Jason's Untimely Thoughts

I’ve long had an aversion to cooking.  Basically, I’m completely content having a sandwich or a bowl of cereal for almost any meal.  When that doesn’t work, restaurants will.

With the onslaught of kindness since July, we had meal upon meal delivered to us, which fed my aversion well.  Although that stopped a couple of months ago, I’d still avoided the stove and the oven nicely (microwave doesn’t count).  Not even a frozen pizza in the oven by my hand.

Tuesday is Adelaide’s dance night.  Dance is at 6:15, we try to start the bedtime routine at 7:30, I normally get home from work about 5:15, so Tuesday is a mad rush day, normally resulting in a hurried stop at a restaurant on the way to dance.

This week I asked the kids what they wanted for dinner.  Adelaide said a turkey sandwich, which was very easily done.  Jack said “Cheese grill”.  Huh?  Adelaide informed me that meant a grilled cheese sandwich and “Oh, but you don’t know how to make that.”  So, for the first time in literally months, probably years, I turned on the burner and “cooked” a meal.  It’s an extremely trivial thing, but one that had much symbolism and meaning to me.  I’m not sure what the meaning was, but it was awfully hard to turn that dial.

Dinner Club is also this week, which also has much meaning to me.  Our group of seven couples was originally started by good friends of ours that have since moved.  We rotate houses and themes, trying to gather monthly but really fairly sporadically.  When the group first started, Jack was either nearly born or a newborn, so we missed the first many many times.  By the time we finally attended, our friends had moved to Texas, the other couple we knew had moved to Washington, and we sat down at a table full of people that we didn’t know and that weren’t quite sure how we came to be in their group.

Overtime, I’ve come to think of each person in that group as great friends.  Great friends.  We had them to our house for regularly scheduled dinner club almost immediately after Sarah’s surgery/diagnosis in May 2006, which was a welcome home, a welcome back to normal, and a welcome sign that things were going to be OK for us.  In ways the group could never have known.

We depended on that group for medical advice and were fortunate beyond all measures that we’d joined them for that reason alone.  Everyone had kids, so parenting advice.  Different circles, so just a great way to go out and be adults when the occasion allowed.  It is a happy gathering of happily married people.  We’d sometimes make a point (most times with direction from a specific clubber) to sit away from spouses…. would almost always make a point to sit boy-girl-boy-girl (again, most times with direction from a specific clubber).

Various of the group would have larger gatherings, where kids and non-dinner club people were also allowed.  One of the only specific things Adelaide remembers about this past July is that she missed two of her favorite July 4th events because we were in New Orleans… the annual Stewart Park parade and going to a couple’s family farm for revelry and fireworks.

It’s a rare group that Sarah & I only knew together.  No one was “her friend” or “my friend” first, they were simply our friends.  And they’re all still our friends, but I feel out of place any more.  So, at least for now, Friday night will be my last dinner club.  I hope to still be invited to the occasional larger gatherings.  And I hope I can attend those, where the reminders of my lack of coupledom are less obvious yet can still be around the new group of our old friends.

I’d tried to spread the word that Hold That Hug photos would be available only until January 31.  As I knew there were a few people that still intended to order, I left up past that until those orders were placed.

Those orders came in last week, though, so the photos are no longer available.  If you’re reading this and would still like to order, please let me know and we can work something out.

I’m sending the final contribution of $308.59 to POYi today.  By my quick calculations, that brings the total raised to $4,085.86 from 109 orders.

Thanks again to the photographers who donated their services and all who helped make the event happen.

Hold That Hug Crew

Hold That Hug Photographers

I finalized the order for Sarah’s memorial stone last week, payment included, so that is officially in the works now.  It’ll likely be another 3-4 months before delivery.

Below is the working drawing.  The only change from what I’d posted previously is going away from a bronze vase on top.  I was simply trying to avoid providing temptation for troublemakers.

SEMB Memorial Stone

I’d ordered the bronze suns and gerber daisies while I was in San Antonio for the Alamo Bowl, those arrived last week as well.  (Bad) pictures below.

First, a reminder of the substance — A charity concert to benefit Rocky Mountain Cancer Centers Foundation.  Held Friday, June 5, 2009, at The Soiled Dove in Denver, Colorado.

We’re trying to finalize hotel details, but need a decent guess on the number of people/rooms needed.  If you know you’re traveling and know how many nights you’ll be staying, I’d appreciate a quick email so we can finalize those details as best as possible.  Tentative plans include some variety of shuttle service between the hotel and the venue.

The event will feature live music from local Denver musicians… An all star group of locals will open the show.  The Hazel Miller Band will be the feature act.  Both bands plan on performing Lance’s song, Everything Changes.

We’ll have a photo contest going on via slideshow, themed Everything Changes.  Winners will receive prizes to be announced.  Entries can be emailed to everythingchanges@becking.com.  Unless specified, low res versions of these entries will be available for download purchase after the show.

We’ll have lots of items available via silent auction.  These items will likely be available online first, so all are welcome to participate.

We’ll have a potter throwing some stuff during the night.  Selected pieces of her work will also be available during the show, proceeds again benefitting the RMCCF.

In addition to the online auction, some of the music and many of the photographs will be available for purchase online after the show.  Again, proceeds donating the RMCCF.  Tickets to the show will be $40, and will also be available online beforehand.

Finally, because of the cost of the venue, the band, etc., we are seeking sponsors.  In the $500-1000 range purely to help offset costs, so there are more proceeds for donation.  If you’d like more information or know a company or person who might be interested, please let me know.

Everything Changes.  Honor Sarah, fight cancer, have fun.

So the kids’ normal bedtime routine is to read a couple of books, then fall asleep watching a movie.  With any luck, they both fall asleep.  Otherwise, hopefully the one sleeping remains that way while the other one yells at me with an update.  Think I’ve told this tale before.

Sometime around Christmas, they came home with a new favorite movie, Mr. Mom.  Yep, that one.  Michael Keaton, Teri Garr, that one.  They love it, think it’s the funniest thing since the most recent funniest thing.  Which I find extremely annoying, because it feels like they’re laughing at me.  Of course, I’ve refused to watch it again, so maybe I should do that.  220, 221, whatever it takes.

The kids were gone Friday night, so I headed downtown to meet a friend.  Or two, but one of them stood us up for either high school wrestlers or high school cheerleaders, depending on which story you believe.  It was all good, nice dinner and conversation and cold beers.  But then done around 8:00 with absolutely nothing to do.  It’s still ridiculously odd and uncomfortable to go home to an empty house in those circumstances.  But was cold and odder to walk around downtown aimlessly so home I went.  I’m practically begging for some time alone at times, but am often still unable to really cope when that happens.

I’m still detailing the details of both new kitchen tile and Sarah’s monument.  Both of which I would much prefer to have her opinion on.  People (women mostly) tell tales of going and buying new whatever and their spouses not knowing anything of it, but that’s not how we operated.  We generally made all those decisions together… The stoplight in the living room, the colors on the walls, the silverware, the new tv, we bought most of it together.  After much conversation in most cases.

Back to people laughing at me, here’s some funny flaws pointed out recently:

• In a conversation about opinions, I stated something along the lines of “I just state my opinion, when asked.”  A friend then responded, rightly, something along the lines of “you don’t just state your opinion.  You wad it up in a ball and wing it at the person.”  Fair enough.  Which explains why I sometimes have a post it note above my keyboard at work saying “Be Nice.”  I don’t mean to be mean.  Rarely think I actually am, of course I’m probably not the best person to ask that.
• Someone also recently mentioned a book they said reminded them of me.  Or I reminded them of the book.  Or something.  So I go to Amazon and find it, start reading the review.  “His analysis (is) personally revealing rather than profoundly insightful” and “sometimes falls into merely self-indulgent musing.”  I have no idea what made them think of me.
• I was also reminded that I was clueless and occasionally idiotic with regards to dating in the early years of college especially.  (Mostly it was me reminding myself of theses facts, and I’m sure others could chime in here.  Please don’t.)  Glad that’s no longer an issue.

Last Saturday, a group of folks who I’d asked came to the house and went through Sarah’s closet and other personal belongings.  It’s one of those transition things that people always talk about being hard.  I skirted my responsibilities by having them do it, while I entertained the kids all day.

Not skirting, though, really, as I thought that was the best group of people to do it.  Perfect combination of connection to Sarah, common sense, and looking out for the kids to do whatever was appropriate with whatever they came across.  Of course, as is common, they went above and beyond and left me with nothing to do.  I was fully expecting and prepared to need to shuttle the different stacks of stuff around, if only inside the house.

I know it was a long and difficult day for them, but I appreciate them doing it.  The sight of the redone closet didn’t impact me like I expected it would, but it was shocking, sad, and sorrowful to open each drawer in the chest and find nothing but emptiness.  The hollowness of the drawers left little room for delusions.

Speaking of delusions, Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.  Sarah & I generally didn’t celebrate it much, both believing it to be largely a Hallmark Holiday.  Especially when we were younger, and there was more time for celebrating on normal days.  But I feel oddly like I should do something tomorrow for her.  I truly think she would find that absurd, which is my initial reaction too, but it keeps coming back up.  We’ll see, I guess.

On the homefront, Jack is almost completely diaper free these days.   Much thanks to the preschool and the sitter for working on that.  Our kitchen floor was poorly installed during the addition process, so I’m going to have it tiled soon.  Although Sarah & I talked about changing it for months and years, I find myself hesitant to do something different.  So, may end up tiling it to look strikingly similar to the current flooring.  Stay tuned.

Oxymoron?

The date for Everything Changes is set for June 5, 2009, at The Soiled Dove in Denver, Co.  More info on the event posted here previously, but in short, Honor Sarah, Fight Cancer, Have Fun.  Proceeds from the event will benefit the Rocky Mountain Cancer Centers Foundation.

The title comes from Lance Jungmeyer’s song, which he’s just put on youtube.

Everything Changes – written and performed by Lance Jungmeyer

More details posted as they come, or the facebook group is staying current.

I woke up this morning around 3:00 to the sound of the Grant School bell going off.  Adelaide snoring.  And Jack singing in his sleep.  “Hey, want the funk.  What funk?  That garbage funk!  Hey, want the funk.  What funk?  That garbage funk!”  Insanity.  According to both Adelaide & Jack that’s a song in a Disney show, although I find it hard to believe (edited:  but the internet doesn’t lie:  youtube clip.)

For some reason, though, garbage funk seems to describe my mood the past few days.  With “what funk?” being an apt question as I’m unable to figure out how to find my way out of it.  I’ve mentioned it before, but after the new year I’ve had a hard time finding something to look forward to, which is definitely part of it.  Occasionally something comes up that lifts my mood, but timing, circumstances, people of different opinions, or too much hype pops the balloon.

I feel like I’ve started toward normal, which didn’t seem possible for a long time.  But any step toward normal is uneasy and awkward.  I know I wish I’d never have mentioned anything about dating in this space.  Which serves me right, as I specifically told people I wouldn’t put anything like that here and then ignored my own advice.  No one freaked out, except me, but it’s a conversation I’m mostly not ready to have with hardly anyone.  So putting it in a public space was a bad move.

In other news…

People are still great about asking if I need anything.  Which, specifically, I don’t need anything.  I do still need help, though, especially with the kids, but I’m miserable at giving you a good answer to “what can I do?”  If you have something specific in mind, I’m happy to have specific offers, which we’ll accept or not as we can.  If you ask “can I do anything?” the answer is probably going to be no.

Adelaide had her second set of ear tubes inserted on Monday, with the added bonus of adnoids taken out, but is doing well.  She was in good spirits by Monday night and went to school and dance on Tuesday.  No ear infections, just drainage issues impacting hearing.  Same deal as last year, with immediate improvement afterwards, also like last year.

SEMO got hit by a lot of ice, if you haven’t heard.  My older brother Mitch put some pictures up of the aftermath here.  Impressive and devastating.

I’ve finalized the last details of Sarah’s memorial stone.  I’ve asked the cemetery people to call the monument people to make sure everyone is thinking of everything, then will order from there.  Probably won’t be in place until late Spring, at the earliest.

I’ve also been approached by the State Historical Society of Missouri about donating Sarah’s work to their archive.  As I understand it anyway, there’s a “Women in Journalism” segment of their Western Historical Manuscript Collection which would be appropriate for Sarah’s photographs.  Nothing official yet, but certainly something I’m strongly considering.  There are literally bookshelves filled with negatives and disks and disks filled with digital photographs, would hate for it to be lost.

I had a pretty good week last week, especially considering Wednesday night was filled with a vomiting 6-year old.  Nothing headline worthy — it didn’t start raining gumballs or anything, but a good week.  A couple of very enjoyable lunches, nothing really irritating happened at work, Shakespeare’s for at least one meal, lots of laughter, and so on.  Easy to please, but a good week.

It was topped by my mom calling Thursday night late saying they were going to come up over the weekend, if that was OK.  It certainly was, both because it had been a bit since we’d seen them (which now means something like 3 or 4 weeks, given the habits of the latter part of 2008), and because it was going to give me some time out.

So, then Friday I made last-minute plans to meet relatively new friends out for the night.  I was bubbling with excitement and couldn’t wait to go.  That went well, a good time was had by all (I think).  Being this was a normal Friday night for them, they went home.  I went out further, ran into another group of relatively new friends at the second stop, continued fun.

Then woke up Saturday with a guilty conscious to go along with my headache, and the former remained with me for the duration of the weekend.  I feel guilty for wanting to be away from the kids.  I feel guilty for sleeping in late both days and letting my parents deal with the kids.  I feel guilty that I believe they’re better off and happier when other people are entertaining them.  I feel guilty for not just going out on Friday night, but for making every effort to keep going to keep the good times going.

After a couple of conversations with various people earlier in the month, I’ve also quit wearing my wedding ring.  I still have to stop myself from putting it on when I grab stuff in the morning.  I’d given much thought to how much time was appropriate, had thought about various anniversaries, etc., but in the end just stopped one morning when it seemed like I was lieing by putting it on.

However, going out and having fun with no wedding ring also seemed like a lie.  It made no difference to the amount of attention paid to me or paid to others by me (and never has, despite urban legends of a ring being an attractor/detractor), but was something else that was on my mind during the fun.

Finally, because it’s come up a few times from different directions, I have no idea how dating works in my situation.  Everyone seems to assume or recognize that I’ll likely eventually date again and likely even eventually marry again.  Even me.  However, how does that happen?  How can I even consider it and be fair and true to the kids and to Sarah?  And when can that happen?  How can I even consider it and pretend I’ll be any good for someone new in my current state?  Seems like any potential date should get a warning from others:  this guy is jacked up for a while, you might just milk it for a free meal or two then leave him alone.  Like anyone I might actually even want to date, I really wouldn’t want to put them through that.  And if I wait until I’m sure I’ll be any good for someone, are we confident the world will exist that long?

I asked Adelaide at dinner last night if they’d talked about the Inauguration at school.  She knew all about it, including the names of all involved, and said they’d watched part of it in their class room.

After dinner, then, she wanted to watch more, which was a welcome relief from the Disney Channel.  We watched, both kids wanted to know who everyone was and couldn’t understand why I didn’t know the names of the Honor Guard members, the drivers, etc.  And couldn’t understand that McCain had never been President.  And “Where’s Michelle?”

After a bit, “Daddy, I think you could be President,” Adelaide said.  “I think you should.”  Oh yeah?  “Then we could do whatever we wanted in the White House.  We could jump on our beds.  And play our radio as loud as we wanted.”

After a bit more, she asked “Why can’t I be President?”  You can.  “How do I become President.”  You first have to let everyone know you want to be, then work very hard, then hopefully you’ll be elected.  “Nah, I don’t want to work really hard.  I know, I’ll find someone else to do all the hard work for me, then after the election I’ll show up and say “I’m here, I’m the President!” “