Tag Archives: love

Build a Bridge

Most days you can find me at the local Starbucks, working on my laptop, sipping some iced bean juice, and listening to 90’s Grunge rock (Foo Fighters currently). 

When I get stumped, I tend to look over the room and simply people watch in the least creepy way as possible.

Frequently sitting across from me is a Middle Eastern woman, I would guess in her 50’s, also plugging away at work. She looks very unapproachable, so I’ve never spoken to her. We just give each other a nod to show we recognize each other and then it’s back to work.

Today, there was a ruckus with an unhappy customer that caused heads to turn. You know the type, someone unhappy with their drink so they feel the need to berate those working hard. Thankfully, another customer shamed her for acting like a spoiled brat.

The woman across the table and I just looked at one another and shook our heads. We had a quick exchange about the absurdity of some people. After seeing this woman for a couple years, this was the most we had spoken.

Once I finished the article I was writing, I sat back and let out a deep breath and cracked my knuckles. She happened to be doing the same thing at the same time. We both had a laugh. She sparked a conversation, asking what I did for a living.

I would find out that she’s originally from Iraq. She’s been here for 15 years, earned her citizenship, got her teaching degree, and comes to Starbucks to grade papers because her kids never leave her alone at home. She explained how much she loves this country, but wishes people were nicer, not to just her, but everyone in general.

Her advice to many Americans was to stop complaining so much, because we really have no idea how great we have it. I love meeting people of different cultures, backgrounds, faith, countries, etc. and the opportunity to learn through those that are different than me.

I noticed she was wearing an Allah protection pendant. She said she was a devout Muslim and regularly attends the Mosque in Perrysburg. I explained that I always wanted to attend a service as I have with other religions but felt I wouldn’t be accepted. She laughed and reassured me that they accept all walks of life, especially those that want to learn more about a religion that is regularly bashed and ridiculed.

The conversation ended abruptly when her brother was video calling her from Iraq. Her face lit up like a lightbulb. I went back to finishing up so I could head home.

As I was putting away my laptop, I noticed she is crying tears of joy. I don’t have to speak her language to know how happy she was to be hearing from him.

This entire exchange made my day. It also made me think deeply about the world we live in. How can people wish death upon a group of people for the way they pray or because extremists use their faith as a reason to justify mass murder?? This woman and her husband fled their home for a better life. They’ve been through hell to get to a point of acceptance, even though many Americans still wish death upon them and their families.

I found myself getting angry and ashamed of the people of this country that think their white privileged lives are more important than those of different colors and ethnicities.

This woman and I are more alike than we are different, even though we are from opposite sides of the world. We both have kids, a sibling we miss, parents, careers, loved ones, daily struggles, etc. We don’t have to share the same faith to get along, to be friends, to share a meal or a coffee.

We are all far more interesting than the political party we follow or the God we pray or don’t pray to. I would much rather hear your story and what makes you smile and what makes you cry and what makes you who you are. Show me your personality.

When the end goal is peace, there are no walls, only bridges.

Build a bridge.

Lunar Love

Not ready for launch

Unprepared for flight

Uncomfortable elsewhere

Thrusters on

The pressure intense

Orbiting alone in silent despair

Looking for my lunar love

To travel time and space

An intergalactic love affair

Fiery passionate burning-hot comet

Circling the galaxy

Igniting the sky and air

Wandering the cosmos

Solo and broken

Waving you in with a bright signal flare

Searching for my lunar love

Exploring planets

Oxygen the only care

Hidden by black holes

And galaxies alike

Consumed by prayer

Cold and desolate

Shattered and afraid

In need of repair

Can’t be a star and the sun all at once

Be warmed by my existence

Or watch me shine from afar

Wherefore is Mine Own Pen Hath Lost…

Do any of my fellow writers have a pen or pencil that you just absolutely adore? It doesn’t have to be fancy or expensive. Personally, I never leave home without my Zebra F-701. It’s an all steel-body pen with a notched grip and metal ink cartridges. For a few extra dollars you can swap out the standard cartridge and replace it with a Fisher Space Pen refill. You know the one; it writes upside down, under water, below zero, or even in extreme heat. I like it for its balance, durability, and precision.

I read a report years ago that said one of the dirtiest items you’ll come into contact with, is a restaurant server’s pen or any publicly used writing device for that matter. Just think of where the hands that touched that….blech. I can’t even finish that thought. So gross.

Today, I was visiting my daughter’s school for the annual Dads Day. At some point, I lost my beloved writing tool. I didn’t even notice it was gone right away, but it didn’t take long to realize it, since I’m constantly jotting down ideas and thoughts. I went into a slight panic, which really wasn’t necessary considering there is an Office Max about 300 yards from my current position. For 7 bucks, I can replace it. Except, I didn’t want to just replace it. I wanted my note taker back.

I don’t see this as just another pen. We’ve been through a lot together and it’s the only thing between the paper and my thoughts. If it had a brain and could comprehend what it wrote, it would know more about me than any person on this planet. It has seen my highest highs and lowest lows, never judging or laughing. It just does exactly what it’s suppose to do; give me a voice and an outlet for my happiness, depression, anger, and solitude. This isn’t just a pen, it’s a weapon and an instrument and a magical wand that can take you places you’ve only ever dreamt of, like Cleveland.

So, you can picture my dilemma. I had already left the school and had just sat down at a coffee shop to do some work. It wasn’t clipped to my shirt, nor was it in my back pocket. I even searched the car, but came up with nothing. I went back to my coffee and pulled out one of my other 12 inferior pens. These things don’t know me at all. They are simply here for emergency purposes or if someone needs to borrow one because they are ill-prepared.

I actually hated the thought that someone would find my pen and not know what they had and they certainly wouldn’t appreciate its value. It would likely end up in some little kid’s bookbag or into one of those pencil cases with all the broken crayons and markers that leak everywhere. Oh, the humanity! My poor pen is out there in the world somewhere, wondering why I had abandoned it. For shame. For shame.

I decide I can’t just let this go. I call up to the school and I explain that it is of great urgency that I speak with my daughter immediately. I quickly explain my awful situation. The secretary said she completely understands the importance and transfers me posthaste. Once my little one is on the line, I tell her of my urgent matter. She giggles on the other end of the phone call, ignoring my strife. She says “Dad, calm down. I found your pen and I put it in your tool bag (We were working on a project in which I had to bring in some tools). I was going to bring it home with me, but I didn’t want you spazzing out, like you are clearly doing anyways.” I want to be mad at her for being such a smartass, but she saved my pen from ending up in a (*Gasp*) junk drawer. She will be rewarded later this evening.

I spring from my chair in the café and like a very slow-moving lightning bolt with asthma, I run to the parking lot, keys in one hand, and my inhaler in the other. I click the button to unlock the car and tear open the passenger door. There on the crumb filled car seat, is my small black bag, with an old Cincinnati Reds keychain in place of the zipper’s pull tab. I rip open the bag with reckless abandon and quickly start rummaging through the contents. There it is, shining from the bottom of the canvas bin. It was glowing brightly as if to say “Hello there!”. My dread quickly fades and turns to great jubilation.

Once I’m back inside, I take my seat and reach for my hand sanitizer with aloe and gently bathe my little inscriber of any possible horridness that might emanate in a 3rd grade classroom, like Coronavirus or Cooties.

Everything is right again. We’re reunited and ready to begin our next adventure!

P.S. Wash your damn hands!

Living a Nightmare

When I talk to my friends that don’t have kids, I try to avoid the phrase “you can’t understand because you’re not a parent”, or some variation of it. It sets a negative connotation and implies that they are incapable of having deep feelings about someone or something they love. However, every parent knows; the biological connection you have to your children is like no other emotion or feeling you’ve ever had. It’s a bond that is difficult to put into words. It’s kind of like being overwhelmed by ocean waves that keep pushing you under the surface. Except instead of it being water that’s trying to drown you, it’s a sensation of relentless love and responsibility. Nothing in life is more important than the well-being of your child. Whether it be mental or physical, their comfort and security is a matter of the utmost importance. Simply put, there is nothing you wouldn’t do for them.

On Superbowl Sunday, we were busy getting ready for a small party of friends and family to come over and watch the game. Our little girls were outside playing on our quiet and traffic free dead-end street, one on her bike and the other on a scooter. We were keeping an eye on them and had already given them a 5-minute warning before they had to come inside and get cleaned up.

Mom was in the kitchen and I was busy searching for the constantly missing remote control. As I passed by the front door, I noticed the scooter was flipped upside down, but I didn’t think anything of it. The girls were out of my line of sight. Next, I heard faint screaming and our 16-year-old telling us that the kids were yelling. My wife came around the corner and went out the front door to inspect. I heard her yell my name in a state of panic. I looked up through the front window of the house to see Maddie lying on the ground motionless. I made a dash to the door, expecting my wife to tell me she had skinned her leg or maybe broken a bone. She started to scream for me to call 911 because she was unresponsive.

I sprinted across the yard to the street, attempting to dial 911, and assess the situation. When I got to Maddie’s side, her eyes were rolled into the back of her head and she wasn’t waking up. Sarah continued to call out her name and try to get a response. At this point, I am absolutely frantic. I could hear my own heart beating. It’s hard to keep your composure and give details to an emergency dispatcher while seeing your first-born child lying lifelessly on the concrete.

Maddie finally opened her eyes and started to slowly come around. She looked very confused and disoriented. It was a momentary sigh of relief, as we still weren’t out the woods yet. She was complaining that her spine hurt. I laid on my stomach and took Maddie’s hand while Sarah stood over her and held her head straight until paramedics got there. It felt like an eternity, even though they were there within a few minutes. I asked Mo to squeeze my finger, which she firmly did, and then refused to let go. She was also able to wiggle her toes and feet. All great signs so far. Thankfully, she was wearing her helmet, so there did not appear to be any trauma to the head.

The paramedics arrived and quickly went into action. In addition to them, there were 3 cop cars and a second fire unit. It probably looked like a bit of overkill from the neighbor’s point of view, but it made me feel better that we had the entire emergency response team in Lambertville right in front of our house.

Maddie was put into a neck brace and thoroughly looked over. They loaded her into the ambulance to get her out of the cold and finish checking her out. Thankfully, one of the paramedics let me climb in with her to help keep her calm and relaxed. I told her I would never leave her side, no matter what.

After a few minutes of observation and passing all of their tests, they concluded that she likely just had the wind knocked out of her and her body went into a ‘reset’ mode. Her blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen levels were all right where they should be, as well as her lungs sounding perfect. They examined her back and couldn’t find any contusions or anything out of place. Thank God!

I would like to take a moment to give huge props and a thank you to the amazing 911 dispatcher for his composure and steadfast support. These folks do not get enough credit for the job they do. Considering the majority of people they talk to on a daily basis, are ones that are experiencing terrible and even life threatening problems. Your invaluable work has not gone unnoticed.

To the first responders; thank you for your quick actions and for keeping our Maddie-Mo comfortable and safe. Your reassurance and knowledge were so very helpful in putting all of our minds at ease and allowing us to start breathing again.

Later in the evening as I was reflecting on the day, I couldn’t help but be extremely thankful for the family I have been blessed with. Everyone did their part to make sure Maddie was tended to properly. Laura screaming for help, Aislynn bringing Mo a blanket, Ashley making calls to other family members and then taking care of Laura, and my wife for remaining composed and holding our little one’s head from moving around. Everyone made me very proud that day.

We kept Maddie home the next day and let her get some extra rest. She is doing well and you wouldn’t even know there was a problem. This all could’ve been so much worse; had she not been wearing her helmet. I know kids don’t like to wear them, but please don’t let them do these sorts of activities without one. It could easily be the difference between life and death or paralysis.

Treasure(d)

Give it to me

Give it to me

Don’t hold back

I need it to live

That’s a fact

________________________

Give it to me

Give it to me

Don’t be mean

I need it to survive

I have to redeem

_______________________

Give it to me

Give it to me

Why would you refuse

You have so much

And nothing to lose

________________________

Give it to me

Give it to me

I’m empty and weak

You have it all

A future not bleak

________________________

I just want you to tell me

You did a great job

You look great

Not just a slob

And not someone I hate

________________________

I just want you to tell me

Thank you for all that you do

I know it’s hard

But you have me too

________________________

I just want you to tell me

You’re a treasure

A pot of gold

It’s only you

That I want to hold

Spanking is Abuse

It’s a highly debated topic. To spank or not spank your children. There have been thousands of studies done for over 50 years on the effectiveness of spanking. All of them have concluded that it does little to teach any sort of lesson. In fact, it has quite the opposite effect. Children that have been spanked have much higher levels of aggression and break rules more often than those that aren’t spanked. Children can’t tell the difference between being spanked or being beaten. To them, it’s the same thing. They do not remember the reason for the corporal punishment, just that if they mess up, they are hit. Kids are associating pain with failure. They are learning fear, not trust. They will bottle their emotions and hide things from their parents because they are scared to come forward. They fear being physically hurt because of a poor choice or a mistake.

And yet, despite the overwhelming amount of evidence that explains this as plain as day, parents still mock the research and refuse to believe it. Even though there are no studies (at least nothing I could find) that found spanking to be a positive form or punishment. They often cite that “they were spanked and turned out fine”. I can’t help but laugh at this response. As if someone’s own opinion of themselves should take a higher precedence over half a century of research.

What is it about this research that the pro spankers find so implausible? Why is it refuted without so much as a thought? I think part of the reason they defend it, is because they know they’re wrong. They don’t want to admit how it makes them feel great shame. It’s not a hard concept to understand. When you deal with a problem with anger and aggression, you are also teaching this same behavior. Just because you think you turned out ok, doesn’t mean that every kid had the same outcome. You have to think outside of your own personal experiences and understand that this isn’t just about you and how you turned out.

I have not run my own research study by any means, but I have had a few people tell me of their stories. One of them being my wife, who was spanked on a regular basis, often with fly swatters or wooden spoons. One particular time she was punished with a wooden spoon for forgetting her socks at a neighbor’s house. In another instance the person was struck with a switch off of a tree, that she had to pick out herself. No matter how you spin it, this is abuse. The pernicious psychological impact it can have is far greater than the lesson you think you are teaching.

In my opinion, it’s a ridiculous practice that has a high chance of causing problems in your children later in life. I, personally, would feel great shame if I found out that my spanking my kids caused them any sort of distress in their adult life. Whether it be trust and anger issues, or an inability to make friends. We don’t spank or hit anyone else in our lives, so why would you do that to a developing child?

What works for us, is getting down to their level. Talking to them face to face. Explaining how what they did was wrong and then dish out a punishment. Ask them what they could have done differently. Direct them towards making better decisions the next time. We’re supposed to be teaching them how to deal with problems.

When you validate your child’s feelings and name their shame, bringing it to the surface, you instill trust and comfort. You let them know they are human and that it’s ok to make mistakes. That doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to be disciplined. Remember, kids have a hard time expressing themselves. Hell, so do a lot of adults. They get far more irritable when they are hungry or tired. How would spanking a child that is tired, benefit them or you? In the end, they are going to internalize their spanking and then correlate this with whatever emotion they were feeling at the time.

Before we met, my wife admitted that there were a few times that she had spanked her girls. She didn’t know any better because this is how she was raised. She felt awful each time and vowed to not discipline her kids in this manner ever again. She wanted her kids to always trust her, not fear her.

In conclusion, children respond far better to positive reinforcement than they do negative. I’m not saying you reward bad behavior. However, show them how to handle a problem by being a positive force in their life. This doesn’t mean you are raising soft kids. It means that you are teaching them patience and understanding by showing them respect. Afterall, this world is a cruel place. A little more love will go a long way.

With gratitude,

Ryan

As always, I welcome discussion and opinions.

For more information: https://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/132/5/e1118

(un)Withered

What’s good for the goose

Isn’t always good for the gander

Get off your high horse

Quit with the slander

Never pander

Or philander

This would be easy

If I just couldn’t stand her

I’m down with the chase

It’s at her pace

In my face

Just gotta understand

She’s in a different place

Needs her space

Just wish it didn’t feel like

A marathon race

Pour out my tears

Face my fears

Fake smile to the ears

Steer this ship

Anywhere but here

I want happiness

Not anxious

Ambitious

And mysterious

Less delirious

And egregious

To feel like a winner

Not a sinner

No more bitter

Home for dinner

Not my first rodeo

I’m no beginner

Time for a rebirth

No more back and forth

Find where I belong

Shed this girth

Value my worth

Salt of the earth

It’s a new day

Sounds cliché

To find my way

Complete disarray

Be that as it may

The chips will fall

Wherever they lay

Care(free)

Strolling through the park

Thinking of you

Falling in love

Feeling less blue

What more can I say

Blessed with a perfect yesterday

__________________________________________

Driving the back roads

Your hand in mine

A cool breeze

Smells of sweet pine

Nothing stands in our way

Thankful for a perfect yesterday

___________________________________________

Toes buried in summer sand

Endlessly carefree

Sun beats down upon our necks

No place I’d rather be

Waves crash and then they sway

Grateful for you everyday

(a)Part

You couldn’t have known
It would end up like this
It seemed so perfect
Full of love and bliss

You had no idea
It would turn out so bad
You were once so happy
Now you’re just mad

You tried so hard
To be a supportive wife
But you were left with someone
Living a separate life

You blame yourself
For not doing more
But the problem was me
Rotten to the core

You had no choice
It had to be made
Please tell my girls
Not to be afraid

You have led this family
For so very long
I don’t blame you
You’ve done nothing wrong

You have to do this
You know it in your heart
It’s time you had
A fresh new start

You were an amazing wife
Someone I could really trust
I will love you forever
Until death parts us