September 11, 2001: A Remembrance (Fifteen Years Later)

The catastrophic events of September 11, 2001 will stay with me forever. It was not necessarily the day the world changed, but for my generation, it was the day our world changed. The United States was fully drawn into the fight against global terrorism and Radical Islam. Of course, even a cursory glance at the prior twenty years' history in the Middle East shows America and other Western powers had been heavily involved already, but most of us remained ignorant to that until 9-11.

The sun is shining and the skies are clear, a warm and mild near-Autumn day as I'm typing this. The weather on that Tuesday was much the same; I remember sitting at the computer at my parents' house when my Mom called me from work and told me to turn the television on... trite as this may sound, the scenes of the first plane striking the World Trade Center was surreal. Could this really be happening? We stayed on the phone for awhile and kept watching, and then a second plane hit. What the hell was going on?  

The rest of my morning at home is a bit blurry now until my twenty minute drive to Grand Valley State University. The local hard rock station, 94.5 WKLQ, had Howard Stern on in the mornings. On that morning, the perverse shock jock turned into an empathetic, serious journalist who many politicians and public figures called to be heard by the masses. His studios were within eye-shot of the Twin Towers and he was on the front lines of what soon was discovered to be a declaration of war against the USA and all of Western Culture.

I didn't know my Shakespeare class was cancelled until I arrived, so I lingered on an unusually subdued campus for awhile. At 19 and in college, the world had seemed so hopeful, with so much promise. Osama Bin Laden's attack shattered a lot of illusions for kids my age and younger. This was the first time we'd really heard of Al Qaeda or the Taliban, though they'd been growing in force for decades on the other side of the world.

I remember receiving e-mails from two friends in the military - one in the Navy and the other studying to become a Naval officer at the Virginia Military Institute. Both were okay but were understandably on high alert, and that communications from them could / would be limited until further notice. I was just glad my friends were unharmed.

I went to Jumpin' Java that evening, driving by Dewey Hill and seeing Grand Haven's beautiful waterfront looking so peaceful, a gorgeous sunset happening, as if nothing had changed. I was the only customer but didn't stay long. I went home to be with my family and we watched President Bush address the nation. I still believe on that evening, he did a magnificent job communicating what was happening and what the immediate plans were. Public speaking was normally not his strong suit but on that night, he shone.  

I'm not going to debate the rights and wrongs of how President Bush and his team handled the war in the ensuing months and years. It would be a disservice to the 2,996 who died that day, and the tens of thousands whose lives were shattered. I wish people remembered the rise in patriotism shown in the months following, how there was a general feeling of unity in my community and across the nation. As of 9-11-16, our nation seems at its most socially and politically divided, more so than any time since the Vietnam era. We forget we have much more in common than we think.

My parents remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when President Kennedy was assassinated and I suspect the events of 9-11-01 will be the same for folks my age. My kids weren't even alive yet, so to them, it's literally history. In my mind's eye, much of it remains fresh and vivid.   On that particular day and in the immediate aftermath, America was at its finest.

One in Four

My wife suffered a miscarriage last fall. Last week - the first full week of June, 2016 - is when our baby would've been born. It's been an emotionally tough time lately.

We only had our baby for a week; we found out she was pregnant and she lost the baby just over a week later. It may not seem like much to some and it certainly wasn't a long time. But something we created, a human life, existed on this planet. Some people around us may have forgotten, and others may not want to bring it up because it's a sad and uncomfortable subject.

I firmly believe life begins at the moment of conception. This has nothing to do with the Catholic Church telling me so, but it is one of the many reasons I belong to the Church. It has to do with morals, a conscious belief that just because something hasn't taken its first independent breath doesn't mean a life doesn't exist. It absolutely does.

The pregnancy was a surprise, unplanned but not unwelcome... after the initial shock wore off. At first I was terrified and she was quite nervous, too. Our family & friends were supportive and the kids looked forward to it. We assured them that the love we had for them would not be affected by a new baby. We even posted a picture with our shoes and birth dates along with a pair of little tiny shoes drawn in chalk with the expected arrival date.

She knew something was wrong the next week and we spent a lot of time in the hospital. On the Friday when it was confirmed, when she called me at work to tell me the miscarriage had really happened, I rushed home from work and we spent a tear-filled afternoon holding each other, not saying much but comforting one another. It was one of the saddest, emotionally painful days of my life. My wife - a woman who knew from an early age she was meant to have kids and is the best Mom in the world to the ones we have - was robbed of another chance.

In the aftermath, the weeks immediately following, we were both on edge and communication between us was almost nil. Finally we confessed that we both held ourselves to blame, that there must've been something wrong with ourselves and our DNA, but that wasn't really the case. A miscarriage is nature's way of saying something was wrong and the baby wasn't meant to be and we know that. We also know that a soul, despite being unborn, is in Heaven and we both hope to meet her one day (yes, we both felt it would've been a little girl).

For a few weeks afterward I said hello to her out there in the sky as I was driving to work. I occasionally still do when I'm driving, or sitting out on the deck, or the thought of last Fall comes to mind... it's tough. But I wouldn't want to forget it, either.

So why am I writing about this subject? Because I need to, for me. Because we found out that one in four pregnancies end in a miscarriage. Some women may not even realize they've had one, and some have many and suffer over and over the same emotional heartbreak my wife did. I can't fathom the hurt they must feel and my heart & prayers go out to them all. We found out some women in our lives had them and never shared their story with us until we, too, had gone through it.

You may also be wondering why I'm using the term "we" here. I didn't suffer the physical loss, or the hormonal shifts afterward, or the postpartum depression. But as a man who fathered a child I'll never get to meet, it still cut me deeply, both in losing the child and seeing my wife - my soulmate - hurt like she did. I love her and when she's hurting, I'm hurting.

I'll end by saying this to those who've suffered this: you're not alone. It hurts like hell and things may never be quite the same, but you will be okay. I promise.

2015: Out like a tamed lion...

I feel like I should reflect back on another year but don't know where to begin, or if it's even relevant. Does anyone else feel the same? I mean, other than the earth taking another trip around the sun, what's changed? My household has had its share of ups & downs this year but we're probably no different from anyone else. Each person's conditions and lives are unique, true, but happiness and grief go on across the world every moment of every day.

Focusing on the negative comes easy, at least to me. My grandmother died late this fall and that was a huge loss, though not unexpected. She was 90 and in poor health for several years. Even so, she was a beloved woman whose kindness and intelligence positively impacted everyone she knew. Not a lot of us can say that about ourselves or most folks we know.

April suffered a miscarriage on an unplanned but welcome pregnancy. We'd never wanted more kids but when presented with the circumstance, it was filled with joy. The after-effects are still felt.

But through these events we had the love and support of family, friends and acquaintances in ways we hadn't expected. Folks were genuinely supportive and it made the grief and loss a bit more bearable. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, "A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature." Thank you to my friends & family who are there for me.

2015 is also the year we've recommitted ourselves to the Church, to our Catholic faith, which has also been a source of strength during rough times and contributing factor during good times, too. Those who know me in person will tell you I'm not preachy regarding my faith, that I don't find anyone else's particular denomination or faith to be "less than" my own. I converted at age 21 for my sake, no one else's. Both kids are now involved in our parish's youth programs, April teaches Elijah's class, and I'm sponsoring my Dad in RCIA.

The biggest financial news was, of course, purchasing our first home. We'd rented for the the previous four and a half years and while having a landlord to fix little or big things that went wrong was great, owning a home is a privilege I'm extremely grateful for. The house is beautiful and we're looking forward to raising our kids and growing old here.

My kids have both grown so much physically and intellectually, being at or near the top of their respective classes in various subjects. My daughter's musicianship has blossomed and Elijah has turned out to have a passion for mathematics and numbers (something I always struggled with in school). Being their father is an honor.

I rediscovered my love and respect for my wife this year. Now before you read too much in to that, I must clarify that I've always loved and respected her. But as those who've been married or in long term relationships can attest, life can turn into a routine and a loving relationship can, for lack of a better term, coast along. Maybe it's more accurate to say 2015 is the year I've fallen for her all over again and developed a greater appreciation for her beauty, intelligence, love, and all her other qualities.

It's been a banner year for my music collection. I've acquired more than 70 vinyl records, not including the 33 1/3 and 78rpm records my grandparents gave me. Many CDs made their way into my home, too, and I've expanded my musical palette to include artists I previously wouldn't have thought (Wilco and Elvis Costello come to mind). Music has always been my passion to discuss, write about, and spend time with, so I'm incredibly thankful for what I've got.

So there's been much to celebrate this year in my household. I wish the best for you all as one year closes and another opens, full of possibility and promise. Happy New Year to us all.  

A Life Well Lived

My Grandma died on October 21, 2015.

She was 90, so it's not as if she was denied a long life; she had Alzheimer's, so the mind of a fiercely intelligent woman was all but gone, as were most of her physical abilities. She passed with family and friends by her side, so she thankfully didn't die alone.

A simple, beautiful memorial service was held last week at a small Mennonite church in Toronto. It was a comfort to see the room overflowing with people who came to pay their last respects, to honor the life of a woman who'd done so much for them. Growing up 400 miles away in a different country, I never had the opportunity to get to know my Grandma's day-to-day routines, but I always knew what a special lady she was. I just had no clue how many others felt the same way.

Agnes Mary Stewart Ford was the second of nine children and when her older brother George died in WWII, that left her as the eldest. She was one of those rare people who nearly everyone who met her liked her, and her soft-spoken nature would become a pillar of strength and respect in her large extended family.

She loved God & her family fiercely. She and my Grandpa, Fred Billedeau, were deeply involved in the church, and after he died (young, at 66 in 1993), she not only remained active, but assumed some of his duties as well. No one could quite figure out how she did it, and at times the physical strain showed, but she remained an active member of the community until forced into hospitalization, then a nursing home, in her late 80s.

Agnes was a loving Grandma; she always had words of love and encouragement, and showed an interest in what her grandchildren were up to (that, at least, is my experience). I looked forward to holiday and birthday cards, as most who knew her did, because each was picked after careful consideration for its recipient and filled with a personal, hand-written message.

She was slow to anger and rarely lost her temper and even in bad situations, by all accounts, never raised her voice (a trait I sadly did not inherit). Respect for others came naturally to her and she, in turn, earned the respect of all who knew her. Following the example set decades before by her own parents, if someone was in need, she would help in any way possible.

90 years of living cannot possibly be summed up in one short essay, so let me say this: I did not write this in mourning or looking for sympathy, but as a tribute and a meditation on how we live our lives by using her as a shining example of goodness. And that's exactly what my grandmother was: Good. As a sister, daughter, wife, mother,grandmother, aunt, friend, member of her community and the world at large, she was a good person. She's one of the few people I've met who I am certain made it directly to Heaven to be reunited with family and friends gone before her.

At the end of our own lifetimes, we should all hope to be remembered the same way.  

Loss and Grief during a difficult time...

Our beliefs and morals are shaped both by our surroundings and experiences. I have to tell you, then, that I am more certain of my pro-life stance than ever before. There's a darn good reason: my wife suffered a miscarriage this week.

From the beginning of our relationship, we've never planned on having more children (she has two from before we met). I've had the privilege of being their Dad, of helping raise a beautiful daughter and handsome son, both of whom are funny, intelligent, and kind. She's 11 and he'll be seven next month, bringing them both to the point of needing less supervision than before. It won't be too many more years before we can go on overnight trips and leave them home.

We bought our first (and hopefully last) home this Spring. It's a beautiful home and offers everything we need. However, it needs a few upgrades - new kitchen counters and backsplash, tearing up carpeting and refinishing the wood floors, and the like - and that's how we planned to spend or money for the next couple years.

Then, last week after not feeling well for a few days and exhibiting several tell-tale signs of being with child, she took a home pregnancy test... double pink lines. Pregnant. Unplanned. Shocking. Why now? How can we afford it? What do we need to do to get the house ready? Newer, larger vehicle, baby gates, diapers, daycare... Any parent out there knows these thoughts all too well.

I admit that my initial reaction involved several four-letter words and large amounts of disbelief. I wasn't sure I was happy. I wasn't sad, though, either. For the first 24 hours I had no idea how to feel. This was a new situation for me, one for which I was completely unprepared.

Then it happened: as we told close friends & family, followed by a very public announcement on Facebook, something clicked. I knew I was okay with it and even started to look forward to it. And I have to say, seeing my wife so unbelievably happy to be a Mom again cemented the deal for me. I can't put into words how great of a Mom she is - it's one of the qualities that first attracted me to her and earned my respect - and I know she'll be just as good to future children.

I don't need to put details of hospital visits and blood tests here, those are unimportant to the story. What is important is the emotions we felt this afternoon, laying in bed and weeping together, taking turns holding one another and consoling one another. A deep grief, one formed so quickly about events that took place in the course of only just over a week swept over us. A grief for the life we helped create being taken so quickly from us, months before we even had the opportunity to say, "Hello, little baby, welcome to the world. We love you!"

This brings me to the issue of abortion, of terminating a ball of tissue that will one day be a living, breathing miracle of creation. We didn't have the choice - Mother Nature chose for us, and it's a choice I'm incredibly angry at and saddened by. As the father of that future person, I can tell you that I see the issue in a whole new light. To say that it's a strictly a women's rights issue is not fully true, because it leaves 50% of the parenting team out of the equation and in the cases of the fathers who want to be Dads, I don't believe that's right.

Now, you can agree with me or disagree. It makes no difference. I realize the law is what it is and it's not likely to be changed. That said, I don't think many of those who are pro-choice have suffered this kind of loss. It's awful, and we didn't do it on purpose. To do so by one's choice will change your life forever, believe me. There's an empty space in our hearts right now. I cannot fathom how someone could choose to end a life which you have helped create. For those who are in a situation where they feel that is their best or only option, I pray for you, and I ask others to do the same.