I Am Jack's Grateful Spawn

What I have to say about my Dad is more than I could fit into a status update. Growing up, my favorite memories as a child were with my father. As a kid, my Dad worked nights as chef in Santa Monica, and rather than spend his afternoons resting, he would take me out on adventures. We spent countless afternoons fishing at the Santa Monica Pier, eating Pac-Man popsicles at Griffith Park and going to the movies. Those afternoons are some of the happiest moments of my life. My Dad was my best friend and my hero. When my Mom decided we were moving to Connecticut, I was devastated to learn that my Dad wouldn't be joining us until a few months later. I was heart-broken and lonely in a place where I didn't know anyone. I vividly remember that winter afternoon, when I saw my Dad's green Ford pulling up that driveway on Cedar Lane. I ran out in the snow and hugged him and never wanted to let him go. My Dad worked for the United Methodist Church in New Canaan for 16 years. Every single member of our congregation loved him and were sad to see him go. He now works at a retirement facility and it makes me so proud to visit him and have residents come up to me and tell me what a wonderful man he is. My father is a quiet man and seldom has much to say, but he is the funniest person I have ever met. Even though I was a terror growing up, he never struck me, he never cursed and I've never seen him have more than a couple glasses of white wine in my life. I almost lost him a couple years ago and we had another health scare a couple months back, but I'm fortunate to still have him around for a little while longer. When I told him about my impending relocation, all he said was "I understand". And those two words were the greatest vote of confidence I could receive. It saddens me that we're not as close as we once were, but that's life. Dad, you will always be my hero and I'll always remember every single piece of advice you've ever given me. If I can live my life and be a fraction of the great man that you are, I'll known I've done well. I love you with all my heart and I will miss you dearly.

I Am Jack's Desire To Escape.

The wind was particularly strong yesterday. As I was walking, at that moment I wished I were able to run with it, be able to jump and have the momentum of the wind carry me away. Just glide and soar away from it all. Nowhere in particular. Just. Not. Here. Nothing seems to have been going right for me lately and it's been getting harder and harder to get out of bed in the morning. I don't really have anyone to confide in on everything that's been going on, but it's something I've gotten used to. I've always been a loner, and have become accustomed to those closest to me walking out of my life. And it's those experiences that make me want to abandon everything and forge my own path with new surroundings. Far away from here.

I Am Jack's Inspired Remembrance.

Ten years later. It seems like only yesterday those inhuman attacks occurred and I can still remember everything so vividly and clear. I was awoken by a frantic telephone call from my Mom at 630am. "New York is under attack!", she was screaming. Being half-asleep, I thought that this must be some weird nightmare. "Turn on the TV! It's all over the news!", she insisted. I shot out of bed and fumbled for the remote. My heart immediately sank as the warm glow of the television displayed the images of tragedy. Moments later, before my very eyes and of millions across the world, the first tower fell. For days and weeks afterwards, I was glued to watching all the major news channels in hopes that any survivors might be found. Praying and pleading, but with each passing day without positive news, I felt as if all hope was gone.

For weeks, I would stay awake until the early morning hours and those were some of the loneliest times I had ever felt. I've never been the type to display emotion, but the heartbreak would swell up all at once and I would find myself in tears. Even as I type this piece now, I do so misty-eyed. I felt rage, sadness and pain at the same time. Raised in a Connecticut suburb, Manhattan was only an hour train ride away. I felt as if someone had come into my backyard and committed this atrocity. I had dinner at the Window of the World with loved ones. I had walked around on the observation deck of the south tower and I cherish having videotaped that moment. The towers were the first landmark I would see flying back into New York. They were a reassuring comfort that let me know I was back home. It still feels a bit surreal, flying back into New York post-9/11. The skyline I had know my entire life has been forever destroyed. For me, the World Trade Center weren't just a set of buildings or an architectural marvel. The were a symbol that embodied a city.

In the wake of tragedy, I saw the best that the human spirit had to offer. I was overwhelmed with love and pride for the brave men and women of the New York Fire Department, the New York Police Department and the New York Port Authority. For those whom raced into the face of danger when the planes struck. For those that made the ultimate sacrifice and gave their lives, so others could survive. For the volunteers that tirelessly remained for weeks afterwards, in search of possible survivors. For every individual that gave blood, shelter and supplies. For the courageous men and women that have served abroad and continue to do so today. For every single American that stood united in the aftermath of unspeakable horror. Though severely wounded, we demonstrated that the American spirit would not be broken. Regardless of geographic location, or citizenship status, or race, or religion or political party, we all stood tall. We all felt love and compassion. We all had the pride of the red, white and blue in our veins. We were all Americans. We were all New Yorkers.

While we may not all agree on the reasons as to why we're there, during today's remembrances and tributes,  let us not forget and appreciate the sacrifices being made by the brave men and women that continuously put their lives in danger by serving this great land of hours. The heinous acts of September 11th, 2001 have forever altered the way we live our lives. Ten years ago, we didn't know about terror alert levels or have to take our shoes off at the airport. Ten years ago, we would've never thought that anything like this could happen on American soil. Ten years ago, evil did not have a name or a face. This year may have brought a long-sought form of closure with the assassination of the monster that masterminded the attacks, but it will never compensate for the innocence and lives lost. The best way to honor those that died on September 11th, 2001, is to live your life with the love and conviction you had on September 12th, 2001. I will never be the same after the events of that day and I will never forget.

I Am Jack's Complete Lack Of Surprise.

Things have now reached the point, where I feel as if I need a lifeline. It dawned on me yesterday at work when I helped an older woman, in her 60 sixties or so. As I do with any customer I encounter at work, I said “Thank you and have a nice day.” She replied with “Any day on the right side of the green grass is a good day” and smiled at me. I forced myself to smile back and as soon as she left, I excused myself to the restroom. Sitting there in the stall, I quietly wept to myself. I cried, because at that moment I realized I don’t feel that way at all. I’d rather go to sleep and never wake up, than to deal with the pain every new morning. I guess it’s all been building to it, but it never dawned on me how badly I’ve been handling it. My emotions have spiraled out of control and all I feel is depression. I haven’t been able to eat and each time I try, it comes right back up. I’ve barely been able to sleep and the few times I do, I never want to wake up again. Last night I had a dream where I was suffering severe vertigo and it jolted me awake, but that sense of disorientation was still there. I got out of bed to go splash water on my face and I couldn’t make it. As I lay there staring at the ceiling, I started to wonder what the point of anything really is anymore. Everyday is just the same. Mundane routine followed by more mundane routine, without an ounce of happiness. Why bother?

I Am Jack's Broken Heart.

I wish Lacuna, Inc. really existed.

I Am Jack's Medulla Oblongata.

I wrote this on 12/31/08 and it's just the uplifting reminder I needed right now. Perhaps another sabbatical is in order.

"Remember Red, Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."

- Andy Dufresne, "The Shawshank Redemption"

I've never been a proponent of New Year's Resolutions. Why must we look to the first day of a new year to make a change? It's just another day on a calendar. We can make change anytime of year, whenever we feel it's needed. The same applies to the idea of generosity and giving to others. Helping others during the holidays is fine and dandy but some of these unfortunate souls need a hand for more than a night or a couple of cold weeks in December. I don't want to come across as having a "holier-than-thou" attitude because that's not my intention. It's just that sometimes we seem so disconnected, that we lose sight of the little things. Change and good will can happen at time. My change began on December 8th, 2008, 1:35pm PST. That's the moment that I took grasp of my life. From the second the plane left the ground, I made the decision to become the decent and centered human being I once was and am capable of becoming once again. The journey will not be an easy one, but I'm making the effort. I have the sense of feeling that I had long-since forgotten. Hope. It's a feeling that has been overwhelming me as of late. Hope for the achievement of true happiness. Hope for a beter livelihood. Hope for something more substantial. Hope.

Three days ago, I was sitting in my church pew and listening to that morning's Liturgist. As it happened, the sermon that morning was centered around Hope. The weather that weekend was cloudy and morose, reflecting my mood from a few weeks prior. As I listened intently, taking those words of never losing hope to heart, something happened. At that instant, the clouds outside parted and a single ray of sunlight shone through the stained-glass windows, and beamed directly onto me. As my eyes watered and I fought back tears, at that moment I felt absolute Love and Hope. I felt a reassured sense that everything is going to be just fine. I won't claim that the moment was attributed to divine intervention, but for me it reaffirmed the feeling of inherent good and of a positive outlook.

Change can happen at any time. I'm a multi-faceted individual with no two sides being the same. I Hope that I can successfully balance and find a positive medium for all that I can offer. From March 5th, 1980 until this moment on December 31st 2008. 10,528 days later, I am back where I started. I'm reborn and I'm stripping down to the basics. I feel more positive and happier than I have in a long time. Try as I might, I will never be able to please everyone all the time. I am going to put myself ahead of everyone for once and try to be as good a person as I can. With that said, I don't see myself heading back West anytime soon. Sometimes you just want to go where everybody knows your name. Time away has done me well and I anxiously look forward to continuing my soul-searching expedition. I wish everyone single one of my friends, family and loved ones prolonged life, love and happiness in the coming year. I love and miss you all and I eagerly anticipate the day we can share some laughs again. Be good with one another.
Love, Marvin

"I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain."

I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.

 It's the feeling of walking on thin ice, whilst carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Cautiously moving one foot in front of the other, as the frozen landscape beneath cracks and threatens to give way. Yet I continue to move forward, hoping I can make it across without falling through again. But I never do. I always plummet through to the bitter waters below.

I swore to myself that I would never let it happen again. I rolled the dice, let it ride and came up a loser. I miss the feeling of being emotionally numb. So now I press the reset button and begin the process of rebuilding walls. Bigger, stronger and permanent.

Charles Bukowski once wrote:
"There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you."

The bluebird is my heart. And I'm not sharing it with anyone.