tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40869082562117319892024-03-08T14:19:25.564-08:00Reflecting on FatherhoodChenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-36430736833037247402015-06-09T22:25:00.001-07:002015-06-09T22:25:16.286-07:00OkinawaWhen I was 11-12 years old,I lived in Oki-Yomitan Village in Okinawa, Japan. Those were some of the happiest days of my life, and I try to carry a piece of Okinawa in my heart everyday. The people of Okinawa were some of the nicest people I have ever known, and their genuine kindness toward an American kid has always been important to me. I can only hope that everyone has the opportunity to meet the Other and form a meaningful friendship the way I did. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-54554087445887962492015-06-03T20:41:00.001-07:002015-06-03T20:41:47.838-07:00Adult?Sometimes I do become sad when I realize that I am a functioning adult, but I cannot ask my mother how she got me to this place. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-77451882784505952672015-05-24T00:46:00.001-07:002015-05-24T00:46:20.799-07:00Be RightI tell you what. When someone does everything right for you and you do one thing wrong, even unintentionally, it is a disaster. You can never take it back. You can never undo the hurt. All you can do is accept defeat. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-26519463283809042015-05-06T09:00:00.001-07:002015-05-06T09:00:58.346-07:00TerribleSometimes I feel like I am a terrible father. <div>Sometimes I feel like I am a terrible husband. </div><div>Sometimes I feel as though I am the outsider in our family. As though I hold everyone back. As though I am a problem. </div><div>I do not know if other fathers feel this way, but there are days and weeks where I feel as though I can do nothing right and that the entire family would be better without me. It is nothing more than my own selfishness that I stay around. I need my wife and children. The odd thing is that I would feel like nothing without them, but I also feel like a burden to them. </div>Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-19861418558157552532015-04-27T08:30:00.001-07:002015-04-27T08:30:17.907-07:00Get upYou will be told for your entire life that it's doesn't matter whether you get knocked down; it matters that you get back up. The problem is that no one ever says that it's alright to stay down for awhile to heal. No one will tell you that it's okay to stop for a little while and catch your breath and heal. No one tells you to lift your head up slowly to become reoriented and see if you just might want to take some time to figure out your next move. They just tell you to get back up, and cruel parts of our world will take advantage of you in those moments, and that can be absolutely devastating. That can crush a person's soul. <div> I'm telling you that it's perfectly fine to take a breath and get your bearings straight before you get back up. I'm telling you to take a moment so that you can think before you try do do something just to do something because that can destroy a person. </div><div>It just might save you in the long run. </div>Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-57086058147561498352015-04-27T08:08:00.001-07:002015-04-27T08:08:18.873-07:00DepressionIn the moments when my mental state hits the floor and it takes everything I have to keep it together is when I crack a little bit. Unfortunately, you guys are often the target of my frustration. It is in these moments that I feel useless. In these moments I feel as though you all would be better without me. It is in these moments when suicide become a real option that I must convince myself is unnecessary. I am not proud of this, but it is true that I am not as mentally strong as I wish I could be. It is true that I often feel like I am worthless. I feel like a burden that deserves to be lifted from your shoulders. Like a weight that you no longer should be required to carry. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-201447649165213832015-04-10T08:24:00.001-07:002015-04-10T08:24:29.085-07:00RememberIt's strange when I consider the things I remember from my childhood. A movie. A song. An afternoon. A tree I climbed. A game. The sounds on a radio. The smell of fresh paint. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-63860257635484830812015-03-31T11:48:00.001-07:002015-03-31T11:48:14.985-07:00Atypical childrenMy children are not typical children for many reasons. Although I won't get into their specific designator a, it is often enough to use their names to describe behaviors, and everyone understands what we mean. Because of who they are, they experience the world in ways that are different from the average child; therefore, the average child also experiences my children in ways that are different than how they experience their typical peers. While I this is easy to reconcile in theory, it is not as easy to do in practical terms. I wish that I was the perfect father who knows exactly how to make the world perfect for my children, but I am not that father. In fact, my shortcomings are regularly pointed out to me, which makes me feel quite inadequate. This might be normal, but it is also quite personal, and for that reason, I fear that I am somehow neglecting some fundamental needs that my children have. All of this because I want them to be safe and happy, and because I know how cruel the world can be to those who do not naturally fit the mold of normal. I do not want my kids to become the victims of cruelty at the hands of their peers. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-27694974842353341992015-03-26T22:38:00.001-07:002015-03-26T22:38:35.147-07:00Susan SarandonSusan Sarandon reminds me of my mother. She"s a little crazy, but classy in a way that reflects a life that has been fully lived, mistakes and all. Plus, Susan Sarandon plays characters who are tough, and my mom was pretty tough, all the way to the end. I sure do miss her. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-47373048812423353132015-03-22T20:23:00.001-07:002015-03-22T20:23:50.728-07:00BalanceI have a very difficult time finding the balance between extremes. I am, by nature, an introvert. That can make life rather tough sometimes. I also do not respond well to very many things. I am sorry for all of my outbursts and wildly inexplicable states. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-17507138817661476802013-12-26T23:19:00.001-08:002013-12-26T23:19:44.771-08:00One great thing is that, when I'm dead and gone, my books with all if my notes scribbled in the margins will remain. Whether anyone has second-hand stories about me, or whether I am completely forgotten, my children, my grandchildren, and hopefully my great-grandchildren will know what I read and what I thought about those works. In those pages they will get to know a man that no one else has ever had the privrledge of knowing. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-54742274066057272672013-12-03T19:41:00.001-08:002013-12-03T19:41:27.459-08:00So today Julian tells me, "Look daddy, my skin is so soft." Problem is, he wasn't touching his leg. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-3717168915493038402013-11-27T06:33:00.001-08:002013-11-27T06:33:20.076-08:00Oddly, I keep getting advertisements popping up web pages wanting me to meet Jewish singles. I have no problem with Jews (although I am an atheist), but the whole dating thing is just annoying. I find it hilarious that I am being targeted as being religious. I find it ridiculous that I am being targeted as single. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-19849549104742775262013-11-24T20:39:00.001-08:002013-11-24T20:39:24.400-08:00I prefer to look at the world, and ever-increasingly the universe, through the lense of curiosity and inquiry. Dogma has no place in my life. Surely, dogma only finds comfort with the spineless and feeble-minded. Stay away from it at all costs; instead, search and search with the understanding that you will merely come to greater understanding as your questions become more profound. Embrace the small surprises that you come across through your research, and never falter in your constant love of knowledge about the world. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-32702703085275627692013-11-24T20:31:00.001-08:002013-11-24T20:31:56.429-08:00As a father, I want what is best for my children. As a husband, I want what is best for my wife. As a teacher, I want what is best for my students. And as an individual, I want what is best for me. Unfortunately, these four ideals seldom coexist in harmony. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-3189760349628352662013-11-24T19:18:00.001-08:002013-11-24T19:18:46.650-08:00I like beer. In fact, unlike it much that I've begun brewing my own. Maya thinks I'm crazy and Jukian likes the tubing. So basically, I have a more typical child who understands that too much beer is bad, and an autistic child who doesn't even consider the beer; he just likes the pipes. I don't knowing that is good or bad. I just know that friends seem to like the beer. I like making the beer. I like sharing the beer. I like drinking the beer. After all, it helps me deal with my kids and our broken stuff. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-72129373064584011222013-11-24T19:13:00.001-08:002013-11-24T19:13:43.199-08:00This week I have learned that I don't like people coming into our house and breaking our stuff. It is a valuable lesson that I am trying to deal with in a way that doesn't make me out to be a jerk because I don't want a bunch of broken stuff (that was recently very good stuff) strewn throughout my house. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-50158930196107634712013-10-21T16:07:00.001-07:002013-10-21T16:07:20.721-07:001976I have find memories of the summer of 1976. I was five, and life was rather carefree, for the most part. I would visit my dad every other weekend, and I was with my mother the rest of the time. I loved baseball. I played with my little brother, who was only a year and a half old. I remember the smell of the smokehouse nearby and the taste of A&W root beer floats. I doubt that I ever actually had one, but memory can make you believe the least <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">likely things. I remember that time as being happy, or should I say that I choose to believe that it was a happy time, even though I know that is only part of the story. </span>Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-7454923429839402562012-12-28T04:30:00.001-08:002012-12-28T04:30:00.132-08:00Bad fatherSometimes the days become difficult to navigate. Some days are just not meant for me to wake up and get out of bed, but I do it anyway. You know which days I'm talking about. Those are the days when I am a grumpy man. Those are the days when I drink too much and yell like a madman. <br />
No apology will ever make up for such ludicrous behavior. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-21351384478681249442012-12-27T22:52:00.001-08:002012-12-27T22:52:55.545-08:00UnderstandYou know, I really want my kids to understand that I wasn't some sort of fucking idiot. I wasn't that selfish. I didn't hate the world. I sure didn't hate them. But I am disturbed at times. I have moments of doubt, pain, shame, and self-doubt. I am human. <br />
Unfortunately, I also have the unreasonable desire to kill myself. I try to put that away in places that cannot surface, but like any snake it surfaces. I also don't want to die. That is quite the dichotomy, isn't it. <br />
I don't know what will be passed along to you, but please know that I love you and your mother very much, and the only reason for my absence is to protect you from myself. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-19295655806246634362012-09-30T07:10:00.001-07:002012-09-30T07:10:35.425-07:00ParenthoodYou will experience the most wondrous victories and the most crushing defeats as a parent. Sometimes you will have them in the same day, or even in the same hour. Still, nothing fills the heart with pure love as when a child climbs into your lap, snuggles into your body, and says, "I love you." nothing compares to that; it is in a special category that few things can compare to. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-23515763663005709692012-09-06T07:52:00.001-07:002012-09-06T07:52:55.641-07:00PerfectFor most of my life, especially as a child and young man, I never even imagined that I could have the stereotypical perfect American life. That part of the American Dream was just too far out of reach. Now that I do have some pieces I it such a the house, the family, and the good job I find myself annoyed with the details that parent it all from being perfect. It is silly, but maybe it is human nature to truly want it all. From having so little, I now have so much, and it is disconcerting that I am not content. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-85320274259981620922012-09-04T08:48:00.001-07:002012-09-04T08:48:42.105-07:00Drop off at schoolI wonder if my mother had the same empty feeling I have when I drop Julian off at school. It is really difficult to explain the drop in my stomach, the sadness in my heart, and the wondering and worry in my mind. I hope he is okay. I hope he has a happy day and no one picks on him. Maybe I only wonder these things because I cannot ask her. Maybe I hope that she did feel the same as I do. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-10502301486569215092012-07-29T18:43:00.001-07:002012-07-29T18:43:48.174-07:00DepressionA couple years ago I almost lost a horrendous battle with depression. For a long time I figured those deep blues came from my mom's death, but now that I have had time to look back with a clearer mind, it seems that the real catalyst was coming to grips with my son's lifelong journey as an autistic. I'll admit, my depression stemmed from selfishness. I realized that there was a distinct reality that we would never send him off to college, he might never marry or have children, and my own stereotypical desires for fatherhood were instantly dashed away. So I mourned for myself. I wallowed in my own self pity. And through the process, I learned more about being a father than I could have ever imagined. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086908256211731989.post-81686010156077698352012-07-12T13:24:00.001-07:002012-07-12T13:24:18.765-07:00Thursday on Summer VacationJulian woke up first a little before 7 o'clock, and then he crawled in bed between us and got under the covers. It was really great because he was smiling and talking his talk. A little while later, Maya woke up and crawled into to bed, too. She laid next to me, snuggled up with her hear half on my chest. Then I had coffee, the kids ate, we ate, Kassie got up an came down stairs, I loaded the bikes into the truck, and we left to take Maya to dance class. Julian stayed with Kassie and Jewel; there are definite advantages to having the older cousins come visit. Denise and I rode around Mission Bay, came home, went to eat at the Olive Garden in the Chula Vista Mall. Julian and I didn't eat much so we came home so I can do yard work before the Marmions come over for a barbecue. What I really want to do is go to Stone Brewing in South Park to fill my growler with something good to share with Colm, but I don't know if I'll have time. For now I just need to cut the grass. <br />
This is the minutia of summer vacation. It isn't spectacular, but it is nice either way. This is also the minutia of life and parenthood; again it is much nicer than any alternative I can think of. Chenohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02580752411339564781noreply@blogger.com0