Karate has been part of my sons lives now for the past 5 years. A young energetic sensei opened a school near by and my youngest was my first to join up. He was 5 years old, had Power Ranger aspirations. The way he smiled and bounced through that dojo he looked like Tigger in a gee....before I knew it, Gabe and Will were sporting the gee too........
Because the school was new, there was a certain sense that we were all starting this together. Parents would wait and watch through the glass doors. While the children praticed thier pinions, we went from exchanging pleasantries, to exchanging opinions....not to mention many jokes and a few cocktail recipes.....In the beginning I practically lived there, with 3 boys in 3 seperate classes, each going twice a week it was mayhem, now my children far more independent, I had been dropping them off and picking them up, barely ever finding the time to sit and watch and chat.
Well, today, as I walked into the school, the sensei came to me to let me know that one of the dad's that I most enjoyed talking to, passed away. He had a massive heart attack. His son found him. His wake was tonight, he told me where knowing I would want to attend. Here's the thing.......Mike's face would light up when he talked about his wife, his daughter, his son. This man wore the pride he felt for his son, for his family, like a king would wear a crown, or Jennifer Lopez would strut in Loubutins......He was what my people, the Cubans, would call "un buenaso", the Barbara Steisand Brooklyn translation would be he's "like butter"...basically a genuinely good guy....He wrote computer programs, but was laid off and ended up becoming a manager at Home Depot. His goal was to finish a program he was creating that he felt would revolutionalize the business world....how? He explained, but it was way over my technically challenged head.......
There are so many conversations I can immediately flip through, 5 years worth, to be exact.....but the one that stands out came when I turned 40 and started to talk about my midlife "reassessment"....and my absolute bewilderment as to where my time had gone....crazed I would say if "I paid attention to where I put it, then I won't have to wonder where it went"..he would laugh and say "if you paid attention your shirt wouldn't be inside out, your socks would match.....and you wouldn't have pencils sticking out of your head"....quickly followed by "stop being so hard on yourself, relax 40 turns into 50 sooner than you expect..Breathe, enjoy, with all that goes on, you have to let some go".......
Except he was only 45. Here I was wondering what I'll be when I grow up, what direction I need to take.......wanting so much to feel like I knew what I was doing....wanting to be respected for my artwork.....wanting to actually feel like I was good enough......and yet, my first thought for Mike was not if he got to finish his dream project, but of all the dreams he had that he would miss out on.....Watching his children grow, graduate, marry, become parents, all while holding his wife's hand.....I couldn't help but be completely heartbroken for his wife who was faced with the nightmare of having to nurture her children through thier grief, then have to walk into a bedroom suspended somewhere between what was and what remains. Those spaces inbetween.....
Tonight, as I waited on the recieving line, I looked at the collages set up....large framed images of his life overlapping one another....He went from his cradle, to cradling his own children in his arms....a lifetime of frozen moments....the most important moments in his life....and it was all about the people and the places that mattered to him..... I couldn't help but think that perhaps what defines me has more to do with who I love, how I love ,than I ever gave credit too....here I was struggling to find myself again, complaining how easy it is to lose yourself to the demands of motherhood, matrimony, and life in general....when easily I am found in them all....wanting to be respected for my art, wanting to be at a place where I felt completely confident, dreams of a legacy left on museum walls (delusions of granduer), suddenly doesn't feel as important as sitting down to the dinner table as a complete family, or watching my kids ride ahead on thier bikes as I trail behind with Reeses.....going to a concert, or to a stepping up ceremony.....to a graduation..... watching them jump into thier pool.....being present to help my sons transition from boys to men....holding my husband's hand........"breathe...relax.....enjoy".....
Still I think of those glass doors, and the lessons learned on both sides................
and my heart breaks for my karate friend................
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