At My Peak

Wait, is that Woody Allen?

Fall brings the changing of the leaves, cooler temperatures, pumpkin spice hysteria/overload and the joy of my annual physical. As I've just turned 50, and knowing that my doctor has been warning me for two years that the physical for my 50th would bring 'fun' things (colonoscopy), I wasn't looking forward to it.

Today was the day of my physical. First, I am delighted to report that there was no -scopy of any kind, rather just a referral and a sixty day window to get that done. Secondly, I can report that I am at my peak. Unfortunately, it's not my good peak so 'tis nothing to crow about.

As I sat on the exam table, scantily clad in a purple paper robe, facing my physician, he painted the following picture of my craptastic peak:

• I am at my heaviest weight ever. I won't reveal the number...yet, but it wasn't good.
• My bad cholesterol levels are the highest they've ever been.
• My good cholesterol level is heading towards ruin faster the Kardashians' sense of propriety.
• I am now approaching "Poster Boy" status for Potential Heart Attack Victim.
• On the bright side, my blood sugar levels were delightful.

As he laid all that out for me, the paper robe seemed to be getting tighter and tighter. I felt I might be turning the same shade of purple as the robe. But it wasn't the robe choking me out. It was my own shame recognition that this is all my own doing. I am at my craptastic peak because I've let myself get there. I'm the one who stopped running, something I thought would have been impossible. I'm the one who even last night at a donut place in Urban Space Vanderbilt had no problem whatsoever shoveling that pumpkin donut into his mouth. To be fair, it was delicious. I'm the one who let this happen. It's all on me. So my shame was at DefCon 1 as my good doctor went through the litany of sins that I'd committed against the temple that is my middle-aged body.

In high irony, it was a relief when he stopped that fusillade and moved on to the worst part of the exam. You know the one I'm talking about. The one that the late Joan Rivers riffed on how men really have it easy when they go to the doctor versus what women experience. She said something like this, "A man gets turned over on his stomach. He gets to pretend he's in a spy movie. 'I'll tell you nothing Nazi pig!'" For better or worse, that part of the exam was over in no time, sans a spy movie scenario.

But what is not over is the reality that I am at my craptastic peak. That's not a fun peak upon which to rest because coming down is going to be a nightmare. Usually, when climbing a peak, you nearly break yourself on the way up. It's the hike down off this one that is going to be, well, unpleasant. It's got to be done.

The climb down from Mt. Dadbod starts today.

Devoid

This is me and the blog right now.

Devoid.

That delightful adjective describes my current writing state. I feel like the well from which I write is empty and is wanting to say the least.

You would think, given all that's going on around us, that I could find something to write about. The recent U.S. presidential debate? Not sure I can add anything to the hysteria associated with it. Besides after my detour into Trumplandia's raging chasm o'hate, I'm sitting out for a little while. Life now that I'm 50? Nothing has changed, so nothing to talk about, at least for now. That'll change with my first yet to be scheduled colonoscopy fiesta. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML has already thrown down the mighty hammer of opposition on my ill-conceived idea of live blogging it. You can thank her (and the anaesthetist) now or later, it's up to you.

If nothing else, at least you know now that there's going to at least one post coming about the joys of a colonoscopy. So you have that to look forward to. In the meantime, I'm going to take comfort in this  piece of wisdom for the late American poet and writer Charles Bukowski:

"writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all"

Time is flying

TMFKATB atop a big tree stump

As I get older, the well worn adage about time flying by is all kinds of true. Mondays roll around with frightening speed and when TMFKATB's letter arrives, I think to myself, 'Wait, didn't we just correspond a day ago?' No, Copernicus, it was seven days ago. Time, my friend, is truly flying by.

It appears to be doing the same for TMFKATB. In this week's letter, he lamented the passing of time. With just under two months to go (like eight weeks), he is an old man in the mission and he's feeling it. Here's how he summed up how he's feeling about the march, or stampeding, of time:

I can't believe it, time is beginning to go even faster just to annoy me!

I just feel like there's no time to breathe! I love it though. This is the pace I love to work at it.

He's taking it in stride. I marvel in the maturity that he has gained over the course of his service in both Mexico and behind the Zion Curtain. He was always a pretty even-keeled kid, in that he wasn't one for raging outbursts or dramatics, but he's taken it to new level in these two years. He found out today that they will be taking in another missionary, making their companionship a trio. Things happen. Missionaries are not perfect (Looking for evidence? I give you my two years of missionary service) and sometimes companionships need to be changed STAT. So sometimes that means a trio. Trios are not easy to manage. But here's how TMFKATB perspective on it: It will be a fun couple of weeks of hard work.

Once again, the teacher becomes the student. My son is teaching me, reminding me of the importance of perspective and making the best of a challenging situation. I suppose it's on each of us to do exactly that in whatever life, or our own choices, deal us. Make the best of it, my friends.

Correcting

On this Memorial Day, we find ourselves firmly entrenched behind the Zion Curtain. On more than one occasion since TMFKATB began serving in the Utah Salt Lake City South Mission, we have found ourselves a mere minutes away from him. Today we are less than 30 minutes away from where he currently serves but even being this close, our communication with him was limited to our usual emails. Them's the rules, people.

In today's letter, he filled us in on his first week working with one his favorite companions again. He's training him again, this time in Zone Leader (a leadership position) role. He is really excited about this opportunity. It's not been without its challenges as he talked about some of the challenges their zone faces. It's not always easy for nineteen and twenty year olds to be 100% obedient all the time, even in the best of circumstances and a mission is no different. So he's had to learn how to, as he put it, 'correct' in a spirit of ministry, rather than throwing the hammer. That's not easy to do when your just twenty years old yourself. From the sounds of it, he's getting there.

He did use the time to remind us he's going to need a car when he gets home. He included this not so subtle reminder:

We'll see how that turns out for him.

As he closed his letter, he said it was fun to know that we were as close to him as we are today. I have to agree. It really is good to be this close to him.

Not every week is perfect

Missionary thuggery

Having served a two-year mission myself, I know that there are days and weeks of service that are far from perfect. There are frustrations and disappointments. The trick is how those days are handled and what you learn from them. If learned well, those are lessons that will serve you well the rest of your life. TMFKATB is going learning those lessons right now.

His letter this week reflected the challenges a twenty year old has when things aren't turning out exactly as you'd hoped. One of the things he's loved about his service is the chance to teach and in the last couple of weeks, those teaching chances have been few and far between. In the regimented (and rightfully so) world of a Mormon missionary, your options for working through those frustrations are limited, so you have to get creative in how you deal with them. So TMFKATB wrote that he we focusing on changing his mindset, with this quote in mind:

"We must learn to become creators of circumstances and not creatures of them." 

Not bad guidance. Not bad at all.

As I read and reread his letter, as a father and as one who has been in his shoes (albeit 30 years ago now), I tried to read between the lines to make sure I wasn't missing anything or if there was some magic bullet I could share with him. I realized he's learning these lessons for himself and when he can challenge himself to focus on being his own agent of change, I could breathe a little easier.

It didn't hurt that he also shared how a recent meal of higado (liver) drilled right through him faster than the #8 Combo Meal at Taco Hell Bell. You know that all is right in the world. That's my boy.

Seeing things differently

The real deal, not just readers anymore

"Hey Mom and Dad, my eyes are completely dilated right now. I went to have my eyes checked and luckily it's not too bad. I'm just nearsighted so the doctor got me some glasses. Oh they put anti-glare on my glasses."

And so it was, Monday, July 6th and another update from behind the Zion Curtain. Suffice to say, the news of the glasses was not the whole update but being declared nearsighted officially was a thrill for TMFKATB. I don't know why. I've been wearing glasses or contacts since the 5th grade - that's closing in on 40 years for those of you keeping score - and it's not all that great, if I'm honest.

From his letter, sounds like the last week was not as productive as past weeks so that was challenging. He did see himself stretched in terms of exercising faith and seeing the power of prayer take effect on behalf of someone they are working with. He's seeing that it's OK to ask for help when you don't have all the answers either. He's seeing things differently as he grows in his mission service.

So it was a week of learning for TMFKATB. He's still positive in his outlook and feeling great. That is a blessing for which we are so grateful. Can't stop expressing our gratitude for his recovery. He continues to teach me too as he grows from his experiences. It was a good reminder today that you can always see things differently.

Learning so much

In spite of apparently hosting 'Alien' in his gut, he's still eating well

This week's letter from TMFKATB was a bit of a breathtaker for the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and me. He got online much later than has been his pattern, which was a bit of a clue for us. While on our respective devices, we read the letter together and we both drew in a couple of deep breaths as we got into the meat of his weekly missive.

In short, his new companion who had only been in the mission field less than two weeks, opted, quite abruptly, to go home. It was a bit of a punch in the gut as TMFKATB felt like things were going quite well. Suffice to say, it made for a crazy week and our boy is now in the mission office for a few days, awaiting a new assignment. Not only was there this challenging situation, apparently 'Alien' which is uncomfortably ensconced somewhere in his gut, is making life unpleasant. All this served to take our breath away.

The part that is simply incredible is the wisdom he is showing as a nineteen year old. It is far beyond his years. He is looking at these up-and-down moments as learning experiences. He said, "I have seen so many trials with companions, health and a whole bunch of stuff but it has made me grow so much. All is well. I'm learning so much." He talked openly about placing his trust in God and how, in spite of it all, happy he is. That happy came through and gave us a great deal of comfort as we read his letter time and again.

It's not an easy thing to find the happy, or the good, in challenging situations. My boy reminded me today how soothing the balm of goodness is when you find it. He has found it in dedicating himself to the service of others right now and is willing to look beyond some really tough things to find the good. It seems to me that the lesson is that there is always something good to be had, or learned, in even the most challenging of situations. He says he's learning so much. He's teaching too. I'm glad I learned something today too.

Still a player

Still a player (mural on the wall of a local gym)

Since I'm back home and not holed up in a conference room, I'm back on schedule, posting updates from TMFKATB in a more timely manner. Today's letter was what has become typical of our missionary son - positive attitude and some slyly funny stuff.

He was most excited to report that he's got a "super humble" and "super happy" new companion. For a brand-new missionary, he's older (24, which is halfway to dead by 19 year old standards). He wants to work and it looks like they are getting along well. He lamented some of the challenges of constantly being rejected by the people and figuring out how to grow from the rejection. In the middle of that, he tossed in a non-sequitir about how he had recently cut his own hair. For a split second, I couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't the source of some of the rejection. He talked about some difficulties with a Blister sister missionary. It's challenges like that that are helping him to grow and how to try and get people to make the best of trying circumstances.

He mentioned that the pills he got from the doctor to quell his gastrointestinal drama may not be doing the trick. He deftly avoided any further questions about that but we're not freaking out. He's never been one to not let us know when he's really sick. Once again, we were at peace as we went back and forth with him too. He's got this.

Like the insane mural of NBA players on the side of a gym in southernmost Mexico, he's still a player.

Six months out and not a dull moment yet

Fresh mango with salt and chili - his favorite snack

Tomorrow may be St. Patrick's Day but for us it will make for something a bit more significant. The 17th marks TMFKATB's six month as a missionary. This means that, unbelievably, a quarter of his two year service is now complete, but who's counting? You would think that time would be crawling for us, not having him around. It's been quite the opposite actually. I'm amazed it's already been six months. For us, each of his weekly updates during the past six months has been anything but dull. Today's letter was no different.

He first sent me a quick response to my weekly letter that had this cryptic comment: btw i'm companionless now. Wait...what? In life as a Mormon missionary, you are NEVER without a companion. Clearly, this demanded an explanation. His family letter clarified his cryptic comment. Without divulging a lot of details, the companion he was training has become seriously ill and is now getting appropriate care. This did send them back to the 'green room' clinica for a couple of days before it was clear this young man would need additional medical attention. Based on what TMFKATB shared with us, it's been quite an experience dealing with the situation and it's allowed him to learn some additional lessons about the challenges we are dealt in life. Suffice to say, the last several weeks have given him ample opportunity to learn.

In spite of it all, he was able to drive home just how good he has it food-wise. First, the picture. That's a fresh mango, seasoned with salt and chili. He says it's his favorite snack. And then to burnish the point, he shared the following:

so i didn't take a pic but i ate a delicious torta on the street this week. salchicha, chorizo, jamon and i have no idea what else. it was awesome. they put mayonaise on everything here and i'm starting to love it. the mayo is with lime so it is delicious. i think it's gonna take me lots of time to get used to food in the usa. i also ate caldo de pata. it was gross. its like a soup tradition here. its the hoof of a cow and you eat the soup and then suck all the tendons off the hoof and the skin. it was weird. the soup had good flavor but the hoof was gross.

Not the caldo he ate, but you get the idea

I'm going to take the fact that he has no qualms about eating street food whose ingredients are unknown and that the only thing he's called 'gross' in six months is the hoof of a cow. Truly he is his father's son. May the iron stomach chain never be broken!