Tales from real life |
Well, if they're not true, they oughta be! |
Mount St. Helens erupted in May and Gene was born in September. My wife and I wondered if the volcano affected his development in the womb or was merely an omen of things to come. Either way, Gene was exciting, exasperating, infuriating, and unique. He was not a slave to convention. Gene always did things his way, regardless of consequence. As a teen, he did the Seattle to Portland bicycle race in a single day - on a mountain bike. And wherever he went in life, he went fast. He loved running, riding motorcycles and driving sports cars. He lived life at a fast pace and left us too soon. Shortly after Gene started kindergarten, his teacher brought a box of Halloween decorations into the classroom and asked if anyone could guess what was inside. Gene immediately piped up with “A skeleton!” “How did you know that?” Ms. Diaz asked in surprise. “Because it says so on the box,” Gene shrugged. His teacher was surprised, but Deb and I weren’t. Gene wasn’t satisfied with waiting for us to read to him. He wanted to do it himself, and he wanted to do it now. I was proud and pleased that he was so eager to learn. He quickly caught on to the basic idea of using letters to represent the sounds that make up the words. Who knew that grade-school phonics would be so useful to me as a parent? The only down side was that Gene no longer needed to sit on my lap and have me read Dr. Seuss. No more Hop on Pop and no more Fox in Socks. He always read far above grade level, and he especially liked science fiction. I was proud of him, but I missed that time together. I bought a ColecoVision game console when the kids were little. We spent many hours together playing Frogger, Q*bert, Donkey Kong Jr, and Burgertime. Gene loved the cartoony images and the electronic bleeps and boops. He later bought his own gaming consoles and continued to enjoy video games all his life. Gene would always race through the levels as quickly as possible in order to ‘beat’ the game. I couldn’t keep up with him, so I’d carefully rack up the maximum points instead. He’d get impatient waiting for his turn and would be indignant if I got a higher score even though he was three levels ahead of me. In third grade Gene tested well enough to qualify for the Quest program. He enjoyed the more challenging curriculum and the more casual classroom atmosphere. Unfortunately, there was no Quest program in Jr. High and he began to have problems with what he saw as unnecessary homework demands. Gene could ace the tests without ever handing in a single homework assignment and that only irritated his teachers. In High School, his issues with homework got worse. He often skipped school, but still aced his tests. We had many meetings with the principal. The only solution she ever offered was to have him change schools. And she forced him to repeat classes even though he clearly demonstrated proficiency with the material. The one lesson that Gene learned was that school was just busy work and a waste of his time. As parents, we didn’t know what to do. I tried to get him to ‘go along to get along’, but Gene was the rebel without a clue. We tried punishments, we tried rewards, we took him to church, but Gene was too stubborn to give in. He didn’t get a driver’s license until he turned eighteen, because we made it conditional on getting his grades up. We went to family counseling and he sat in stone-faced silence. We got all kinds of well-meant advice on how to fix him, but it seemed the only thing we did right as parents was to not give up on him. I did Track and Cross-country in high school and so did Gene. But where I was mediocre, Gene was actually good. And it was the main thing that kept him in school. He ran a competitive time in the 800 meters, but he really liked cross-country and continued to be an avid runner all his life. Gene worked his way up to longer distances and competed in the Boston marathon in 2007. He averaged about one marathon a year and ran in dozens of shorter races as well. He once said that he planned to run a marathon in all 50 states. He logged Hawaii and Puerto Rico in his total, and was up to 14 after completing a race in South Dakota last year. He and his wife Mary traveled to Tromsø, Norway in 2018 for the Midnight Sun marathon. The race actually does take place in the midnight sun because it’s held on the summer solstice and the course crosses over the Arctic circle. I was able to add a bit of human interest by sharing that his great-great-grandmother was a Norwegian immigrant from Drammen. We weren’t surprised when Gene left high school without a diploma. He drifted aimlessly for several years, accumulated dozens of speeding tickets, and flirted with more serious trouble. He held a series of retail jobs, worked as a security guard, and even went door-to-door selling vacuum cleaners. Nothing he tried seemed to fit. In 2001 he ran out of second chances and spent his Christmas in jail. That was a low point for the entire family. Gene’s turn-around began when Debbie confided in her friend Tracy and she put Gene in touch with her brother, Terry. He gave Gene a third chance and hired him as a laborer at Grayhawk construction. Demolition seemed like a perfect fit – he could get paid to smash things up. It wasn’t smooth sailing at first, but Terry had patience with Gene, and he became a valued employee at Grayhawk for more than fifteen years. It turns out that demolition actually goes more smoothly if you don’t make a big mess. Gene showed a talent for getting his demo jobs done quickly and with less effort. That made his boss happy, and Gene felt like he was beating the system when he could work six hours and still get paid for eight. Terry told him that he needed a HS diploma to be hired, so Gene got his GED in 2002 at Bellevue Community College. They sent a letter with the results, stating that he had the highest score for the current year. They urged him to enroll in their college program and eventually, he did. Gene completed his associate degree in 2013. He then transferred to the University of Washington and received his bachelor’s degree in civil engineering in 2016. In addition to science fiction, Gene and I always shared an interest in cars and motorcycles. His first ride as a toddler was on my Yamaha XV920. He invited me out for my birthday a few years ago. We went to the LeMay car museum in Tacoma and spent half a day wandering the exhibits and talking. Gene drove and bought the tickets as a gift to me. I have arthritic knees and I had to stop from time to rest on a bench. It may have been the first time that Gene slowed to my pace and didn’t get impatient. It was one of the best days we ever spent together. Afterward, we grabbed a burger and Gene paid again. I understood that he was showing me that he’d become an adult, so I just thanked him and didn’t spoil it by trying to split the check. I don’t know if Gene realized how proud I was of the way he turned his life around. We sometimes had a prickly relationship and weren’t as close as I would have liked. That’s on both of us. I was too proud to push myself into his life and I felt that he didn’t appreciate mine. Both of us had strong opinions that we felt bound to defend. In many ways, Gene was too much like me. He didn’t socialize much and it wasn’t easy for him to make a real connection with other people. His childhood friend Kaye meant a lot to him, and he was always close to his friend Chris, but he didn’t have a wide circle of support. That was one reason why Gene’s wedding was one of the best days of my life. It was the happiest I’d ever seen him. Mary was good for him and I’ll always be glad that they got together. Gene and Mary traveled the world together, visiting several European countries and doing a grand tour of Australia. There’s a phrase, ‘dark night of the soul’, that I ponder sometimes. It comes from a poem by St John of the Cross. The poem isn’t really about depression, but that’s what the term ‘dark night’ means to me. Many of us experience that dark night. Some push through on their own, some get help, and some don’t make it out the other side. I was on anti-anxiety meds for a couple of years, but I didn’t share that with Gene. I understand why he didn’t want to share his problems with us, but I desperately wish that he had. And maybe if I’d been more open about my own experience with depression, it would have helped him to cope. Everyone keeps asking if there’s anything they can do. The answer is yes and no. It’s too late to say or do the things that might have made a difference for Gene. All we can do is move forward and try to make a difference for each other. So, in lieu of flowers, please be open with your own problems, ask for help when needed, and be generous with your time for friends and family. Gene was my son. I hope he knew how much I loved him. Longing Would that grasp could equal reach and net a heav’nly spark, wheeling round celestial poles like dew dropped in the dark. Wistful gaze with hungry mind, what wonders do await? Yearning for the vast unknown infinity of space. Terrence G. Fisher, 2023 my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is; so I say, “Gone is my glory, and all that I had hoped for from the Lord.” The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall! My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore, I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” Lamentations 3:17-24 |