It's Okay

It's Okay 

I've been meaning for so long to get these thoughts down, Gabrielle. I really didn't understand that it would have mattered to anyone but me all the things that go through my mind when I think about you and what you've brought into our lives. 

I guess the best place to start is at the start. The first time I met you, you were chalky white and purple at the same time. I thought I knew what being a dad was like from my time with your sister, but nothing can prepare you for driving home from the hospital with your wife in pain and two little souls in the backseat, all completely dependent upon you to get them home and for things to be okay. Being a dad to twins was exhausting. It wasn't until you got older that YOU made yourself known.

You probably don't remember, but at one time, you and your brother had the tightest, unspoken, psychic-kind of bond. You used to play with him. You interpreted for him. You named him, "Drews". For a long time you were the Andrew expert in the house. I think that says a lot for how things have gone all of these years. That love and caring you had for each other, and your devotion to your brother are who you are. You can't help but be the kind of person who loves other people, who wants to protect them, and it's in other people that you get lost. I never understood until later, how much of yourself you gave to your brother and when Andrew became Drews, how little you got in return. In many ways you were the middle kid. Whitney was off doing big girl things, Andrew needed constant attention and worry. You kept things going. 

I think the first time I even thought about it was at our first daddy/daughter dance. I just remember dancing with you and noticing how intently you gazed at me and how happy you looked. In that moment, it dawned on me that you almost never got something just for you. I didn't understand until then how you might want and need my attention and how "your" time was always "you and Drews'" time. I really loved you how invited me to the dance, and how it became our thing, until it wasn't anymore. Over the years, I've learned to try to notice when things happen, and to try to cherish them in the moment. I'm not always successful, but let me share some of the things I've watched and loved over the years.

I've loved watching all of the hijinks/monkey shines/all-around foolishness you do on a daily basis. You used to walk in circles around and around and around because you had such boundless energy. You told Whitney, "I'll kick your ass right now" when you were about 6 and I'd warned her to stop messing with you and that when you got bigger you were going to handle her. You cut your own hair. You stuck gum in your hair. All these crazy things you did. I guess you craved attention, but in my mind, you were just being our crazy, fearless, funny-as-hell Gabby. You once practically pulled an old lady off her steps when you went to get Andrew's Halloween candy for him (because he wouldn't) and 1, because you were going to get him that candy bar, and 2, because she wasn't going to give it to you and you were getting that candy. If anyone was going to do some nonsense in the house, it was probably going to be you. I know Whitney's watched you amazed and bemused at the sheer audacity.

I've loved watching you play soccer. I don't think you'll ever know how much I loved every minute of watching you play. I would stand apart from the other parents with my headphones on listening to my Gabby soundtrack and watch you sprint (ha ha, right. I mean somewhat jog") down the pitch. It was so funny watching you love to play while at the same time hate to run. I love that about you. In most everything you've ever done, you've done it exactly the way you want to do it. At any rate, you used to do this thing, where you'd be on the wing and someone would slot a nicely weighted pass onside you and you'd give the ball this littlest of flicks with your left foot and then it was off to the races.... the shortest race, but still a race. You were once being closed down, and you sent the on the right and passed the defender on the left. You didn't score, but it was beautiful. You played with such joy when you weren't thinking, just in the moment. I feel like I can remember every game you ever played. I feel like I lived an extra lifetime watching you run and kick (and duck away from a perfectly placed corner kick). That was a life well-lived.

I don't have the time or emotional capacity to relay everything I love about you, Gabby. Watching you take care of your siblings, watching you fight with your siblings, watching you be so sweet to your mom, while also being the biggest pain the in ass, it's all been amazing. You're so much older now, so smart (I really mean that) and so beautiful. You're also so exasperating, so full of potential, and yet so committed to doing it your own way. I wish I could say that you remind me of me, but you're not like me. You're a lot like my sister. She's always been the coolest in the room no matter what room she was in. She's also got a big heart, just like you.

I just want you to know that I love you so much. It's okay. It's okay that you're not where you want to be in life right now. It's okay that you don't even know what that is. It's okay that you're consistently a pain the ass with the whole, "I don't know" thing. You've got time, but I would hope that you would do it better than I've done it. 

I've spent way too much time working, worrying, and being stubborn about doing everything the hard way. I did miss a lot of time we can't get back working and keeping myself busy with everything I thought I had to do keep the family going. But I've also spent A LOT of time watching you kids, and living in the moments while laughing at the nonsense. I honestly don't know anyone else who would be as funny having just had a brick land on her head. I worry about you, that you feel unfulfilled, too lazy, maybe unnoticed, maybe not important. Your father watches everything you do, and though I make constant fun of you, I do stand in amazement at the beautiful woman you've become. 

ALSO, while you're a lot like your aunt Stephanie in many ways, you and I do share a sense of humor. I think I like that the best. Whitney is bookish and sarcastic like me, but you've got this great self-deprecating sense of humor and you're not afraid to show your ass (as well as the rest of you), which I really appreciate (but really, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON) because life is nothing if you can't laugh at it. 

I love you so much. It is okay. You don't need to close yourself off as if you don't care. We both know you do. You just need to stay amazing... and maybe stop doing dumb shit because, "I don't know". I look forward to watching what you do next, just like I used to wait and wait and wait for just one more goal, one more flick forward, and one more perfectly crossed ball from your left-foot.

Whitney

The first time I saw you was amazing. I was a college student, a new husband and all of a sudden my life was changed forever. Before you (and before your mother), I didn't have a lot of direction other than a vague notion that I would get out of school and get some job. Sitting there watching your heart beat and watching you repeatedly run your huge head into your mom's stomach transformed me from a guy into a father. All at once there was someone that I was responsible for, someone who would depend upon on me completely, also someone who was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Watching you grow has been amazing. We've had all of this time, but it's passed so quickly. It was just yesterday that you and I were spending Friday afternoons together going to McDonalds and a kids movie for valuable father/daughter time while your mom worked. Moments ago I pushed you on the swing at the little park by our tiny home. Just instants have passed since you cared for me as I recovered from an ankle surgery. I just took a picture of you and Rachel on your bike. You just smacked your sister. I just yelled at you because your bedroom is a mess (actually that did just happen). I guess my point is that almost eighteen years have passed in the blink of an eye. It's been amazing.

There is no way to sum up eighteen years so I'd like to pass along some of my favorite quotes and ideas. So, if I can play Polonius to your Laertes...

"This above all: to thine own self be true" -  Shakespeare (To me this is one of the most important things to ever take to heart).

"Hold yourself to a higher standard than anyone else expects of you. Never excuse yourself." - Henry Ward Beecher

"Why? Because I said so. How do I know? Because I know." - Jerry Sanchez

"Bring da ruckus" - Wu-Tang Clan

"Whatever? It's not whatever. It's whatever the f@*k I Say!" - Me

"Don't panic" - Douglas Adams

I just wanted to say thank you for being amazing. You have the ability to make me as quickly angry as anyone on the planet not named Brenda Sanchez, but you also make me laugh. I'm so glad that you not only inherited my tendency towards anger (which is not good), but my sarcastic, slightly twisted sense of humor. You're smart and beautiful and have every ability to achieve all of your dreams and goals. Thank you for making me laugh and for providing focus to my life. Being your dad has been my life's greatest adventure.

Whitney,

Life is an adventure so be adventurous.

Forgive yourself.

Remember that we're all here together so take care of others.

Find some peace and strength in a relationship with your God. You were called, and will always be a child of God.

Only give your heart to another who loves and respects you as much your parents do each other.

Congratulations, whitterbug.

You're mom and I are proud of you and we love you very much. We will always think of you as our baby.

Meeting you was amazing. You've been amazing. Go be amazing.

What I'ma 'bout

Just got back from my first run in a long, long time. For the last six or seven years, each time I run I can scarcely walk for about a week afterwards. I've always chalked it up to age, getting fat and generally being in a similar physical condition to Jabba the Hutt. It's been really depressing because I absolutely love to run. I've never been a particularly good runner, but there's something about it that reminds me of me. I think it's the solitude, physical effort, the music and the sense that for once in my day I'm truly in the moment, not worrying about the kids, sex, lack of sex, work, money, etc. Plus, it fucking hurts, which I don't mind.

I started running in eighth grade after I got tired of being the fat kid. I don't know that I really minded being a chubby kid, but I really wanted to be able to handle my business with the ladies. Being a thoroughly unconfident kid, there was no way I had the moxy to get through the terror of approaching a girl, nor was little bookworm nerdboy going to be able to convince some chick to take her clothes off 'cause I was just so cool. It was going to take something transformative to become a chick magnet and the first step was losing weight. That meant working out and mostly it meant tubby had to put in some serious road work. Those of you that know me, understand that this is probably the first in a long series of life decisions that began with the idea that it would help me with the opposite sex.

At any rate, I quickly found that I loved running. Again, I'm not a particularly athletic guy, nor am I anything near agile. On my best day I can pass for coordinated, but even back in the Summer before 9th grade, I knew I could run.

Actually, I'm such a non-athlete that I can remember almost every detail of my top athletic accomplishments. I remember one Sunday in the park probably in '85. We were playing basketball on the park on Avenue H near Commanche street in good ol' Dodge City. I think it was me, Bubbles, maybe my li'l bro, and a bunch of East Side kids. I can't dribble a lick, but there was one play where I took a guy off the dribble from the wing, drove into lane from he right, elevated and executed the perfect Vinnie Johnson up an under move to score. I didn't even like the Pistons, but that move was a perfect Microwave impersonation.

The weekend of my wedding, I was playing in the Heskett Center at Wichita State and yes, it was another fast break that I was trying to lead. I got picked up at the top of the key; went airborne; showed the ball (to my li'l bro's friend Dominic, I think); tucked it back to avoid the block attempt; stretched out again and did the perfect Magic Johnson finger roll. Actually, it was a George Gervin finger roll, but the full extension and ball handling were all Magic.

There are a couple more examples of my awesome basketball skills, such as the between the legs, look-away assist at Sedgwick County, the time my team ran the court for about an hour at Linwood Park (serious games being played there) and the time I blocked Barry Sanders' shit at the Heskett, but that's about it. Literally, that's about it for athletic achievement. Not much to talk about (ironic, I know), but the point is, that most times I've run I've felt something like each of those times. Usually, it's because at every so often in a run I'm able to achieve the perfect synthesis of exertion, exhaustion and that little bit of adrenaline you get when the perfect part of a song plays. Being tired as hell then being able to push past it while listening to the intro to Faint by Link Park is sublime perfection.

To me running is like telling a woman you love her for the first time, inadvertently, though you mean it. It's writing the perfect SQL query, that nobody else will ever know about. It's lusts first kiss. Running is the ending to The Usual Suspects the first time you see that movie. It's watching your kids be polite in public, even though they're often little shits at home. It's like making love to the right woman. Running can be as good as the last week of your two weeks notice at a job you hate. It's just really, really good.

Anyway, I got to run again, because I went to the doctor and got some orthopedic inserts and it felt great. We'll see what tomorrow brings, but in the meantime, I got to run.

Soundtrack for tonight's run:
Aly & AJ - Chemicals React (Gay)
Cascada - Evacuate the Dancefloor (Gay)
Cause and Effect - You Think You Know Her
DMX - X Gon' Give It To Ya
Dropkick Murphy's - State of Massachusetts
Franz Ferdinand - Michael (Go Home Productions Remix)
Gorillaz - Feel Good Inc.
Grand Duchy - Strange Days
The Hold Steady - Stay Positive
The Rifles - The Great Escape
Kanye West - Stronger
Clint Mansell - Lux Aterna
Zombina and the Skeletones - The Count of Five

So there

For Mom and Veronica

My mother's sister is dying. I just got the news from mom, who's obviously, horribly upset. I can't even imagine what she's feeling right now. Understand, that I don't really know my aunt. To me, she's always been this quirky woman who lives far away in California. I saw her maybe once a decade when she and her family would come to visit us in good ol' Dodge City, KS. I remember that she liked to laugh, which is good because she was (I already think of her in the past tense, though, as I understand, she's not quite passed on yet) married to a real funny-assed, cool guy. When I was a kid, I used to like to just sit and listen to my parents talk to Veronica and her husband 'cause the stories of the old times were always nonsensical and funny. However, when mom called, my first thoughts weren't sadness for my aunt. As I said, I hardly knew her in anything other than a superficial way. I always kind of liked her, but I didn't really know her.

People always say that the worst thing you can experience is to outlive one's child (something both sets of my grandparents understand now), or to lose a parent, or a spouse or basically anyone in your family. I expect that it is, but as I try to deal with my feelings, I've come to understand that there's got to be something truly complicated, wonderful and twisted about one's relationship with a sibling. I'm trying to process what my feelings should be and I keep coming up with this near apathy and resulting guilt. However, I know my grandparents and my mother are despondent. Trying to understand what mom's feeling brings to mind the nature of our relationships with our brothers and sisters.

To me, no one knows us like our siblings do. The way I see it, by the time we're older, not necessarily mature, we've already developed the side of our personalities that we show to everyone else. Only our brothers and sisters have known us all our lives, even when we were spoiled, selfish, and petty, before we learned that you're not supposed to act like a little asshole all the time, especially not in public. Who else have you let see you do something truly evil? Who else have you hurt like you've hurt your brothers and sisters? I can't think of anyone I'd ever make lay on the ground so I could jump a bike over... other than my little brother. I can't imagine locking anyone out of my house in her underwear... other than my little sister. There's no one in the world who, if they flipped over their bike handlebars, could make me laugh like I did when my cousin/uncle/brother (it's complicated) did. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Our siblings do. My brother and sister know things about me that even my parents don't know, thank God. They've usually, graciously, kept the skeletons in our shared closet until the Sanchez status of limitations have run out.

Siblings are those who:

• Have seen us at our worse
• Know where the bodies are buried
• We sometimes can't stand to be around (maybe it's just me, but I doubt it)
• Drive us batshit crazy
• We don't talk to all that often
• Know all of our weaknesses
• We can relate to in a truly unique, timeless way

I can go months without talking to one of my siblings and when we finally do talk, it's like we were just yesterday, watching t.v. in the front room together; fighting, laughing, yelling and NOT doing our chores. Losing any one of these people would feel the loss of a limb, if not a vital piece of my soul. Thinking of that is how I can relate to what my mom's going through. That's why I feel like crying and that's how I can even come close to feeling her despair. Here's hoping God welcomes my aunt home and envelopes her in all the love and warmth in the universe. Maybe, if my aunt thinks of it, she can arrange that my mom can share in that warmth. If it's possible, I'm sure she will.