‘Thoughts and Prayers’

 Again another tragedy. While most of us shake our heads and cry for those affected we find ourselves at a loss. So we give a version of  “I am so sorry for your loss,”. "You are in our thoughts and prayers". To some this is nothing more than a "I'm sorry for your loss" to others who believe in a higher power it is a powerful tool. Either way it is said out of something called empathy. Although most of us cannot even begin to understand what exactly people of a tragedy are feeling we are able to imagine their suffering and fear and to wonder how we would react in their place. It is called being compassionate.

The mocking of course starts right away. "Your thoughts and prayers are not enough!" This mocking only displays that persons lack of understanding. When people say "Thoughts and Prayers" they are reaching beyond themselves to offer some relief. Often, at the time it is the most someone can do. Especially if the tragedy is not happening in front of someone but is rather being reported from a far off location. 

When we are confronted with suffering, everybody uses familiar phrases and behaviors. They help us get through the hardest of times. When your friend tells you about their divorce. Your co-worker received bad medical news. A death or a national tragedy. It's not the words that you use that are extremely important, it is your acknowledgement and empathy that are. It is a way of showing solidarity with those who suffer.

For those who think action should be taken instead of words of compassion are denying those who cannot do anything, especially in the wake of a tragedy of expressing their compassion and empathy. Maybe those who want to deny others from expressing themselves should try practicing some compassion, empathy and grace themselves. We need more of it.  

 

No, We Are Not In This Together

I have grown to hate the phrase we are in this together. All one needs to do is read Facebook or Twitter for ten seconds and you will find out this is not true.

Once again the mentality has broken down to one of two sides. Open up or lock it down until we have a cure. Unfortunately locking down until we have a cure was never the goal and states keep pushing back the open date. That alone has frustrated so many. If you even try to discuss opening up you are accused of only wanting to make a dollar and don't care about those dying. I've read posts by people say you can recover from not having a job but you cannot recover from death. My personal favorite is, maybe if you knew someone who had Covid-19 you wouldn't be so quick to reopen. Both are insults. To suggest that someone does not understand the pain of loosing someone? That they haven't entered that into their equation about reopening is just absurd and when you tell someone you can recover from a job loss is totally dismissing their pain. That somehow because they are not dealing with death that their pain is not real. Well, shame on you!

One person's pain is not lessened just because you can point to someone who has it worse. Yes we do that many times to remind ourselves about the many blessings we do have but when it's done from a outside source it's a total dismissal of the hurt that person is feeling. We make a heart shape with our hands, we cut out paper hearts and hang them in our front windows and then we dismiss the suffering of our fellow man because it's not death?. In this together? We are as long as you think like me I guess.

There has been over 88,000 deaths in the United States at the time I wrote this. That is terrible. Each one of those people left a family devastated. I get it. We all know that. There is also been 33 million people file for unemployment. Behind each of those numbers is a family suffering. But they don't matter because....death. In the United Kingdom on average 2 deaths a week happen from domestic abuse. The three weeks following lock down? Sixteen. For each of those families they are experiencing suffering but they don't matter because...death. Financial ruin, doesn't matter. Depression? Substance abuse on the rise. Who cares...it's not death. 

A recent Kaiser Family Poll nearly found that half of Americans report the coronavirus crisis is harming their mental health. A federal emergency hotline for people in emotional distress had a 1,000 percent increase in April compared with the same time last year. A online therapy company called Talkspace reported a 65 percent jump in clients since mid-February. But we dismiss anyone who wants to get back to normalcy.

Normalcy is what keeps some people hanging on. The purpose of going to work all day can mean more than a paycheck. It gives many purpose. It may keep another from returning to the bottle he finally gave up two years ago. The convict who was released last year and finally found someone who would hire him but now finds himself out of a job. I could go on. 

But if all that doesn't grab your attention maybe this will. If mental abuse, and spousal abuse is on the rise then so is child abuse. According to RAINN, the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network, which runs the National Sexual Assault Hotline, at the end of March there was a 22% increase in monthly calls from people younger than 18. That was at the beginning of the lock down! During that time 67% identified their perpetrator as a family member and 79% said they were currently living with that perpetrator. Now, with schools closed I wonder how many of these abuses are going undetected because teachers and administrators are unable to see these children and report these crimes. Instead, these children are at home, not even able to go to the local playground and are stuck with their abusers. 

So next time you sit behind your computer being the mask police and criticize someone who wants a return to normalcy of being cold and uncaring, I think you better look into the mirror. Quit dismissing others pain because it is real and it is being felt by millions. Use your energy to care for those people. If nothing else, stop with your constant bitching about everyone else. Your constant critical posts are not going to make you approachable for when someone does need help. You have already told them their pain doesn't matter because you know....death. 

If you think someone is at immediate risk of self-harm or hurting another person:

•  Call 911 or your local emergency number.

•  Stay with the person until help arrives.

•  Remove any guns, knives, medications, or other things that may cause harm.

•  Listen, but don’t judge, argue, threaten, or yell.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, get help from a crisis or suicide prevention hotline. Try the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255.

www.timolson.info

It's Too Late.

    Yesterday marked my mothers 70th birthday, Only it didn't. She hasn't had a birthday in 29 years. No it isn't some type of trick she pulls to keep her age a secret and remain young forever. She passed away in 1989. In a way she is going to be forever young since none of us will ever see her as a old woman. She will always be 41.

My mom and I about 7 months before she died. The last time I
not only saw her but spoke to her.

     The morning of March 19th was as ordinary as any other until my phone rang. It's really strange how something as normal as the phone ringing can change your entire life. Your phone rings hundreds of times conditioning your mind. Never thinking that your world will be shaken to the core. I would have never guessed in a million years what I was about to be told on that call but as soon as I heard my step dad's voice I knew something wasn't right.

     My mom had moved to California and I hadn't seen her or talked to her since I visited the August before. She was busy with her new life and I with mine. She was now remarried and trying hard to make ends meet. Working two jobs to support her new (and lazy) husband and my sister. I was working and had my own relationship that kept my time full. The one thing that we both had in common was that we both took for granted that we would always be there.

     It's too late. It had now become to late for me to pick up the phone and call my mom. Something I thought I should do week after week since our visit. The longer time from the visit the more I thought about it. Sometimes at work I would think when I get home I should give her a call. Then at home the thought would enter my mind. But for some reason my hand never grabbed the phone and pushed those numbers. Now, it was too late.

     Over the years I have accumulated tons of questions. I remember as kids that we flew to Indiana to visit her mom. Did we only ever do that once or was there another time I can't remember? What foods did I like as a kid? My son Alex looks so much like me, are our personalities the same?

     We also think of things we should have said. My relationship with both my parents was very strained to say the least so there was a lot of things that shouldn't have been said but were. The things that should be said will not be and the things that were can not be unsaid. It's too late.

     Sometimes we find ourselves burnt by the hot stove of life. Sometimes scars are left for a lifetime and the only thing that helps heals those scars is the fact that you can prevent others from receiving them. So we stand near the stove and stop everyone from placing their hands upon the red hot burner. It gives meaning to your scars.

     I'm here to prevent you from having those scars. DO NOT let it be to late. DO NOT forget those important questions. DO NOT forget to say your sorry. DO NOT forget to say those all to important words. I LOVE YOU. Tomorrow is not promised so do not let the sun set another day without saying what needs to be said or you will find out that It's too late.
   

Sometimes being a Dad sucks

     So often you get on the internet and you find blogs about the joys of parenthood.  You read about all the joys of having kids and yes it's all true.  My kids give me more joy than I could have ever imagined.  Laying down my life for them in not even a question.  They have made me laugh harder than any comedian or movie ever has.  But at the same time they have brought tears to my eyes.  Yes at times they have done things that hurt me or disappointed me. Worse than that is when they hurt because life is hard and you cannot shield them from the pain.

     Four years ago my wife Lori and I brought home the cutest puppy.  Our kids had been asking for a dog for a while and we would look at them from time to time.  It was a very hard decision for us as we don't have a lot of family to help us care for him.  We knew we were giving up weekend getaways that we regularly enjoyed.  We would have to make visits to friends and family short so we could get home to let him out.  But on that day we saw our little brown ball of fur and we knew we needed to bring him home.  We told all the kids to sit on the couch as we had a surprise.  He stayed quite and we placed him on the living room floor.  We told them to open their eyes and the look on their faces were priceless.  He ran over to them and tried to jump on the couch but it was too high.  We told them to pick him up and my oldest picked him up and started to cry.  Love at first sight is possible.  He tried to hide the tears and he did a good job but I saw them on the video replay.  He was so small, brown with one white paw.  I called him Buster brown on the way home and the name stuck.

    Over the years Buster became such a huge part of our lives.  He was our shared love and joy.  He made us laugh when a lonely fart would sneak out and scare him.  We loved watching him as he would try to bury his rawhide bones in the couch.  He would entertain us when I would give him a empty 20 oz pop bottle that I would tightened the cap on making the bottle have no give.  He would try to pick it up only to have it shoot out of his mouth and across the floor.  He would chase it and do it again.  But most of all he loved us.  He would greet all of us at the door.  He would lick each and every one of us as we came into the house.  He always wanted to be close to us and his favorite was his "mama".  He loved my wife and spent most of his time curled up next to her.

     My oldest son referred to him as his best friend.  So when Buster started to act a little strange we became concerned.  He acted like it hurt to pee.  We called the vet and they couldn't see him until the next day.  A bladder infection was what we thought as he started peeing in the house but soon he wasn't going at all.  We would take him out and he would try but nothing would happen.  About four in the morning he started crying and barking.  We tried to comfort him.  By seven Lori took him to the vet and he was making the worst sounds.  Moaning like a person.  We never would have thought that within eight hours he wouldn't be with us any longer.

     At about 2 pm Lori called me at work and I came home fast.  The x-rays were in and the news wasn't good.  We had to act fast because he had a bladder stone in his urinary tract that was blocking his urine and if we didn't do something soon it would explode.  The vet had never seen such a big stone for such a small dog.  It was the size for a lab, not a 20 pound dog.  He could not give any guarantee that anything we did would help.

     We sat the kids down and explained to them what was going on.  We could do all the things the vet said and try to save him or we could let him go.  Trying meant thousands of dollars with the slimmest chance it would work.  It was the hardest conversation we have ever had.  I just couldn't look at my kids, their eyes were so full of tears.  Wetting their shirts as they rolled off their faces.  Nobody would answer us.  So Lori and I told them that we think its best to let him go but that if any of them want to try to save him we will.  Finally my oldest spoke up and said three words I will never forget him saying.  "Put him down"  It had to be the hardest thing he ever did.  In saying that he knew his best friend was no longer going to be with us.

     Lori and I looked at each other and she asked me to call the vet as tears filled her eyes.  I said OK.  We walked downstairs to my office and I told her that I didn't think I could say the words.  I knew that by calling I will be giving the orders to have our dog put down and to never return.  I knew that making that call would put into motion hurt for all of us.  I did not want to do it.  There are times you have to man up and take it for everyone else.  I told Lori that I will pay what ever it takes if  the result of what I was about to do meant that someone would hate me.  She said I love you and I know you would.  I walked back and forth crossing the floor gathering my thoughts and holding back the tears. I picked up the phone and dialed the number.

     When I hung up the phone I broke into tears and told her we needed to go say goodbye.  We called the kids downstairs and we gathered for prayer.  I lead us in a prayer asking for Busters suffering to be over.  For us and our hurt.  Our broken hearts.  I hugged everyone and we gathered ourselves and drove in silence to the vet.

     We arrived and they brought Buster out.  They had him in pain medication but the way he walked you could tell he was still in some pain.  They took us to a back room and left us to say good bye. Lori and the kids took time petting him.  He walked around confused and never licked any of us.  I stood watching my family have it's heart broken unable to do anything.  Their tears triggered mine. They all kept petting him and telling him how much they loved him.

     I finally got down on the floor to say good bye.  I pet him for a second and then I put my head down on him and all the hurt that I was holding back opened up and I cried like I never have in front of everyone.  I was a slobbering baby.  My furry buddy was about to die and my wife and kid's hearts were being split in two.  My protection mode was going but there was not a thing I could do.  There was no way for me to prevent the events of the day.  My mind raced, I bargained, I pleaded, and I could do nothing.

     Yes my children are wonderful.  They are the most special and important thing in my life.  I do understand that someday the wound will have healed.  I also understand that if used right this situation will make us stronger as individuals and as a family.  But my protective side hurts for now,  Having to make that call, having to tell my kids such hurtful news, and not being able to protect from the situation makes me realize that sometimes it sucks being a Dad.

Blessings

     In my up coming book "Growing Up Nobody" I write about the fond memories I have of Thanksgiving at my Grandparents home.  All the kids would be playing.  Football, board games and Lego's occupied our time.  The men sat in the living room watching the parade or the game and the women would be in the kitchen preparing the meal that would soon be making it's way into our bellies.  There would be more pans on the stove than there were burners.  A careful balancing act was performed to keep all the items warm until it was time to eat.

     We would all pile into the small dining room with the kids sitting at a small folding table a.k.a. the kids table.  The smells of the food filling our noses we would be told to wait as we needed to say grace.  My immediate family never prayed and I always felt uncomfortable.  The prayer of course was filled with things we were grateful for including our shelter and the food we were staring at with one open eye. 

     For years I have heard people describe their blessings and they always included those basic items.  They also included things like health, peace and friendships.  But I have never heard anyone say they are thankful for the trials in their lives.  We say things like "what doesn't kill you will make you stronger" and hold up people who over come adversity.  We all love a underdog story.  Even Edgar Allan Poe said "Never to suffer would never to have been blessed."

     So why don't we embrace our struggles and be thankful for them?  Even small trials are character builders.  They are the things that form who we are.  So much of how we react, feel, and our beliefs are formed in those moments. 

     While we are faced with the pain and hurt of our trials we cannot see what good can come from it.  For most of my life I faced one trial after another.  Many of them piled one on top of the other.  I couldn't understand why I was facing all the things that came my way and I felt like I was being punished.  I had no idea that years later my story would bring hope to people.  When I watched my dad take is last breath I had no idea it would give me empathy for those who have lost someone close.  I had no idea that when I was being bullied in school that I would be able to relate to someone who feels worthless.  I also never imagined that I would be opening myself up by putting it all down in a book.  But I am thankful for all that I have been through because it has made me who I am today.

     This Thanksgiving be thankful for your heartaches and your trials.  Be thankful that you have had the opportunity to grow.  You are who you are today because of your experiences good and bad.  Embrace them, learn from them, and use them to improve your life and use them to improve the life of others.  Nobody knows better what is down the road than those who have walked it before.  After all there is no light without the darkness.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Tim "Timo" Olson

Author of

"Growing Up Nobody"

to be released soon