Eastern Standard Blog

As I get ready to head to Philly again for our bi-annual disaster recovery test, I cannot help but to think of the fictional Jem’Hadar.

“I am First Omet’iklan, and I am dead. As of this moment, we are all dead. We go into battle to reclaim our lives. This we do gladly, for we are Jem’Hadar. Remember, victory is life.”

- Omet’iklan

On January 6th my aunt Cheryl lost her 7 year fight against cancer. This meant a short notice trip to Iowa, which was very emotional for me. It’s a very difficult situation when someone has been fighting and suffering for so long. She was survived by her husband of 27 years and 4 daughters (ages 9 – 24). The pastor said something which really stuck in my head, which was how this death would really impact those of us who knew her, not only in our sadness and grief but in causing us to think about and examine our own lives.

I’ve been married for 8 years this May. I cannot imagine that she would not be there.
I’ve been a father for 2.5 years. I cannot imagine that I would not be there for my daughter.

The last funeral I went to was for my cousin Jeremy, like my brother Chris, he killed himself. We all lived together for awhile, two families under one roof. The four of us, Chris, Jeremy and his sister Ryan played with each other and had a lot of fun as kids. I was the oldest, the ring leader. A few days before my mother called me and asked me if I would talk to Jeremy, he was having lots of emotional ups and downs and it might be a good idea for me to speak with him. Of course, I semi-lied to my mother, I would talk to him. My father called a few days after that to tell me they had found him dead. And I just shut down. I had selfishly chosen not to get involved, and now he was dead. I could hardly look at his parents or his sister. At the grave side Ryan gave a eulogy and said something to the effect that “A few days ago I was a sister, and today I am just Ryan.” I know that it’s foolish of me to think that one way or another my inaction was a factor in the outcome, but I think about it often. I always wonder WHAT IF?

I saw Cheryl last when we went to Iowa over Thanksgiving. I knew previously from my cousin pretty much the full extent of the situation, and was warned by my mother that her appearance was radically different. We had some superficial chit-chat, I listened to her talk about things which I could not relate to, and hoped that I would never understand. I felt bad for her family, sad. When it was time to leave, she said to me “Well, if I don’t see you again, have a Merry Christmas.” It hung there like an anvil improbably suspended in mid-air. I’m still not sure of the context she meant since we were in town for a few days, did she mean like again this trip or again again? Again, I semi-lied easily “I think we are going to stop by tomorrow.” Apart from my own discomfort with the situation, I also did not want to feel like I was interjecting or interrupting the family time.

It still amazes me how much I am enjoying the Winter this year. It would have been a shame to spend it in Arizona I think. It reminds me that life can be hard, cold. It can be an unforgiving juggernaut. But as the days slowly get longer, and the sun hangs in the sky more and more each day things start to warm and grow again. To be enjoyed for the time they are here, until it is time to leave…

Holy shit! All I can say, is that as a born and raised Iowan, is that I have never been more proud of my home state!!!