A Tale of Two Father's Days

Just wanted to drop in on this subject, hoping it makes people think.

I had a pretty great Father's Day weekend - even though my girls were in Oregon with their mother, they called me twice, told me they loved me, and talked at some length about what they were doing there. The first was on Saturday while I was en route to Marin to go hiking with Vanessa, and the second was Sunday morning to say Happy Father's Day. I love them more than my own life itself. I also got to spend some quality time with Ness, going on a 11.5 mile hike in the Marin wilderness (Sky/Bear Valley loop near Point Reyes - see here for details). Granted that was no easy hike, it took over 3 hours and the first 2 miles are almost directly uphill to an elevation of 1300 ft, but it felt good to test out this new body I've been working on for the past three months and come out (mostly) unscathed (I say mostly cause my hips and feet were totally sore afterward, largely due to what became the Hungry Girlfriend Run over the last 4 miles). On Sunday we went to visit Ness' dad in Stockton with her sister Nicole. We all went out to lunch and then bowling, and then despite the fact that I totally suck at bowling (I cannot even break 100), and that I aggravated a left glute strain from the hike the day before, I had a great time. And yeah "left glute" means "left butt cheek". After you're done laughing about that, picture trying to stand and/or walk around on that and it's not quite as funny. I just got done sitting on an ice pack for 20 minutes if that gives you an idea. Shut up.

I said this was a tale of TWO father's days, this is what I meant. First read this. There is a video circulating on the internet of this young Iranian woman Neda, who is extraordinarily beautiful, or should I say was because the video shows her dying in her father's arms after having been shot through the heart. She and her father were attending a protest of the recent (and likely farcical) election results in Iran. According to the account of a doctor who shot the video and attempted to save her, she and her father were on a corner merely observing the protest when she was needlessly targeted and killed - most likely because she was a symbol of everything the Iran government fears : young, active, concerned, beautiful women who do not hide themselves under shrouds. It is not clear who fired the shot or why, these are my assessments having seen the video and where she stood - holding no signs, carrying no weapons, posing no threat other than the symbolic measure of who she was.

As I mentioned there is a video, and I have seen it. I will advise you not to go looking for it although I know some of you will, because as I have cautioned my girls in the past, there are things in this world you cannot UN-see or UN-hear once you have witnessed them. And the sight of this woman collapsing and dying in an awful bleeding mess while her father screams at her in Farsi to STAY...is not something you can undo. I lost my father exactly a year ago tomorrow to congestive heart failure, just over a week after I'd said Happy Father's Day for the last time. It's still difficult when I see the reminders on your computer to remember father's day for your dad. I cannot, because I don't have one. I have only myself and my family and friends, and with their help I have managed to soldier through it. But I cannot fathom this father's pain. To borrow the words of a friend's father speaking at his son's funeral, "...to bury your child is not the natural order of things.....it is backwards and wrong...." I can only hang my head in empathetic pain and imagine.

A side note here, to my father : one of the last few things I remember him saying other than "I love you too" in our annual Father's Day call was him looking at my advanced size during a visit a couple months prior and saying to me "you ARE going to lose the weight...aren't you?" Well from the beginning of March 2009 through today, I'm down 35 pounds, I'm 7 pounds away from my initial goal weight, and looking to blast through that to see just how in-shape I can get. I'm actually thinking about running a 5K race to see how competitive I can be, a half-marathon as a way station, and a marathon just to say I could. So yeah, dad....I am.

At any rate, I just felt like getting that out. I'm not the religious sort so I'm not going to say count your blessings or do this with your prayers or whatever the hell it is the church people say to each other in these situations. If that makes you feel better, then all power to you, but my views are much more earthly and simple. I'm just going to say be thankful for what you have, and be present enough in this moment to truly see it. And I mean now. Wake up. Life is short and precious and if you're stuck in some bullshit personal despair saying "I can't" then you are wasting that gift. Take inventory of the people and things you already have, and allow that to truly guide your heart for the future. I'm happy I still have a home and a job, that I live in a country that's affluent enough to outlast even outright fascism, that I still have the remainder of my family, my friends and a wonderful girlfriend around me when I truly need them. But mostly at this moment I'm thankful that I am able to push my girls on swings or toss them into the air while they scream with delight rather than watching them die needlessly on the ground. I'm thankful even though they drive me crazy fighting in the background or interrupting for snacks and attention while I'm trying to work from home.

It's a short drive anyway, girls...let's go.

P.S. - Happy Father's Day anyway, dad