what some people had been saying about her.  I thought it was worthy information to have so that she could be prepared for any eventuality in the divorce.  When we next spoke, I told her that I had to tell her something the next time I saw her.  MISTAKE.  You don't prep someone for bad news, then let them brood about it until some future date.  She was adamant that I tell her on the spot through Facebook messaging.  Although, I was by then feeling very uneasy, I agreed, feeling like I was doing the 'right thing' by her.  I wasn't.

She was understandably upset and likewise upset with me that I was involved in even telling her.  The next day she went right to the source of the original poison and questioned him about it.  He told my other friend, who told me what was said, and that I had revealed something told to me in confidence - which I had.  My friend, whose only interest was in making sure that I didn't make a mistake, felt thrown under the bus.  In a way, she was right.  Because she shared what she heard with me, she ended up looking like a gossip and I put everything in place to make it appear just that way.  I am so sorry to have violated her trust and confidence in me.  It was reprehensible and I have apologized profusely.  She deserved better of me.

In the end, my new friend was justifiably disappointed in me as a man, and that I would be part of such a painful experience.  I had felt like we were in the beginning stages of a great friendship, but I ruined that by not more carefully considering the far reaching effects of my words.  In parting, she suggested that I take an inward look at myself and discover what would make not be the kind of man that she had believed me to be.  Although I asked her forgiveness and she was gracious enough to grant it, the growing friendship was shattered.  She deserved better of me as well.

I have wrestled mightily with that over the last several weeks.  It brought me back to that old Bambi movie where the Thumper character says, 'If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say nothin' at all". There was no good that could have come out of what I said.  My flawed belief that she deserved to know, only ended up being a painful experience to her, my other friend and me personally.  She didn't deserve to know, not from me anyway.  She deserved my compassion in keeping it to myself.  She deserved my empathy, having been in her shoes, and she deserved my positive words of encouragement.  Similarly, my other friend deserved to know that her trust in me was justified and that I recognized her reasons for sharing what she had been told.  Instead, I sang like a canary.  I had nothing to gain from telling, instead I took that situation and made it as negative as possible under the guise of doing the right thing.  It couldn't have been further from the right thing.

I couldn't be more disappointed in myself for what I did.  Soon after, I tried a 72 hour experiment of only saying positive and affirmative words to people.  It was amazing and seemed to lift those with whom I came in contact.  Even more, it made me feel better about myself and my choices.  Words have power, to build or destroy, for ourselves and others.  I hope to always choose mine with more thought. Again, my profound apologies to those involved.  I can only forgive myself as I make correct choices in the future.  I hope you can all do the same.

Are You Absolutely Positive?

Those who know me well are aware that I have been on some type of  'journey' in the past few years. I suppose I have been seeking some kind of enlightenment, some belief in who I am as a man, some 'oneness' with the universe and all of that nonsense.  Mostly, I want to be comfortable with the guy I see in the mirror every morning.

One of the things I knew I had to conquer was pride.  Not the kind of pride a parent has for a child or that one might feel for his country or sports team, but foolish pride.  This kind of pride robs you of peace and opportunities for joy.  Most of the major mistakes that I have made in my life have been as a result of pride and wrongly seeking the approval of others when I wanted to feel valued or that I mattered.

I decided to take an alternative route and become very vulnerable and devoid of pride.  I exposed dark times in my life publicly which included self doubt, past thoughts of suicide, relationship difficulty and loss.  While many people have told me that they have identified with my struggles and left encouraged, an equal number accuse me of exposing 'too much', living my life in public and even suggest that it is all just attention seeking.  Both opinions have merit and have caused me many sleepless nights of contemplation.

I never wanted to be the guy that drags his own rain cloud around with him so I challenged myself to a 72 hour test of being only positive.  I would only post positive things, make positive comments to others and maintain positive thoughts at all times.  I thought that it would be easy - it wasn't.  Today is the end of the 72 hours and it was 3 days of struggle between both forces.

No sooner did I start my challenge when someone, for whom I care deeply, hurt me in an immeasurable way.  I found it difficult to keep positive thoughts through the experience and the pain of it all persists.

It reminded me of the Native American parable about the wise grandfather wagering with his grandson about the potential winner of an upcoming fight between two wolves.  It seems the grandfather declared that he knew that the winner of the fight would be the white wolf rather than the black.  When his prediction proved true, the grandson questioned the old man about how he knew with such certainty which wolf would be victorious.  The wise grandfather explained that he had cared for the wolves in the days prior to the fight, and he knew that the victor would be 'the one you feed'.

I have had my share of debilitating experiences and have been knocked off my foundation more than once.  At the same time, there exists in my life sources of infinite joy.  I, and each of us, have the daily opportunity to choose the well from which we will fill our buckets.  Reasons to be sad and depressed are abundant but so are reasons to be happy, fulfilled and joyful.

I know I talk a big game and I am well aware that I will still have my moments of doubt and darkness, but for today, I choose light.  Positivity is a habit that can be developed like any other.  We should separate ourselves from the negative and embrace all the good that we have all around us.  I want to be a positive force in the world and to those with whom I come in contact.

I remain a work in progress...

The Hanging Tree

My Hanging Tree

This is copied and pasted from a Facebook post some months ago. The REAL story came after..

This is my hanging tree. In a way, this will be one of my most revealing posts ever. For years I have struggled with thoughts of taking my own life, during any number of moments of quiet desperation. This is where I had plans to do it, I even had the noose tied for a long time. So many times did I hear about it being the 'cowards way out'. For me, it was more being afraid to actually do it, not for the sweet relief of death, but for the knowledge of the far reaching effects on my family, and the shame and sadness it might bring them. I also considered who might find me and what that image might cause. Its shameful really, to never quite put it out of my mind. It makes me feel weak of mind that I think of it with some regularity. I often look for one good reason to go on another day, usually it comes from a kind word from a friend or a family member. Please don't underestimate how you might affect people that you see on a daily basis. You never know if you might be their reason for hanging on one more day. Currently, my life is improving because of special friends and family and improving business situations. I suspect some of you have had similar thoughts and may not have discussed it with anyone. Please, find someone to talk to. Help is free. Call a friend, call your mom, your spouse or significant other, call me. People care about you, as I am learning, they do about me too...

That was it. For some reason, I felt like someone needed to hear it at the moment I wrote it.  I've never felt necessarily like I was useful in some big God/Karma/Universe/The Secret way but I just rolled with the feeling. The response after posting was amazing, in an overwhelmingly positive way, yet not without its negatives.

First of all, some in my family were concerned that I was then contemplating re-tying the noose - I wasn't.  A girl that I was dating and I decided to see other people, she thought perhaps she was the reason - she wasn't.  I wasn't really sure WHY I posted it at that exact time until later.

If you are my Facebook friend, and you are interested, go check out my original March 11, 2014 post and all the comments to follow.  Pretty diverse.  My own daughter admitted having similar feelings stemming from some bullying at Rigby High School before she transfer, using my address, to Bonneville.

A large number of the public comments came from well meaning friends, whom I love dearly, who wanted to cut the tree down.  I actually love that old tree and the creepy chain hanging from it.  Having it gone would not be a real deterrent if I was still having such thought.  Now when I see the tree, I feel some kind of kinship with it, knowing we are currently past that point.  It doesn't 'beckon' me.

The fascinating part for me came through private messages that I received after posting.  In deference to those people who shared their private thoughts and experiences with me, I wont go into much detail here.  What I am comfortable saying is that no less that three people said that they had read that post and decided NOT to go ahead with their own suicide plans.  One said that if 'someone like me' had such thoughts, then she was not alone in hers and she could also overcome them.    Three seems like a high number of my own friends to be contemplating suicide but that's what it was.  I wonder how many people have/had similar thoughts and didn't contact me.

My mom told me that I did myself a 'real disservice' but being so open about it on Facebook.  She felt, as many do, that I post too many private thoughts that should be kept personal.  She feared that my friends, and potential clients, would see me as being weak and unstable.  Perhaps she is correct with regard to a few on my friends list but I believe the overwhelming majority were supportive and understanding.  If even one person, decided to go on trying even one more day because of what they read, I'll accept any fallout that came with it.

Again, thanks for everyone's kind words and concerns. I won't pretend that suicide is no longer a thought that I entertain.  I think most people, if they were honest, would admit to having such thoughts at some point in their life.  I can say that each day, I find more and more reasons to think I have a wonderful life.