Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts

Sunday, May 04, 2014

Stupid Raven

I know that my Redeemer lives
Be that as it may,
There's still this
Irritating
Black bird
Rapping on my chamber door
Incessantly reminding me
Of my loss

Grief is like an earthquake
At least mine has been
I knew it was likely to come
I thoughti'd prepared
Yet when it arrived I was still 
Shocked & overwhelmed

What's worse
Are the aftershocks
Never knowing when they'll come
Or how frequently
Or how hard each will be
Or how long they'll each last

I know you're better off
And in our Savior's arms
But you're not in my arms anymore
And I'm not in yours

I'm supposed to beon your shoulders 
In the sun
Or slung over your shoulder
Asleep, too tired& too young
Depending on your stamina and strength land patience

But this fucking raven keeps visiting me
In my chamber
"No more, never more!"
Shut up

Stupid bird
Stupid melancholy
Stupid pain

Let me go

Rain, rain, go away
Comeback again some other day
Maybe someday when it's easier to ignore you,
Work through you
See past you

Today, you're all I know

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Hardest thing I ever had to write


Merle C. Mallory, age 83 of Phoenix passed away Sunday, March 30, 2014 peacefully, surrounded by his family.


A loving husband, father and grandfather, Merle is survived by his wife of more than 50 years, Sharleen Mallory and his two sons and their families; Bart and Debbie Mallory of Surprise, AZ and their children Daniel and Emma; and Ted and Bethany Mallory of Charter Oak, IA and their children, Grace, Ellen, and Annamarie. And by  two sisters; Marlene Smith of Ann Arbor, MI and Mildred Dean of Whitmore Lake, MI,


Born February 8, 1931 in Petoskey, Michigan to Clifton Frank and Hilda Gay Mallory. He attended high school in Belleville, Michigan, where his family had moved during WWII. Merle enjoyed working for a local farmer after school.


On December 5, 1950 he went to work for American Airlines. He enlisted in the United States Marine Corps in 1951. He was stationed on the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Bennington where he was part of the Air Reconnaissance Squadron VMC-2. He achieved the rank of Sergeant as crew chief for planes patrolling the Caribbean for Soviet activity.


Upon discharge in 1953, he resumed his employment at American Airlines, a job he would continue another 45 years, working at the Detroit Metro and then Phoenix Sky Harbor Airports. While working in Detroit, he met his future wife Sharleen M. Reilly, whom he married at Angelica Lutheran Church in Allen Park Michigan on April 20, 1963.


Merle attended adult instruction classes at Angelica where he was both baptized into the Christian faith and Confirmed as a member of the Lutheran church on the same day,  May 10, 1964.

The couple moved to Phoenix, Arizona in 1968 where they would raise their two sons and become members at Christ Church Lutheran, where he attended Bible studies, often served as an usher and volunteered. Merle retired from American Airlines in 1997 and enjoyed traveling with his wife, bowling, playing cards and dominoes, and doting on his grandchildren. Merle never missed watching an Arizona Diamondbacks game on TV.

Visitation will be from 5:00-8:00 PM Thursday, April 3, 2014 at Hansen Chapel, 8314 N. 7th Street, Phoenix, AZ 85020. Memorial service will be at 6:30 PM Friday, April 4, 2014 at Christ Church Lutheran, 3901 E Indian School Rd., Phoenix, AZ 85018. Interment will be at the National Memorial Cemetery of Arizona. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Christ Church Lutheran Scholarship Fund.


Other Posts & Poems about Dad and/or grief
Great way to remember both of these; P51 was one if Dad's favorite planes and Psalm 51 was his favorite psalm. #P51 #PS51 #Psalm51

Written on a plane on the inside jacket of a paperback on the way home

no words

no images

nothing
 works well enough
there's not even
 much comfort
 in the familiar
cold comfort
 when there is

heaviness

ache

 sleep is
  no escape
when what little sleep
   actually comes

better to just
 keep moving
  slowly,
  achingly
trudging on

what else is there to do?
what else is there?
what else?
what?

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Over the Hill

You always told me to be careful on the downhill
it was easier to loose your footing and slip, you said

take your time
take it easy
enjoy the view
don't be in such a hurry
its not a race

On the way up it was harder and slower
but I thought I was so strong and so tough

It made me proud
each step of the climb
I was accomplishing something

and I felt confident and safe, with you on ahead

but I was impatient
I couldn't wait to get to the top
I wanted to get to see what you could see

but when we peaked
you kept on walking
no time to stop and bask at the zenith

I lost sight of you for a minute
you below the crest on the downward slope,
me on the upward, still climbing, catching up and catching my breath

Now,
instead of seeing the dirt and rocks
and my own knees and boots,
I can see the panorama just like you promised
but I can also see you on ahead
descending descending
up where I can't be yet
but where I know I have to go

I can't enjoy the big picture
because I want to keep my eyes on you
and not lose you again
and because I see all the chasms and cliffs and crags
around you, behind you, beyond you
and right in front of you
things neither of us could see on the way up.

On the way up, I wanted to stop and rest because it was such a strain
now I want to stop and wait
because this feeling is so weak and worn and vulnerable
exhausted after so much strain on the way up,
but now we need our strength even more
we need our balance and agility more
so that we won't stumble and plummet to the bottom before we can reach it gently
but there's no stopping gravity and momentum
and time

I can see you far ahead
too far ahead
I want you up here by my side
I liked it better when you were here to catch me and to steady me
and to encourage me to keep going
to assure me that I could do this

I'd rather still be walking with you
but I can't just gallop and catch up to you
even though I want to be there to catch you and steady you

I wish you'd just stop and wait while I gradually catch up with you
but I'm scared to travel where you are

Downhill is definitely faster than uphill
but I'm not sure its as fun
the trail seems to keep slipping out from under me.

I know that the pastures and waters you're headed for offer rest and reward
but between this mountainside and there seems so hard
and while the vista seems clear, twilight is falling
and I'm losing sight of you

Just promise you'll be there waiting at home
once I finally catch up

Sunday, September 19, 2010

What's in a name?

Last week my Middle School Mascot quit after one game. She's in volleyball and it was really going to be the only football game she could come to anyway. She told her parents that it "wasn't like what she thought it would be like, she got tired and the costume was smelly." It's too bad because she did a fantastic job, very animated, really funny and engaging.

I visited with her parents a little at the Varsity game Friday night. We all agreed that it may also have had some to do with some of the personalities of the other girls on squad, on very zealous Seventh grader in particular. I reasoned that it's easier to avoid personality conflicts in basketball or volleyball than in cheerleading and I quipped that their daughter might now be able to avoid such conflicts, but that there was no escape for me.

They laughed and sympathetically asked how I could stand it, "you have three daughters at home, too, don't you? Geez, it's hard enough for us with just the one."

I told them than I didn't know whether God had used coaching cheerleading for the past 17 years as preparation for me having 3 girls or if He used parenting all girls to help make me a more patient cheer coach.

This reminded me of the name I chose for this blog. Originally I chose it as a title if and when I ever actually wrote a book about my experiences. It came from my very first year of coaching.

My wife was under a lot of stress our first year of teaching because she was asked to coach both junior high and high school cheerleading. When we went to our principal together to beg that she not have to coach both squads, he looked at me grinning and said, "I guess we'll need to find someone who could take on the junior high cheerleading... I noticed in your personnel file that you were a cheerleader in college."

Dumbfounded but dedicated to my wife, I reluctantly took on the responsibility. Little did I know what a difference that ONE season, freshman year of college would eventually  make in my life.

I hadn't intended to volunteer. At the time, I didn't feel qualified. I felt like Morgan Freeman in the Civil War epic, "Glory," when the Union Colonel, played by Matthew Broderick promoted him to Sergeant and gave him his stripes. "I'm not sure I'm wanting this," the middle-aged former grave digger confessed.

At any rate, here I was a 23 year old rookie teacher, fresh out of college, married but no kids of my own and my very first squad- a very fun, creative, enthusiastic group of Seventh and Eighth graders decided that it would be cute to nickname me "Papa Bear." It didn't really stick, they were pretty much the only squad to call me that, but it does pretty well exemplify part of my coaching philosophy. Kids need mentors, and girls need positive, appropriate (non-sexual) adult male influence. It's best if they get it from their dads, but not everybody has a stable two-parent family anymore.

 I was talking to my great friend (and former Mascot, now about 27) the other day. I stopped by his office in Denison (a bigger town near by) just to say hi. I had st picked up a prescription at the pharmacy across the street. By coincidence, I had come to Denison during their Homecoming parade. They're a bigger school with Freshmen, JV, and Varsity cheer squads for Football, Basketball, AND Wresting.

He was impressed by the stunts they performed in the parade and how sharp and synchronized they were. Whereas it was a struggle for me to manage to get a whole six girls to agree to cheer for football season this year and it's a struggle to get them to practice even once a week because of jobs and illnesses. One or my veterans attends Volleyball practice every night. Another one is a candidate for Homecoming Queen and felt like she had to make appointments at a tanning booth during practice.

We talked about my "blue" personality as compared to the need for disciplined cheerleaders to aspire toward greater excellence, he seemed to wonder out loud if at some unconscious level, kids who needed mentoring from someone as patient and tolerant as me.

He said though, that it would still be nice if I could get some cheerleaders who were already more confident, driven and maybe even competitive.

He figured maybe they'd bring along the more needy ones in their momentum. But then he paused and thought some more and counseled me that, "actually, those kids who don't seem to need mentoring, need mentoring too, they just don't know it."

I guess that's always been my philosophy. Legendary UCLA Basketball Coach John Wooden believed that he was a teacher and a mentor and that building character in his players and preparing them for life was just as important as building their skills and preparing them for games.

Of course, that first squad may have just called me "Papa Bear" because of the novelty of having a guy coach junior high cheerleading. I did feel a little like Cary Grant in his 1964 movie "Father Goose." An antisocial, cynical, masculine curmudgeon alone on a Pacific island during WWII, Grant suddenly found himself thrust into a paternal role when a young teacher and her class of school-girls are stranded on the same island.

Or it could've been because I'm about 5' 10", 250 pounds with a goatee, so maybe I looked like a bear. God knows that when I get home, my wife has to put up with me being the typical man that comedians like Bill Engvall and Tim Allen joke about- like bears, all we really want is to eat, sleep, and mate.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Heres to everyone’s first heroes


Heres to everyone’s first heroes
Charter Oak-Ute NEWSpaper — Schleswig Leader, Thursday, June 14, 2007 – Page 3

I’m pretty lucky this year. At the time that you read this, I get to go to a baseball game with my dad and brother in Phoenix for Father’s Day.

Before we left on vacation, I got to do some awesome things that Dads get to do. I lay on the floor and played blocks with a two year old, I bought a five year old a flower, and I played catch with an eight year old.

I don’t know that I’m a particularly good dad by any stretch of the imagination. I’m not good at sports and I don’t think that I’d ever be able to change a transmission in a car, even though my dad made be help in do it both times that I blew out the clutch in my Chevy Nova back in high school.

But after teaching and coaching for 13 years I’ve seen a lot of kids who’s lives would’ve been drastically improved if only they had had someone to look up to and who’d take them fishing like my brother and I had.

Even though my nephew recently lobbied me to use this column to advocate the establishment of a “Kid’s Day,” because he thinks that it is so unjust that there’s a Mother’s Day and a Father’s Day but no Kid’s Day- I’d like to take some time to talk about how important dads are.

Doctor Kyle Pruett reported for the National Association of Child Care Resource & Referral Agencies on some of the important things that dads contribute to children.

Dads make great jungle gyms. This is fun for kids and it can be an important building block of intimacy and self-esteem.

Dads promote persistence. When dads play with their kids, they tend to use fewer deliberately “educational toys” than moms do, instead they incorporate whatever is around. Dads encourage problem solving, encourage kids to “stick with it” that serves kids well when they’re in school and in the workplace.

A mom is more likely to ask a child to stop doing something because, “It makes Mommy sad when you don’t listen to her.” In other words, she uses her emotional relationship with the child for leverage.

Dads are more likely to remind a child of the social implications of selfish or rude behavior. He might say, “No one’s gonna want to play with you if you keep that up?”

Sometimes the importance of dads is just plain common sense.

Children whose dads are involved in school do better in school and earn higher wages later.
Girls with dads who are close to them are less likely to become sexually active early.
Even when dads can’t afford to pay child support, being involved in their kids’ lives has a positive effect on their kids.

Recent studies by the University of Michigan reveal that dads are incredibly important for kid’s psychological and intellectual development.

According to the study, “children of highly involved fathers show increased cognitive competence, increased empathy, enhanced school performance, greater motivation to succeed, enhanced social development and self-esteem, less sex-stereotyped beliefs, stronger sexual identity and character, and more intrinsic motivation.”

It also showed that dads who spent more time with their kids could help keep their kids out of trouble, just because they spent time with them.

“Children of highly involved fathers have fewer psychological and behavioral problems, are less likely to become delinquent, and are less likely to use drugs.”

Schedule one on one time. Take them out to eat, just you and them, or take them to do something they like. If you can’t take you guy fishing or take your girl on a “daddy-date,” at least take them along some time when you have to go shopping of to the bank or whatever and use part of that time to ask them how things are going. It will let them know that you’re interested in them.

Sit with them once in a while just before bed and talk about their day. It’s just important that there are times that you turn off the TV, put down the newspaper, and give your kids your undivided attention.

Show affection. Even if older kids whine and complain about it, kids need hugs and encouraging words from their dad. But maybe you shouldn’t embarrass them too much in front of their friends.

They say that it’s important to take your kids to work. Obviously that may not always be possible or it could be a challenge at least. I can’t imagine taking one of my kids to school for an entire day of teaching.

On the other hand, there were times when my dad took us out to the air freight center at the airport. Maybe it was to run an errand of pick up a paycheck or a schedule on one of his days off. My kids beg to get to play with art supplies in my classroom on a Saturday or in the summer.
It’s a way for them to get a peek into your world and feel like they know about your life away from home.

Stay connected when you have to be away. Try to call them, or if you’re going to call your wife anyway, get the kids on the phone and talk to them a little too. It reminds them that they’re important to you.

If you know where your kids play and know a few of their friends, you’ll have more to talk about and more interesting conversations.

None of us is going to be able to be “Super Dad,” but if you just make an effort to spend more than twenty minutes a week with each of our kids, we just might change the world.


Ted Mallory lives in Charter Oak and teaches at Boyer Valley Schools in Dunlap. ‘Ted’s Column’ has appeared weekly in the Charter Oak-Ute NEWSpaper since 2002. If you’d like to see any of Ted’s editorial cartoons bigger and brighter, you can visit http://tmal.multiply.com/photos/album/2