Gonna

My uncle passed away the other day. I believe that it was by the grace of God that he did. Almost four months ago he had been diagnosed with a horrid type of brain cancer - glioblastoma multiforme (GBM), a stage 4 aggressive primary brain cancer.

From living life and in good health one week to depending on a wheel chair and watching the world slowly and irrevocable ebb way. It seems that he either had a heart attack or a pulmonary embolism. Either way he departed while still living at home, falling asleep each night and waking up each morning to his wife.  So much better than what the future held . . .

Gail and I are fortunate. We were able to take time off work and drove to their home (a few hundred miles away) to have dinner with my uncle and his wife. It was a good visit. It was a visit that we termed as "Putting On Our Big Boy & Girl Pants".  We knew for sure we wouldn't see again.

It was great to see him, visit, share some stories.

We learned family fun facts and lore. For example, I had no idea that the legal first name of my mother is completely different than what I thought.  Perhaps slightly more surprising is that my Uncle and Mom have the same first name - how it is spelled differentiates the female / male. Who gives their kids the same name? Evidently my maternal grandparents! Who knew?

It was so very sad to watch him and his wife interact. To realize that soon their marriage of almost 40 years would end. Not for lack of love, or faith, or due to the stress of raising a family. But due to something so totally not in control - cancer. Certainly not what they planned.

My uncle's passing reminded me of another Uncle (not brothers) that passed about a decade ago. A few years after his passing we saw his wife at a family holiday gathering. We asked her how things were going. She looked us in the eye and said, "You know, we were gonna." She continued that as they raised their kids they put things off. (purchase of "nicer" things, travel, vacations, etc). They would say to each other that someday "they would gonna". Just as my uncle was about to retire he was diagnosed with a form of lung cancer. He was gone within a few weeks.

What my Uncles taught me: "Gonna" will likely never arrive. And cancer really sucks. Cancer doesn't care who you are, who loves you, how good a job you did, what your income is, what great kids you raised, or that there are a bunch of grandchildren that would benefit from you being around. And it certainly doesn't care how much you love your spouse or how long you've been married.

As all this is going through my mind a friend sent a picture - it's of my son and two of his buds from several years ago.

Mike, AJ & Jullian - 2006

The "boys" were hanging out together yesterday so we had them poise in the same order. 

Mike, AJ & Jullian - 2012

Comparing the pics was a "wow" moment. Time passes. I'm glad we are raising our kids and living our lives with plenty of "done that" rather than "gonna".

I'd rather sign off saying "been there, done that" than wishing about the incomplete gonna's.

But I didn't inhale . . .

Former President Clinton almost told the truth (IMHO) when running for election. He claimed to have smoked, but NOT inhale pot. Across the country you could hear snickering. This came to mind last night when an "old friend" came over last night for a class of wine and some visiting. (BTW, she brought over 7 Deadly Zins wine which was very good! I digress . . . she shared a story in which she had breakfast with a friend of hers. They both have kids that are Seniors in high school. The other mother shared how proud she was of her child because he was no longer smoking pot. My friend had a momentary internal conflict. Does she nod her head yes while knowing that the son is still smoking pot, or does she tell her friend.

In the end, as Hillary Clinton's conveyed in her book, "It Takes a Village: And Other Lessons children Teach Us" we parents need to help each other to raise good children to grow into respectable adults. So my friend was honest and shared what was going on. The mother bought a drug test from the local Walgreens and asked her son to do the test. He refused. He whined. He accused his mother of not trusting him. All the while steadfastly refusing to do the drug test. Then the boy went to school and accused the daughter of my friend of being a nark for telling on him. The reality is the daughter had no idea her mother knew; and certainly had no idea what her mother was going to say.

All this brings to mind a couple of thoughts . . .

One, my friend did the absolute right thing. As one parent to another, friend to friend. Her goal was to be supportive and honest with her friend, to help her be an aware mother of what is really up with her child. We all need friends like that. We would "all want to know" if it was our child. We may not like it - but we'd want to know.

Two, the boy is a mess. Not because he's a pothead. He's a mess because he's a liar. He lies to his parents  about who he is and what he's doing. He's not trustworthy. As a parent what would be more hurtful than to know that your child is an untrustworthy liar?

Third, the boy is a jerk. He is making the life of another student miserable by accusing her of doing something she didn't do. And rather than take personal responsibility for the fact that he really is a pot-head he's telling everyone that my friends daughter is a jerk.

I guess there would be something more hurtful than knowing that a child is an untrustworthy liar. It would be to have a child that is an irresponsible untrustworthy liar. What a mess. Hopefully he'll grow up - soon.

Oh, and another thing . . .

The other night, while enjoying dinner, my wife and I were talking about her day at work and what we were going to do that evening. Our 16 year old made a HUGE mistake and walked into the kitchen - which prompted my wife to say "Oh, and another thing (while turning to face our son) YOUR CAR IS A PIGSTY! Then her eyes narrowed and to emphasize her point she repeated "PIGSTY, it's disgusting". Our son has learned a great deal from me in how to stand up to his mother when she is yelling. He kept his mouth shut, bowed his head slightly and concentrated on staring through the floor to China.

Evidently my wife was right. Later that night our son filled one trash bag and brought in two baskets of "stuff" consisting of a sleeping bag and pillow (from a retreat he went to in early August), a broken umbrella, four jackets and, well the list goes on . . .

While my wife was busy playing Mahjong with her girlfriends I sneaked out to my car with a bottle of Windex and paper towels. Just to make sure it would pass any surprise inspection.