Thirty-Six, Seven, and Four

 Hey Cambria & Steve,

Think it's been about seven years since I jotted a few things down to pass along for you here. Today, I turn 36 and I cannot help but to reflect on how this life has felt like I'm staring out the side of the bullet train while trying to take in the nuanced beauty of the landscape on our honeymoon in Japan. 

It feels impossible that this morning, after changing a smoke detector, my 7-year old baby girl walked into our room with two eggs on toast and coffee that your mom made since she wanted to give me breakfast in bed. Dressed in Bluey pajamas with messy hair and two front teeth missing, you came to cuddle after delivery and almost feel back asleep at my side. Poor Steve has a cough that sounds like he's been smoking his whole life but he hit me with a "love you daddy" and two years ago we weren't sure if he'd be able to say things like that to us. 

Originally, my recollection of starting this was to record some thoughts & lessons that might hit different from a fatherless young man who you may find more relatable than your ancient dad who is just so out of touch with reality. Now, as I have become increasingly obsessed with appreciating, living in, and recording these precious & fleeting moments. Wrote in my journal this morning about how my heart yearns to bottle up the magical dopamine of these childhood moments to take hits of it twenty years from now when your mother & I are cuddled up in an empty house missing all the moments of sweetness, chaos, crying, and love. Having a challenging time trying to figure out what is the balance between being here, right now & being able to maintain the long-term perspective that let's you understand and appreciate just how much you'll be miss this, now. 

Your mom sent a video montage of me that Steve Jobs put together for her, a tradition that I generally do for other people's birthdays. And while it is hard to see how many bad hairstyles I've had over that time - it's harder to be reminded of the people (and puppies) that we have already lost to time or illness. And even in the review of all those joyful moments of laughter with you guys, I am choked up knowing that while I can go back to look - I can never go back to live through a moment of that again. It makes me miss my friend who was robbed of his later years and regret any moment that wasn't spent just staring at you - bearing witness to the glory of your youth and your perfect, innocent souls. 

I have been planning on coming back to this blog & even wrote it down as a "to-do" list item in my journal a few times but haven't mustered up the courage to think that anything I may write here would be of enough import to record but on my thirty-sixth birthday I am trying to take a dose of humility and conquer the (not so) quiet voice that says "you are here only to serve and observe" and accept that there may be a handful of people who feel the same way I do but in reverse. 

Anyways, I hope the years between this entry and your reading this have been kind to you (and to us) and that you can rest in a moment knowing that you are so fully & completely loved by another soul. I also hope to pump out a few words for you to gaze at with a bit more frequency than once every 6 or 7 years. 

Love always, 

Dad

A Year in Review - For Cambria Rey

Dear Cambria,

I started and stopped so many times writing little stories about brining you home and what it’s been like to become a father. For some reason I was under the impression when I started this that I’d just try to share with you the things that I was learning before I was your father and somehow it would carry more legitimacy than after your mother birthed you.

I realize now that what I have to say will never carry legitimacy - just kidding. Hopefully I can still be more relatable at twenty-nine than I will be when you’re eighteen and I’m FOURTY-SIX years old.

You are a funny child - you have such expressive eyebrows and your grandmother is convinced that you’re going to be exceedingly intelligent. You just started walking a few weeks ago and your progress on teeth has been disappointing to say the least - you’re only up to 2.5 teeth to date. Your mom and I carry you in our arms while you point and make a funny sound and we just walk around in circles incessantly - looking at photos of ourselves and a few with you.

You’ve started toddler explosions - where when you aren’t getting exactly what you want you’ll just start to scream and roll around on the ground. I tried this technique at work this week and it was not successful at all.

You chase Nixi all over the house and slap her face and pull on her tail - she has been amazing with you which we’re oh-so-grateful for because we had a sincere fear that we we’re going to have to give her up because she’s quite neurotic. She’s actually part of an antisocial dog gang - so far it’s just her and Dragon - but their ranks are bound to swell.

You’ve changed everything about my life - writing these I have this desire to communicate to you when you’re in your late teenage years becoming an adult. But someday you may choose to become a mother and a parent and I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t try to share my new parental point of view with you.

At work I have a new struggle thinking about if I want to be the CEO of the company any longer (no one was offering) but I always just imagined that I would keep making gradual grinding career moves closer to the top job. Now I’m conflicted between “work-life balance” (not my favorite phrase) and trying to set a good example for you by pushing myself and showing you what’s possible.

Thinking about budgeting time towards focusing on my mental, emotional, and physical health is more complicated. I have had some good routines at times regarding hitting the gym before work, doing mindfulness mediation everyday, and cultivating knowledge. But now as I consider staring at your face versus going for a jog I’ve found a new reason to hang out at home. Don’t get me wrong - there is plenty of dead time in my day. But when it comes to expending energy - all I want to allocate my energy towards in interacting with you.

To dove-tail with the whole idea about when you read this - there is another thought that is already running through my head even though you’re just a baby. I won’t take credit for it but it goes something like this: you’re not raising a child, you’re raising an adult.

It’s so important for me to remember that even though you’re my entire world that I’ll be something of a footnote in your life, God willing we both live long and healthy lives. You’ll move out of the home (hopefully) in your late teens or early twenties. You might fall in love with someone and get married. You might be an astronaut on Elon Musk’s Mars settlement. You might be the CEO of the Bank of America and I might be working for you. You might an artist and scrape by in a big city. But you’ll live your own life and choose your own family. And you might be all of those things or none of them.

The only thing you’ll always be is loved.

Love Always,

Dad

P.S. You’ll have to let me know if you ever looked at the appx 5,000 still images and 1,000 videos your mother and I took of you this first year

P.S.S. If you’re one of the other kids reading this and you’re mad that we didn’t take as many photos I’m sorry - we were tired

On a sad day

Hey sweet cheeks,

Always hard to try to be there for someone on a sad day. I've never been very good at it because I always thought I was supposed to do something to make you feel better or say something that would help to fix the problem. I'm learning that probably isn't the right method - I think the right move is is probably to listen and love you endlessly.

Please give me a call (or just come home from school I guess since you probably live with me) so I can listen to you - I might try to fix your problems because my heart will break for you and I'll want to make you all better - but you can remind me to be quite and listen.

Loving you is easy to do. You are currently doing yoga in your mommy's belly - she can't sleep very well but she forgives you already because you're so sweet.

You've answered so many questions for me that I've carried along for so long. I always wondered if you had to earn someone's love. I suppose I should have learned the answer to that from my parents but naturally (and unfortunately) you have to learn some things on your own. The reason I know you don't need to earn love is because you were the size of a poppy seed when I fell in love with you.

There are no words to describe how I feel about you. You are my infinite love. Your heart started beating 22 days after you were conceived and about a week after I found out you were coming to join us. After nearly thirty years of searching for a purpose in life you illuminated mine for me in an instant.

You are a miracle - I was just holding your space

I love you to the moon and back and bigger than a bigraffe.

Love always,

Dad

















P.S. I didn't think of the miracle line - it's from a sad song that sort of stinks so I was torn on quoting it but also didn't want to steal credit.

How I Met Your Mother

Hiya buddy,

Where to begin? I was thinking about trying to memorialize our little story since that's sort of where you came from and you're the next chapter. I was also thinking about flexing this little post into some awkward dating advice from your father that you don't want to listen to. Maybe another time.

So the night we met - a Friday night in April. It's about 90 degrees outside as I hop off my 1970's Schwin Le Tour that I had scored online a few months back. The sun is setting as I'm rolling down my right pant leg and strapping on my apron and walking into PF Changs China Bistro in Tempe for another Friday closing shift. A few hours into the shift I'm walking out of the kitchen as my boss gives me the point and wink and says "you're welcome". I look up and see your mother strolling past as she goes past to be sat at table 25.

I assume that you have some concept of what she looks like - but you weren't there that night so I will help. As she walks past me she doesn't make eye contact. This is either because she is too classy or because her heel game is so on point it requires 100% focus to make it to the table standing. Her hair falls down around her face in loose curls past her bare shoulders. As I caught the gaze of her deep brown eyes I had no clue that those would be the eyes I would lose myself in everyday for the rest of my life. And her smile, you guys, I know she still smiles so you know what I'm talking about, but damn. Frankly, her dress should have been about six inches longer - I saw it years later and thought it was a t-shirt. In any event,whatever she was doing that night, it was working.

She was with a few girlfriends and they were taking her out for her 20th birthday. I remember what she ordered that night (chicken lettuce wraps, honey shrimp, honey chicken, and candied walnut shrimp) and she claims that I didn't mix her Chang's sauce (I did, but whatever). After dragging Uncle Andrew to the table to do our twin routine the group dropped a hint about us hanging out later and celebrating her birthday with them. Before the girls left I worked up the courage to scribble down my phone number on a napkin and take it out with some free desserts - I had never done this before and thought that I would go to prison for sexual harassment. Her memory gets fuzzy on this as well - saying that I placed it in front of another girl that night - which is so awkward because I totally did but now we're married so it's sort of too late to say anything.

Anyways, by the time I got off work around midnight - your mom's birthday party was still raging on - but she was not - she had enough and decided to get some rest. I'm guessing she had like a big exercise thing the next morning or something. We texted for a couple of weeks before actually meeting up - and now it's my turn to be embarrassed.

First date ideas? Could I have taken her to dinner? Coffee? Movie? Bowling? LITERALLY ANYTHING? Yes, I could have.

Did I? Nope. Not at all.

I figured the most appropriate first date would be to go pick her up from her apartment in my 1997 Honda Civic and drag her to the house that your Uncle Patrick and I lived in. Proceeded to offer her a beer (she hates beer) and throw on the most classic first-date movie - The Departed - a lovely, light, story about some corrupt Irish law enforcement in south Boston replete with murder and crime. Uncle Patrick had downed several beers by this point in the evening - and he was sitting on the couch opposite us - really keeping the conversation going. It was not awkward and was totally a great idea for a first date.

Can it get better from here? Oh yes, it can! It will legen...wait for it....dary!

As the credits were rolling I mentioned that I was dying for a cigarette. Marlboro's Smooths, of course. Yes, it was a filthy habit but at least the Smooths had that nice minty aftertaste that everyone can enjoy! We stepped into the backyard and under a canopy of stars we sat rocking on a porch swing and bared our souls to one another. I am pretty sure that I killed that entire pack a cigarettes and we sat our there for about 5 hours talking. I cannot recall one word that was said.

After that night I did eventually take her on a real date but then she was going home for the summer for a couple months. We broke up for a month, she flew back out to see me, and then we got married. The wedding was 1,850 days after she got off that plane but I knew it was over that day.

Anyways, that's how I met your mother.

Love always,

Dad

P.S.  Don't you dare smoke. And do not go to strange dude's houses that you don't know.

P.S.S. The napkin is hanging in the house!

P.S.S.S. Baby #1 is kicking around inside Carolyn's belly RIGHT NOW on the couch opposite me. No one knows your name yet, so you are Baby #1.

Listening to: Holocene - Bon Iver

On your arrival...

Hey Sweet Pea,

This one is just for you. I want to tell you a little bit about how you came to be and what you mean to me. As I write this you currently have a nice 1 bedroom apartment in your mom's tummy. You've been there for about 20 weeks and you'll move into our house in about 20 more weeks.You have a heart and a brain - you have a name and it's written on my heart forever. I've been reading you Harry Potter at night and you kicked me in the face the other day.

Carolyn and I found out we were pregnant with you before a trip to California - she told me by putting a bun in the oven one night when I got home from work. My heart skipped several beats - we'll show you the video she took sometime. I couldn't believe you were coming to us - from nothing to a being of near infinite potential.

Our first appointment they basically just check the hormone that shows ladies are pregnant in urine - very charming. Our second appointment we saw you growing - you were only 12 weeks old - but I listened to your heart pounding at 180 beats per minute while you grew your incredible heart. Our last appointment we found out that you would be a little girl - and I melted.

In an instant visions of Donuts with Dad at kindergarten and holding you while you cry about the first asshole who breaks your heart came rushing into my mind. The world can be a big and scary place - but you will conquer your fears and risk failure to become the person you want to be - and your mother and I will always be in your corner as you chase down your dreams.

It's hard to explain how much you mean to us already. Your mom is upset because she always has to clarify when I ask "how's my baby doing?" which baby I'm talking about.

Anyways, keep doing your thing in there. Try to do your karate kicks periodically - your mom seems to gets nervous if she doesn't feel you dancing every couple of hours.

See you soon sweetheart.

Love always,

Dad

On Grief, Time, and Moving On

Dear Kiddos,

Today marks three months since I lost my buddy Matt. As death and loss are inevitable I imagine this is worth talking about twice.

I remember in the days following Matt's passing going onto YouTube (website with videos, probably still around) and typing in searches like "how to deal with..." and "best way to deal with..." and so on. The videos that came through were vapid and vague. The documentaries on Craig Sager were more comforting for some reason than the psychological overlords words of wisdom.

I always had imagined that when something like this happened that you would heal like cut, scrape, or broken bone. Someone else pointed out that losing a close loved one is more like losing a limb. You learn how to move forward and cope - but there is no end game of "full healing". I went through 11 years of his Facebook photos today on our shared account that we never got up and running (we were supposed to become famous on YouTube somehow). As I reflected on the moments shared together and time lost  I found myself jealous of all the moments I wasn't there for.

Why didn't I go on the summer Europe trip in high school? Why was I such a homebody? Why wouldn't I socialize with his friends that I wasn't close with? Why not quit my job and move out to California together? You get the idea - you can play this game all day. In the end, I think it boiled down being lazy - too many video games and television, not enough life.

If Matt was sitting in the armchair next to me I think he'd tell me shut up and live some more life. We only have the days and moments in front of us. I don't want to lay on a coach and watch shows and movies I've already seen before (even though that's literally what I did today - watching "Your Lie in April" which was an anime that your uncle Matt had recommended to your mom and I while we were driving home after a photo shoot at Schnepf Farms). So now I'm staying up late to write something that might mean something to you one day - tomorrow I'm waking up early and going to go spend time with my big brother Patrick.

I think that is sort of the secret to moving forward. Stay busy, stay grateful, and live some life. Even when you are feeling like butt because someone is missing.

So now the question is how do we live life? Saw something the other day that was written by John Perry Barlow - one of the lyricists for Grateful Dead - whose music I know almost nothing of. Came off his list of "Principles of Adult Behavior" and think it might be a pretty solid north star.

#15: Avoid the pursuit of happiness. Seek to define your mission and pursue that.

Well guys - I guess you are my mission. Helping you to grow and then embrace your own #15 - whatever that may be. Also, I strive to improve the financial lives of my clients from about 8AM until 6PM M-F and some weekends.

Hang on to the people you love - drink deeply from the well - and live some life. Don't waste your time because unfortunately it is not an infinite resource - for you or the people you love.

Love always,

Dad

P.S. when you read this one, you should come grab me and ask me about Matt. I'll show you some pictures and tell you some stories I shouldn't.

Tian Tan - Hong Kong October 2017

On remembering Matthew Thomas Klamka

I wrote the following for Matty's funeral services:

Hello, I'm Lucas McCarville - I was blessed with being one of Matt's many friends for the past 15 years. I want to start by saying thank you to the Klamka family - it is a true honor to stand in front of you and speak in remembrance of Matt.

Trying to consolidate everything that was Matt's incredible life and winning personality into a few words is an impossible task. When I think of Matt I first imagine him cracking jokes and lighting up whatever room he was in. But Matt was so much more than that – he had depth, wisdom, and strength – I'd like to share some of the things he's taught me.

You are not in control of your life - but we do have control of our reaction to the twists and turns that we encounter - it is up to each of us to create purpose from chaos. 

Matty was appreciative of support but he wasn't the least bit interested in pity. He knew that life wasn't fair but he never allowed his circumstances to consume him - while he was fighting with every ounce of his being - he stood tall as a pillar of strength for all of us.

Matt loved Star Wars, Japan, physics, video games, dogs, and sports - but what Matt loved the most was YOU - the person sitting in front of him. He had an uncanny ability to look at you with fresh eyes and accept all of who you were. He lived in each passing moment - he drank deeply from the well of what this life has to offer and his passion for living was infectious - your spirits were uncontrollably lifted when you were near him. Matty always helped me to dream bigger and demand more from myself.

While Matt's presence will be sorely missed he left us with his lessons; his philosophy; his spirit. Matty lived a life that mattered - and the best way I know to honor him is to remain steadfast to his guiding principles.

I want to close by quoting one of Matt's heroes - Craig Sager - the iconic sports reporter - who lived a bold life full of color and positivity.

"I will never give up, and I will never give in. I will continue to keep fighting; sucking the marrow out of life as life sucks the marrow out of me. I will live my life full of love and full of fun. It's the only way I know how."

Matt understood that we are the choices that we make - that's why he was never a victim - he was a rock, he was a soldier, he was a lion, and he is my hero.

Thank you for teaching me, thank you for loving me. Your legacy will live on in the best parts of us - when we make the choice to create a better life, a better world.

I love you buddy.

Kids,

I wish for each of you that you never lose someone you love when they are in the prime of their life. But even though you won't get to meet Matt you will surely know him through what he has given to your mother and I - a shining example of how to live a beautiful life.

Love always,

Dad

Matthew Thomas Klamka
December 5th, 1989 - November 11th, 2017