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
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
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.
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
Sunday, April 22, 2018
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
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
Saturday, February 10, 2018
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.
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 |
Wednesday, November 15, 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
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 |
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Project 2. Winter is Coming.
Howdy purtners,
This is 10% for you to read. 90% for me to have to sit down and type out.
Today I signed the contract for my second "life project" with my bro at work (the Frazz). We got made fun of today at the coffee shop by some evangelical Christians who prayed loudly in public because they served our espresso's with sparkling water.
That is neither here nor there though. We were talking about the formula to success in owning your own personal development. These are old revelations but basically it boils down to this: throughout your day you have to STOP (not pause, an important distinction) and assess - Why am I doing this? Should I do this? Is there a better thing to do?
Example: you get home from a long day of work - what is your routine?
For years my routine was to shed my work clothes off, lay them over my dresser (with the stacks of other clothes) and pop into some gym shorts in order to comfortably lay on the couch for the next 3-4 hours before its time to go to bed. This was/is a crap routine.
Today: Got home from work appx 6:15pm. Eleven hour day. Pick up a piece of trash that has been on the ground in the garage for about 10 weeks. Stripped down and hung up my pants, shirt in the dry cleaning bag, socks in the hamper. Strapped on the work Nikes (you have to have multiple Nikes for different tasks) and stepped outside to do yard work until the sun went down. Probably went in around 7:15pm or so. Your mom, Wonderwoman, cooked dinner and entertained my diatribe on weak minded people who don't subscribe to Stoicism. I ate quickly and then washed the dishes. Then, relaxed for about 30 minutes - reading some blog online and researching which drone I'm going to buy for our trip to Hong Kong. Tightened up the Nikes (did not switch to the correct functional shoes because I was already sweaty. This is okay, check your Nike protocol handbook) and went out to run 3 miles.
Long story made extra long - I was able to STOP - assess my decisions and take initiative to do the things I "wanted" to do. Isn't it funny how hard it is to do the things we want to do? So bizarre.
So here's the bet - we have to have a body (rated by 3rd parties) that resembles a popular celebrity at the moment and the deadline is December 22nd.
We can both win and/or lose the bet. Here are the stakes:
Snoozer of a post huh?
Okay. I'll try to save it with some story time. Naturally the protagonist here is going to be Carolyn because she's my whole world right now (you aren't here yet).
I'll regale you with the tale of our first "date".
This is a real gas - your old man has it within him to be something of a Lance Romance.
Not this time though. We just told this story at a double-date last week though and we can barely make it through the story. You probably won't find it as funny because we're just old farts and you can't imagine us being young and in love.
We struggled to meet up - I didn't get a text back the night we met. Next time she was partying at a casino. I don't remember being excessively poor at this point but I was 21 and paying all my own bills and tuition - that doesn't excuse what comes next.
So I invited Carolyn over to "hang out" at my house...
with my brother (Patrick)...
drinking beers (your mom doesn't drink beers, ever)...
watching The Departed (a very intense movie that you have to follow closely to appreciate)...
For reasons unknown, she agreed to this. When I went to pick her up (in my silver, oxidized, 1997 Honda Civic coupe - so dope) her girlfriends took down my license plate since there was a high probability that I was a psychopath. The verdict is still out.
The drive from her place to mine was about 10 minutes - in that time your mother told me that she...
"was, seriously, not that funny"...
"like, not pretty at all"...
"not smart"..
"and not that interesting actually"...
I offered to turn around because I legitimately thought she had changed her mind about hanging out (which, honestly, who could blame her).
Anyways, I don't recall every detail of the evening except that Carolyn always says that Patrick was just talking a bunch and asking questions while the movie played in the background (which, if you're close with Uncle Pat, is unusual because he's usually quite introverted).
This was in mid-April. Eventually, after she had unloaded her beer on me, we ended up sitting outside on the porch swing staring up to the stars and our conversation ebbed and flowed as easily as taking a breath. We sat outside for six hours and laughed and bared our souls to one another. I remember her beautiful long brown hair and big brown eyes. She wore jeans and a turquoise striped v-neck shirt with Vans.
She just emanated kindness and love with all the things she said, and those didn't say. I wish I could remember which words we spoke to each other - what stories we told and which dreams we shared, but alas, what remained was a blur of emotion.
Then we broke up five weeks later. But that's a story for another time. Ask your mom what her least favorite Katy Perry song is.
Don't ask me because I hate them all.
Love always,
Dad
Song of the week: "Free" by Rudimental feat. Emeli Sande
I mostly just like the part when she sings "c'est la vie" because it is my favorite phrase lately. It's the French version of the Serenity Prayer.
This is 10% for you to read. 90% for me to have to sit down and type out.
Today I signed the contract for my second "life project" with my bro at work (the Frazz). We got made fun of today at the coffee shop by some evangelical Christians who prayed loudly in public because they served our espresso's with sparkling water.
That is neither here nor there though. We were talking about the formula to success in owning your own personal development. These are old revelations but basically it boils down to this: throughout your day you have to STOP (not pause, an important distinction) and assess - Why am I doing this? Should I do this? Is there a better thing to do?
Example: you get home from a long day of work - what is your routine?
For years my routine was to shed my work clothes off, lay them over my dresser (with the stacks of other clothes) and pop into some gym shorts in order to comfortably lay on the couch for the next 3-4 hours before its time to go to bed. This was/is a crap routine.
Today: Got home from work appx 6:15pm. Eleven hour day. Pick up a piece of trash that has been on the ground in the garage for about 10 weeks. Stripped down and hung up my pants, shirt in the dry cleaning bag, socks in the hamper. Strapped on the work Nikes (you have to have multiple Nikes for different tasks) and stepped outside to do yard work until the sun went down. Probably went in around 7:15pm or so. Your mom, Wonderwoman, cooked dinner and entertained my diatribe on weak minded people who don't subscribe to Stoicism. I ate quickly and then washed the dishes. Then, relaxed for about 30 minutes - reading some blog online and researching which drone I'm going to buy for our trip to Hong Kong. Tightened up the Nikes (did not switch to the correct functional shoes because I was already sweaty. This is okay, check your Nike protocol handbook) and went out to run 3 miles.
Long story made extra long - I was able to STOP - assess my decisions and take initiative to do the things I "wanted" to do. Isn't it funny how hard it is to do the things we want to do? So bizarre.
So here's the bet - we have to have a body (rated by 3rd parties) that resembles a popular celebrity at the moment and the deadline is December 22nd.
We can both win and/or lose the bet. Here are the stakes:
- $500 to an anti-charity (we choose political figures that we don't support)
- 20 hours of community service (victor's choice - I'm going to have Aaron do something hyper-religious)
- "Stoicism training" (i.e. laying on the ground in a public place, asking for a discount somewhere you know they won't give you one, wearing loud outfits at snobby places - basically just doing things to adorn thicker skin)
Snoozer of a post huh?
Okay. I'll try to save it with some story time. Naturally the protagonist here is going to be Carolyn because she's my whole world right now (you aren't here yet).
I'll regale you with the tale of our first "date".
This is a real gas - your old man has it within him to be something of a Lance Romance.
Not this time though. We just told this story at a double-date last week though and we can barely make it through the story. You probably won't find it as funny because we're just old farts and you can't imagine us being young and in love.
We struggled to meet up - I didn't get a text back the night we met. Next time she was partying at a casino. I don't remember being excessively poor at this point but I was 21 and paying all my own bills and tuition - that doesn't excuse what comes next.
So I invited Carolyn over to "hang out" at my house...
with my brother (Patrick)...
drinking beers (your mom doesn't drink beers, ever)...
watching The Departed (a very intense movie that you have to follow closely to appreciate)...
For reasons unknown, she agreed to this. When I went to pick her up (in my silver, oxidized, 1997 Honda Civic coupe - so dope) her girlfriends took down my license plate since there was a high probability that I was a psychopath. The verdict is still out.
The drive from her place to mine was about 10 minutes - in that time your mother told me that she...
"was, seriously, not that funny"...
"like, not pretty at all"...
"not smart"..
"and not that interesting actually"...
I offered to turn around because I legitimately thought she had changed her mind about hanging out (which, honestly, who could blame her).
Anyways, I don't recall every detail of the evening except that Carolyn always says that Patrick was just talking a bunch and asking questions while the movie played in the background (which, if you're close with Uncle Pat, is unusual because he's usually quite introverted).
This was in mid-April. Eventually, after she had unloaded her beer on me, we ended up sitting outside on the porch swing staring up to the stars and our conversation ebbed and flowed as easily as taking a breath. We sat outside for six hours and laughed and bared our souls to one another. I remember her beautiful long brown hair and big brown eyes. She wore jeans and a turquoise striped v-neck shirt with Vans.
She just emanated kindness and love with all the things she said, and those didn't say. I wish I could remember which words we spoke to each other - what stories we told and which dreams we shared, but alas, what remained was a blur of emotion.
Then we broke up five weeks later. But that's a story for another time. Ask your mom what her least favorite Katy Perry song is.
Don't ask me because I hate them all.
Love always,
Dad
Song of the week: "Free" by Rudimental feat. Emeli Sande
I mostly just like the part when she sings "c'est la vie" because it is my favorite phrase lately. It's the French version of the Serenity Prayer.
 |
| Photo I took in France - sure hope this is still standing |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)