Is it Live or is it Memorex?

---Is it Live or Memorex?

Remember that commercial? I do. 

The commercial was trying to sell the audience that music recorded using the Memorex brand was indistinguishable from the real thing. 

Whether or not the Memorex motto held up is debatable, but something that is not up for argument is the fact that the real thing is always the best. Have you ever noticed how imitations can be detected? Maybe not at first, but there always seems to be something that shows the true markings of authenticity.

I remember sitting in an old Cadillac from the early 80's.  You know the type...they take up two parking spaces (I am not talking about side to side either).  The leather in the car was aged -yet not broken.   Then it hit me, aged leather on its worst day is more effective than pleather at its best. 

-What is the point of all this?

There are many who will stop at nothing to fit-in. They focus on all the wrong things like using the right language & wearing certain styles of clothing. They monitor their every move because they are fraudulent at heart.  What a sad life!  E.E. Cummings once said, "To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."  

Remember how I began this post with the Memorex motto?

--Is it live or is it Memorex? 

Well, I might have fibbed a bit up front when I said that I was not sure if the Memorex product sounded like the real thing.  The reason is that because over time we can all spot a faker.  No Memorex, there is nothing quit like the real thing.
That is precisely the reason why we stay up for hours, form long lines and dish out our hard earned money to see our favorite performer in concert.
Becuase we all know the difference between is it live or is it Memorex. 

1 Year

--We miss you.

Losing your Marbles

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the kitchen, with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time.

---Let me tell you about it.

I turned the volume up on my radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning talk show featuring a story about "a thousand marbles."

-I was intrigued and sat down to listen to what he had to say. "Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital. " He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic.

The average person lives about 75 years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about 75 years." "Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime."

"Now stick with me Tom, I'm getting to the important part.

It took me until I was 25 years old to think about all this in any detail", he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. "I got to thinking that if I lived to be 75, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy. "So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round-up 1000 marbles. "I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in my workshop next to the radio.

------Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away.

"I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast.

This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then God has blessed me with a little extra time to be with my loved ones......

"It was nice to talk to you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your loved ones, and I hope to meet you again someday. Have a good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop when he finished.

Even the show's moderator didn't have anything to say for a few moments. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to do some work that morning, then go to the gym.
Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast." "What brought this on?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, nothing special," I said. "It has just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids.
-Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles."

"We all come to the end of our lives as naked and empty-handed as on the day we were born.

We can’t take our riches with us."

– Ecclesiastes 5:15

The Carpenter

Once upon a time,
two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side-by-side, sharing machinery and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch.

Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference and finally, it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.

One morning there was a knock on John's door.
He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's toolbox. "I 'm looking for a few days' work," he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help with?

     Could I help you?

"Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor. In fact, it's my younger brother! Last week there was a meadow between us. He recently took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll do him one better. See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build me a fence an 8-foot fence -- so I won't need to see his place or his face anymore."

The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you."

The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day. The carpenter worked hard all that day -- measuring, sawing and nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.

The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all.

--It was a bridge.

-A bridge that stretched from one side of the creek to the other-

A fine piece of work, handrails and all! And the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming toward them, his
hand outstretched..

"You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done."
The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in middle, taking each other's hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox onto his shoulder.

"No, wait! Stay a few days I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.

"I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said,
                  "but I have many more bridges to build."

Ephesians 4:32  
"Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you."

Baby Anthony: 1 Year later, "The Rest of the Story" part 2.

In those 9 months, your mom and I talked a lot, and not surprising, you were the center of most of our conversations…


--We would dream together about you.
------------What were you going to look like?
---Who’s personality would you take?
-Would you come out of the womb singing Bruce Springsteen?

It is very hard to not have the answers to those questions.
They linger in my heart at all times, serving as a sweet and pungent fragrance reminding me that I will never know…

Baptism:
Not many people know this, but one of the hardest things that I ever had to do in my life was the day that I baptized you. As I took the water and the oil in my hands, I prayed over you, anointed you, and before I could end … I lost it. 
-I totally broke down.
I can remember speaking through my tears saying that, “I wanted to have done this in front of the church, Not here in a hospital.” A person never dreams of a situation like the one Christen and I went through.

Now I lay me down to sleep:
Another unbearable situation was the day the charity, “Now I Lay me Down to Sleep” came to the hospital to take pictures of you. It is hard to wrap your mind around discussing family pictures with your soon to be deceased son. I can remember filling out forms with questions like: “Do you have any favorite Bible verses you would like to add?”, and other types of questions like these before I flung the stack of papers across the table and rivers of tears gushed down my cheeks.

--Like I said a year ago, if you are trying to imagine what Christen and I went through.     
-Don’t-

Advice: Now before I end, let me give you a bit of advice. Thankfully, this does not apply to most people, just a small select that are basically the most ignorant and selfish humans grazing the earth.

*If you ever run across a person that has lost a child, please never say the following:

“You’re young, you will be OK”

“The good news is that you will have more in the future”

“Start focusing on the positive”

“The loss of a child is the same as any other loss in a family”

*Yes, the above is real, and for the sake of decency I will leave off the other comments that I just could not muster up the strength to write, because they might cause you to punch through your computer screen. Truly.

The responses I give to people that say such things may strike you as harsh, but I like to tell them one of two things:

1) I have seen how you live your life. You are the most fragile human I know. A crumbled up piece of paper has more stability in a windstorm than you do on a good day. Your whole world is ruined when you break your nail. If what happened to Christen and I happened to you…you would have a permanent residency on the 5th floor.
-Now go home and continue watching your soap operas.

2) Go to your house. Now go to your tool shed. Find a saw. Cut off your limbs. Now get over losing those.
-Have a nice day.

-I digress.

Honestly, there are things in life that are meant getting over and then there are things that are not. Getting over your favorite football team losing in the playoffs and not getting what you wanted for Christmas are things you get over. Losing a living, breathing person isn’t. It is something you carry with you. Inside of you, till the day you die.

Faith:
I am not sure what to say about my faith.
I can say with certainty that it is a lot more difficult to pray. Not that I am mad at God or holding some type of holy grudge. I am not. It is just something inside of me seems to have died with Anthony. I think it is the childlike element that has passed away for me. The thrill of it all has faded. On the other hand, I know without a doubt that without the Lord’s help, my wife and I would have been totally leveled to a pile of ashes.
At the end of it all, God is still good. And like David, I await a reunion with my son…it will just not be here in this life.

Conclusion:
A year ago I wrote a poem about how little Anthony will always be a mystery to me .
-I can’t believe how right I was.
One year has passed and I just cannot help but be filled with wonder.
I constantly think about how our lives would be entirely different now and how it seems that Christen and I were robbed of the most precious gift any person could ever imagine.
I don’t know if this is strange or not, but every once in a while I find myself envying parents with their kids … especially dads with their sons.

----------------Anthony, I am sorry I will never know you like they know their kids.

Usually it is pretty easy for me to end something when I write. But tonight it is not.

I feel like when I close out this letter, I am shutting some kind of imaginary door of memories…like somehow as time passes the memories of those 9 days will somehow get a little foggier, a little harder to recall.

Please God, I beg You that does not happen.