(Little Man) and I in 1999. Immediately following 9/11, typical of modern warrior families, this scene would be repeated several times. My choice to pursue the warrior life came with the cost of our family. We are NOT victims, we knew exactly what we were getting involved with.
We’ve since recovered our new shared life together as father and son. In relief, proving we did the right thing as a family, at 16 yrs old today, Little Man has grown into a remarkable young man.
“We will hear those planes overhead…we won’t have to be scared…we won’t have to be scared….
“Comin back for me….coming back to me”
Civil Twilight – Letters From The Sky, posted with vodpod
At 39, I’m at the half-way point in my life…if I’m lucky. Don’t tell me the best is behind me. There is much I want to do.
Recently I’ve been hit with reality that the youth of my days have passed, evidence in my friends and family. A once vibrant young beautiful West Virginian princess, Little Man’s mother is now heavier in weight, slower yet working harder than ever now witnessing the onset of stress related health problems. It saddens me she is not healthy, I still love her and like many others, I don’t want her to pass before me. I couldn’t stand the experience.
Not loving her in the same way, I just didn’t take time to consider how I would see life change through others. My response is sobering hesitation. It’s obvious, with my head down, I’ve been too distracted. Now, I realize 39 years have passed me by. What do I have to show for it?
What I have is my son. Friends and some family. And, my health. Finally, I have recovered my health again. I have the new business. A source of independence and perhaps a steady income.
Jojo, don’t you understand, I bet everything on you and Little Man? Don’t you know I had a plan? Almost ten years (8 yrs) of my life has been in pursuit of you following that plan. What have those years done to you? Where have you gone? Why the silence? What did I do? What didn’t I do? Starting a new improved life with you was the intent. About to turn 25, where your life has only begun, you were my reason. What we learned about each other on the Harley was enough for me to make a choice to find you again.
From the moment I chose to pursue you, resistance was all I saw, never knowing it would take me this long. My motivation was to meet you and create a new life continuing from where we left off. Not living in the past, just continuing on a path showing you all the things I had learned enjoying something new even special together. The rides on the bike may have been good, what I was about to show you, no ride could have compared.
Where did you go?
Why didn’t you let me share life with you?
You’ve been overcome by my past, now unrecognizable, you’ve forgotten what I have to give.
Just an image of something so much greater, I am not the source of what is bad in this world. Despite what the past may show, it was never me. You try walking that path.
With this second chance in life, I’m going to take it, don’t want to waste it.
Where did you go?
Did you even really love me then?
Knowing you must go, letting you go sets us both free.
Knowing that leaves me alone. Empty. Saddened. Dark. Lost. Hurt. Missing you. Wanting you. Needing you. Silence.
Not looking for a simple woman for companionship. It’s you I want. Without, I will do without.
When did you stop believing I could?
Where did you go?
Still love you now
What I write is for you to read. I write to you, show me a sign.
“And this land, means less and less to me without you, breathing through it’s trees.”
Mumford & Son’s
To get you meant, only one thing stood between…life.
Failing Little Man, meant we would have failed.
Failure in this life, was, is and will never be an option.
What once a possibility can still be…. Everything else follows simply remains …life.
Prepare to Crossover
A gentleman, a true gentleman isn’t only one who is well-groomed and dresses well. A true gentleman doesn’t only enjoy Johnny Walker Blue Label or poker with good friends. A true gentleman leads his household. A true gentleman loves and respects his woman…
Through hard work and discipline comes children, a house, perhaps a new car or kitchen of her dreams. Communicate, communicate, communicate your way through conflict, all will be well. Surprise flowers here, a kiss there, everywhere are smiles even tears.
While at home, it’s dinner for two or more. Away with your boys, she gives the space. All day away at the stores, whether it’s purses or shoes, she too gets her space. While at home, your time is shared
While on the town, date as if it’s the first time together. If ever she is physically disrespected, or hit on in unwanted ways even treated less than kind, in no way over react. Separate her from the conflict..address the individual and move on. If bad enough, send her home, soon enough you will both be together.
Returning to the scene…with patience, simply wait. In silence, observe for other signs and focus.
Perhaps, it was only immaturity…return home. If any other way, be aware.
If he is far, draw near. If near, drag behind far. When the moment is right, swiftly seize your opportunity…
When returning home, she is well, safe and near.
Just like your grandfather, are ways of a gentleman. Through your Dad’s good friends, are ways of a warrior. A true gentleman loves and respects…while a true warrior defends.
Growing old without Jojo and Little Man is disturbing. Time doesn’t seem the same and life isn’t the best without them. The sun does not set or rise. What was beautiful before is a passing thought today. What I valued before has little to no meaning. Without them, the day doesn’t arrive new and the night doesn’t come soon enough. Watching how fast these past eight years have passed concerns me. Why do lessons learned have to be so costly? Are all these challenges meant for a purpose where so many losses and failures happen for a reason? I ask these questions because from the very start, when forced to make a choice eight years ago, I chose to pursue a good life with Little Man and Jojo, finally new warrior responsibilities. After all that I failed at, I’ve come to believe that the unhealthy thinking I may have been pursuing the next warrior life. Fact is how I couldn’t have all three. Little Man, Jojo and that life.
Today, I seriously look at life different, but I don’t. To read more, please click this link: Spitting Teeth
I did everything I could to sleep with her.
She looked over the records where her notes collected over time from our weekly meetings. Dark brunette cut shoulder length, glasses, with tattoos hidden under her blouse. The artwork spread all over her shoulders, and down her back wrapped around her thin frame. She was strong-willed with a mind like a steel trap. It was the details she craved. With severe back problems from childhood, she pushed through her hidden pain. Every month she took injections to cut the pain, only once a month would she be forced to rely on a cane. Younger than myself, I could never understand how something so irritating could happen so soon to a woman.
Posted on the walls behind her were diplomas for a Bachelors and Masters degree in social work and medical policy, a Molly Pitcher award for leading military wives at Ft. Bliss, Texas. It wasn’t only how cute she was; some of it was her intelligence, most of it was how she rebelled against the mainstream. She was a pistol, and no one fucked with her. Being the lowest pay grade on the scale, she didn’t have high-profile responsibilities.
To read more, click on this link….The Only Exception.
For her, here is Paramore’s “The only exception.” Enjoy.
Adults can manage what life throws at us and will. Children new to the experiences of extreme losses, deal real-time. Few things if any overwhelm parents more than the children. One repeated lesson I’ve learned is how our children are resilient. What was daunting as a child is forgotten as a teenager, yet it never fails to stay seared deep in the minds of the parents.
My son, waited for me to leave the military and return home. He was seven years old the day I arrived. He jumped in my arms shrieking with joy and shared all the plans he had for us. To read more, please click this link: Let me fall
Bear with me, there is a point somewhere in this post. Rarely do I play a musician’s videos twice in a row. For some reason, Jay Z‘s video “Young forever” has me thinking about growing old and dreams. Because I’m right in the middle of being young and being an older generation, go with me on this.
What do you expect out of people? They could be family, friends or people you’ve never met before. Respect comes to mind, respect for people’s boundaries, privacy, property, feelings, their past and most importantly, their dreams. No matter if you are young or old, they both demand respect from each other. Those who have walked their own path’s much longer, demand respect. Meanwhile, younger generations feel there will be no time for tomorrow may not come; their dreams are just as important.
To read more, go to this link: Forever Young.
Fuck time. I’m still going for what I wanted years ago. There is no doubt in my mind I will win it.
Forever young.
Pay attention to the video when you listen to the song. It slowly unfolds. Thanks to XD Photography Blog for recommending this song.
I’m no longer trying to figure out why things happened. Moving forward with my son’s hand in mine, in search of a bike and a woman like Jojo.
Not a “woah be me” song. Just a great song by a band that broke punk into mainstream music. I think you will relate to the lyrics and enjoy this song. When I say they broke punk into popular music, I’m not referring to punk who stayed punk or punk who started punk. By no means is this considered a punk song. Green Day just originated as punk. Regardless, Green Day, just like Metallica went viral if you would and took their genre to the public making it big leaving a great impact on music.
This song reminds me of what it’s like to have friends and family drop like flies while you pursue what you are after. Failing throws curve balls at you, yet, just before the dawn is the darkest hour. When life is so damned frustrating, just when it is about to expire, that is when it starts and the good comes around. Simply put, no matter what you never fucking quit.
To love is defiance. Go against the grain, opposite of the world around you. Call it being stuck or too focused, I don’t care. It is what it is. She’s on my mind everyday all day. These thoughts are motivating one moment, down right upsetting the next. Meaning I find myself wanting to talk to her again sharing with her the good things in life. Next, I’m realizing how far removed we are from each other, there appears no chance we will reconnect. Regardless, I choose to take this path. It is my decision to want to have feelings for Jojo. More than once I’ve tried to give up, naturally within myself is something that refuses to quit.
Knowing she is not married yet is nothing less than inspiring. There is a chance. A chance for anything in this world. Why so many people have gone off and pursued things in this world that were impossible to others. I knew from the beginning it would be next to impossible to retrieve a new relationship with Jojo. The odds were stacked against me. Had I chosen to stay with her, she would have witnessed me as a married man try to start a life with her. Later, in the worst of times with Jojo, she would have seen me as less of a man lacking loyalty. The effort would have failed.
Tell me not to want her. Tell me to go away, to return to my home and start a new life. I will tell you in return to piss off and take the high road. My intent was to recover remnants of a past life with a purpose to recover my son and build a better life with someone new. Someone who earned my trust and respect. Someone, at the end of the day, I simply fell for.
Had I…ah, the past doesn’t matter much. Only for the lessons learned will the past matter. That’s exactly what I’m trying to convey, is how if I had done anything different, I would have compromised myself and everything I believed in. Going after my son first is, was and will always be the right thing. Had I not done that, I would not be here typing. Instead, I would be dust dissolved in some far off waters or found crumbling in mud within some hidden dump. If a pistol to the temple or dextromethrophane to the kidney did not take me, the great man above would have found a way.
All I can relate her to is … beauty. Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When you experience Jojo, you will certainly feel the same way. You want to be a part of her and share something with her. She is dynamic, alive and a giving woman who carries herself with confidence. Being so attractive, she’s confidently able to walk everywhere with her head held high.
This woman is that impressive…she would endure rides on the bike for over 12 hours. Not complaining or whining wanting to go home or stop. She wanted to live life to the fullest. To the point, I taught her how to ride the Harley on her own. Watching her learn was amusing and fun. She took control of the bike, let out a shriek scream and went with it. On that abandoned runway, she commanded that 600lb bike and took off pushing through the gears where the transmission begged to be shifted higher and higher.
For now, rarely when I look up do I see women who capture my attention and set off the internal fire of attraction. If they are attractive, then they lack personality, even intelligence and humor. Or, too dramatic, whine even judge others.
I don’t know, they simply are not this woman. The woman I”ve chosen to love, respect and pursue.
Allow me time to collect thoughts. This way I won’t publish less than the best in posts. For now, I’m doing what I said I would do. Let things go and move on.Well I’m here to tell you how that is easier said than done.I’m just going to sit back and enjoy this classic tune from a great 70′s band called Marshall Tucker Band with their song “Can’t you see.”
Listen to the lyrics and try to understand how this is going to be harder then it appears. I will kick back tonight and relax thinking until I sleep.
Allow a man time!
Peace
Prepare to Crossover
No different from you, yet very different. It’s the way of warrior life, the community and the mission that is different. Everything else is the same as you.
Memory has me sitting at the dinner table late at night doing college homework. She stood in the living room with Little Man in her arms. Rocking him to sleep, Little man’s mother would stand there alone with Little Man listening to this song in repeat until he fell asleep. Every night, same routine, same song. Consistency when our world outside of our home was chaos and unpredictable. His mom did a great job keeping things sane.
This came at a time when our marriage was rocking up and down from bad to good back to turmoil. A fact of life for most families. However his mom and I took it to another level. We didn’t physically hurt each other, however, we beat the hell out of each other verbally.
Meanwhile, at one point it appeared she was simply putting him to sleep. While I concentrated on the work, the more I listened to the song, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to communicate a message to me. As she played this song every night, it was as if she was quietly telling me I was the one …killing her softly.
To my son for all his strength, resiliency and determination to become a warrior son.
1st collector for Head Full of Doubt
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He waited for his mom and dad patiently being the warrior son he is. The anxiety of …separation of the family and how young he was. A symbol of innocence from a boy who never whined, complained or pleaded for his parents. Just like every other kid in America, at 5 yrs old our boy knew what his mom and dad and their friends were doing and why. Eventually, being in the arms of his grand parents (Both sets) we were able to focus on the mission. His mother eventually made it back to America. The day she arrived she dumped her gear in our empty house. Fueling the truck, she departed that day driving 12 hours to recover her son.
During the first Afghanistan trip (Oct 2001-March 2002) I chose not to take pictures of Little Man or my ex-wife. Also, I chose not to bring “moleskin” journals. Concerned if we were caught, I chose to go into Afghanistan stripped of memories. For fear, what we carried would enable people to track down our families.
This first trip to Afghanistan was different from any other deployment I had been on. One difference was the immediate loss of American warriors. While overseas, Daniel Pearl, a Wall Street Journal reporter, was in Pakistan working on a story/mission about Pakistani extremism and the source of the “Shoe Bomber.” On his own, Mr. Pearl finally started to crack the code of Al Qaeda. With his work, researching alone, he was hot on their trail.
The pen is mightier than the sword. Mr. Pearl’s pen had active impact against Al Qaeda. Soon enough, when they caught on, his mission came to a halt January 23, 2002 after being kidnapped by the very terrorists he hunted. The kidnapping occurred within 150 miles of our site, making the event more sickening. While ground zero in New York City and the Pentagon still burned and smoldered, over international TV, Al Qaeda took Mr. Pearl, dressed him in an orange jump suit. In front of the world, they slit his throat killing him.
Within weeks of his death, Daniel Pearl’s wife Mariane would later leave a legacy of Daniel Pearl through their first-born baby warrior son. Giving the world a gift, a new symbol representing what Daniel Pearl and his mission meant to this world. For his son, he will always be in good hands.
Image via Wikipedia
A song about my journey. The choice to walk away from his mother, falling in love with Jojo. The choice of my son.
Not once did I ever compromise loyalty. Without his mom, I’m ok. Without Jojo, I’m less of a man. With my son, I am the man
Yes, I agree. Enya mixed with the War on Terror, or, Overseas Contingency Operations (OCO) is strange. Just shut up and go with me on this. There are reasons to my madness.
Imagine having the honor of being one of the first to go forward and defend this country. There are so few, you find the little things to be a luxury. Like toilet paper, cigarettes, coffee, magazines and newspapers and most importantly, letters from home.
Imagine you took over a city, it’s airport and the surrounding area. Your team secured everything now waiting for replacements. One night, just before Christmas, you wait for the Marines to arrive. Over the horizon from the surrounding desert, you see the rise of dust as the oncoming armada of “Devil Dogs” approach the city. Leading them into your area, you release this group of warriors to take over. It’s here you finally find a break to catch your breath and rearm/refit.
Christmas 2001, weeks following 9/11 at Kandahar, Afghanistan. On the brink of divorce, my son’s mother and I overcame many infidelities, barely holding on to our marriage. That year we left our son Little Man (Age 5) behind in America with relatives and separately made our way to Oman and Kandahar, Afghanistan. As a surprise for both of us, other warriors set up a trip where my ex-wife met me in Kandahar. We shared Christmas where she brought with her this Enya song. A bizarre mixture of Irish music with scenery of war in Afghanistan. I will never forget this song. It rings over and over seared in my mind. Memories of war seem frozen in time forever carried in your brain.
I remember Christmas night she and I shared a dinner of Meals Ready to Eat (MRE) of Spaghetti and hot chocolate/coffee. We found ourselves talking all night long about our Little Man.
That night at the Kandahar, Afghanistan Airport, we cleaned out a bombed out building at one point laying in the middle of the night on top of broken glass from a window. Despite the crunching and crushing glass, we found ourselves alone for the first time in almost six months. That night we stayed together making love all night. After weeks of fighting, that night was our first source of peace in months.
The following morning, as she lay asleep, I remember having head phones on listening to this song. Staring at my ex, I had hints of falling back in love with her. It appeared from our view point, the experience of 9/11 and our work brought the two of us back together. Despite all the conflict, arguments and hatred for each other, we always loved each other. Watching her sleep, I was alone to contemplate what the future was bringing our family.
What was supposed to be an overnight visit turned out to be six days together. For just a year afterwards, we enjoyed a return to a strong family. However, follow on deployments led us to barely hold on until two years later we eventually divorced. The final straw, our marriage ultimately collapsed under the strain of war. We screwed ourselves going into battle, yet we worked hard to make it work. Due to our choices we became a casualty of war.
In time, my search and hunt for Jojo may come to an end. What I must do is take care of myself. Next to Jojo, the bike was that source of peace of mind. Parked to sit alone, the bike is alive no matter day or night. Waiting and ridden full throttle cruising and relaxed. The hum of the engine sets the tone and pattern of the moment. A continuous rhythm felt throughout your entire body. Putting one at ease.
It’s time to find my bike again. Sold eight years ago soon after the last ride with Jojo, I’m now feeling the bike call me. Brilliant black with shiny silver like chrome threaded throughout the bike, once in my possession I’m ready. Until my son grows enough released and moved out on his own, on my motorcycle I take a journey or ride of my own. It’s here that I’m ready and willing to ride across the entire country. The bike leading me back to this woman until one day I return to my final home.
How do I lead you? Don’t walk my path. Look out. Watch out for this, that or the other. Making the choices I made, you cannot keep up. You’ll only get lost. Look, listen, watch me. Soon you will ride alone.
Who am I?
Why the fall?
I’m a Dad. A warrior. A Father. A man.
Silence does nothing but drive and motivate me. Searching day and night for a response. A sign.
Away too long, know me no more, or what I’ve become. Writing is all I have, with no response.
Only meant to find Little Man and myself. Wanting to be with you. To give you a reason to wait for me.
Look what I’ve overcome. After eight years endured much you don’t understand. The experience changed me, yet I’m the same man you met. Different yet better. Stronger today than when we were together. Fail to communicate. My actions and behavior speaks for itself.
Proven to be a good father to my son. I’ve recovered and created a new life. My son returns to me. The boy you care for. What do you want? Little man is back. Everything except you.
All I’m asking is to start from new.
Give me a chance to show what I’ve become. A reason to try again, new beginning is all I have.
How is she doing this to me? How have I come this far, after eight whole years and still have such a strong desire for her? Doesn’t she understand what I was up against? I only chose to walk away with one intent. To find her again.
I cannot help myself. Stuck over this woman, I‘m left confused. She may never had wanted me. I’m left with memories she wanted me. On that Harley together, we rode alone for so many miles. I came to know everything about her left to want her. It felt mutual. I felt her want me. Where have I gone wrong?
A warrior in time of war, I was about to walk away from my men who would return to battle without me. They were my son’s and brothers. To not join them made me worthless.Then, Jojo had me captivated. 
However, she was too young. I couldn’t put this gorgeous woman in a position I would disrupt her life. On course for greatness, had I stayed with Jojo, I would have held her back. I had to give it time. Get my life in order again. Gone too many times had torn apart my life. Everything I had built with blood, sweat and tears was coming apart. The consequences of my travels and choices returned to haunt me. Deep within my mind was an approaching emotional storm that would nearly destroy me.
Pushed and pulled in so many directions, life as I knew it fell apart. Can’t you see I nearly lost my mind?
A mere kid at that time needing to be a man forced to make choices I didn’t want. Faced far worse in battle, now with life back home in peace, I was torn. At that time, I was not a man, instead a mere boy. I had to leave to find myself. Only then would I be able to search for Jojo.
Hoping I was giving her a reason to not quit on me. Her eyes. Looked at her lips and wanted to move closer to her, I wanted to bring her near me leaning forward to embrace her kissing her for the first time. Giving her the reason to wait for me.
After eight years of conflict away from Jojo, the time has come. Must find her again, everyday she tears at me never leaving my mind, memories and thoughts. Day or night, throughout my journey she remains. It’s not working. My efforts fail. She refuses to respond. She’s gone.
I have many passions in my life. My family is one of them. Specifically, my role as being a Dad. What I’ve created and raised. It’s who my son is, what he means and what he has become and will become. He carries my name and the legacy that will be passed on to his own children sharing within the communities they will live and grow with. I see my son from the past, through today and imagine where he will lead to in the future. All the damned potential he possesses, he has so much to give to this world. I want to give him the best tools to prepare him for the best opportunities where he will get the most out of life giving back to this world. I enjoy every day I spend with him, every conversation I’m aware of what I say to him. Our relationship is of most importance to me, perhaps because I didn’t share the same relationship with my own father. Being a Dad is my priority. Being a warrior and leader of warriors even suppporting the warrior life comes next. In the meantime, I’m in pursuit of what I’m passionate about. What I don’t have. I’m pursuing another ride (motorcycle) and a woman. A symbol of what is beautiful, this woman is called Jojo. She is not less of a priority, she is just not in my life right now. I want her to be. At one point I had her in my life but I was forced to walk away from her. Before I left I tried everything I could to show her how important she was to me. I tried to show her how much I wanted her and failed. My efforts blew up in my face where I lost her.
At some point, before I left her, I made a choice. No one else did. I did myself. That I would find Jojo again with the hope to start a new life with her. Now, I’m starting to think I was wrong. You cannot force someone to love you or be with you. The only thing I was going off of was all the time Jojo and I had spent together. I felt her desire to want to be with me. I too felt that way towards her. Everyday was a new adventure with Jojo. She showed me things I had never seen before making me look at life differently. She came into my life at a time of great conflict. She became my source of relief. All of those reasons are simply the start. What Jojo represents is beauty. Her personality. How she raised herself. How good of a person she was, is and has become. How she cared for my only son as if he was her own. She allowed me to focus and be at ease. Her humor, sharing conversation with Jojo, having fun with her is easy. She’s exciting always wanting to ride the motorcycle and explore. No matter how long we rode together, she never grew tired or felt like not riding. She wanted to ride just as much as I did. The roads were never long enough with Jojo. The days and nights were never long enough to allow us to travel as much as we wanted to. Was all this a mere snap shot of experiences that will never occur again? Were we filled with so much energy and drive only because I was on my way out forced to move away from Jojo being the last remaining member of our family to interact with Jojo? Did we spend all that time together because I was on the verge of leaving? Or, did we unlock something with each other unexpectedly where we both enjoyed sharing our time together wanting it everyday? That is what I’ve come to understand it all as. It was all an accident.
When our time together was happening, I knew it was too good to be true. Everyday felt different and so new. The things I saw were brighter more amplified with Jojo. I felt like I was raised to another level of being, living another life. I was elevated to another level with her. The shriek of her voice of excitement and endless drive and energy motivated me. She was something of so much possibility, I could see her in no one else. What was positive before I met Jojo was no longer. The world appeared different after Jojo. I knew when we were together it would not last forever. I simply thought there would be a gap in time where one day we would meet again and continue on a journey together experiencing the world and life together. I thought she enjoyed sharing time with me. I know I did with Jojo.
On top of it all, Jojo was simply beautiful. She was and still is the full package. Beauty, brains, humor, outgoing, caring, athletic, energetic, clean, responsible, independent. I could go on. That is what she left me to remember. She was a source of so much possibility. Being with her was an experience. When I wasn’t with her, I craved her. When I was with her, I couldn’t get enough out of life. When Jojo was near me the world sounded different, felt more intense, smelled sharper, tasted bolder looked simply amazing. Jojo came from a life where she raised herself after being disrespected by those she loved.
The situation between us is so complex, not simple tearing at me. We met as neighbors when she was very young. She became a part of our family where we watched her grow. Jojo matured when I was gone to war. I became introduced to Jojo after she became a new woman I had never seen before. Again, her arrival was like a gift, a surprise, unexpected. The new Jojo is who I came to learn and spend six months with. That Jojo was the one I rode my motorcycle with taking a journey I cannot forget.
In the end, Jojo left me. Or, I left her. I don’t know how it ended. Either I made a terrible mistake trying to get intimate with her, or I made a mistake in my effort and did it wrong shutting her off. It was wrong and didn’t work right. I failed. Regardless, to me, we were not supposed to be apart from each other forever. Deep within I believed we were meant to to meet again. At the time we spent with each other, I wasn’t good enough for her. Before I could share anymore with Jojo, even entertain going further with Jojo, I had to learn what it meant to become a man. That is why I left. I was a Dad to my son and had responsiblities. First, I had to be with him. Next, I had to change my entire life. What I was doing was wrong. There was so much wrong with me, I had to leave Jojo and discard what no longer worked. I had to redefine myself.
Tell me I did everything right with Jojo. Prove to me how I made the right decisions and choices. Tell me I’ve been a good man representing to my son how to be a good man. Tell me I shared with Jojo something to come back to, something to be passionate about.
Little Man is the reason I exist. He is my only son. My only child. He is my family and my purpose. He is the reason I wake in the morning and what I think about when I lay down to rest. I’m concerned about little man and root for him in his endeavors. From the moment he was conceived until today, he has been special and unique. Thank God he is healthy growing up to become a remarkable young man. He is maturing fine at a rapid pace.
Little Man stands at about 5 feet 9 inches tall weighing in at 135lbs. He’s very athletic practicing hockey, golf and motorcross. He’s played hockey since he was seven reaching a point he now wants to shift focus on motorcross. He’s broken his wrist twice in hockey. He’s smart, intelligent with an incredible sense of humor. He knows how to play team sports and work with a team. He’s a natural leader of others who doesn’t put up with bullies yet knows how to push those who lack motivation. He’s experienced as a captain and starting center of his hockey team. He has played football, lacrosse, basketball, baseball, hockey, golf and motocross. He has many talents and is skilled in many ways. He knows and loves to hunt and fish. He has endurance and runs well. He has natural strength where he is lean and will be challenged to grow in size. He must never forget his strengths are his endurance and stamina.
Little man works hard. He gets frustrated, enlightened, motivated and turned off. He’s easily set off to pursue something new and challenging. He loves to practice and is disciplined working very hard at everything he does. He works hard and plays hard. Again, he has a funny sense of humor. He can take things serious one moment and shift to lighten the mood.
Little man loves motorcycles. He enjoys video games, movies and music. He likes old TV shows. He grew up watching A full house. He can play back verbatim funny lines from movies and commercials. Commercials are what he really enjoys. Little man enjoys watching sports especially hunting. He’s aware of what is current even enjoys history. He studies the things he enjoys. He gets it. He knows how to find something he likes. Research and study it. Find the right tools to accomplish it. Learn about it. Practice, practice, practice what he loves. Finally, go for what he loves. Be passionate about what he loves. That is what I believe my son has learned and tries to lead his life. You can see it in how he carries himself and handles situations. Even what he pursues.
Little Man does very well in academics and school. He’s been raised in a unique way where he lived a traditional life up to 13 years old. Afterwards, he’s gone to school over the Internet. Bypassing so much resistance from his family and friends, his grades and his hockey skills improved. We’ve reached a level where we will attempt another semester online so he can shift focus on motocross. The idea is to build his academics around his pursuits and what appears to be his passion. Little man knows what he wants and he’s going after it. That is all I ask of him. I ask that he search for that thing that wakes him in the morning and what carries with him to sleep following him into his dreams. It’s called passion. What drives oneself to pursue a life of their choosing. My son will become a success at whatever he sets his mind to.
Little Man was only seven when I left Florida. He was born and raised in the gulf coast to become independent, curious and adventurous. Little Man’s mother and I were Air Force stationed at a local military base, Hurlburt Field Air Force Base. Rarely home, I was always on the road operating with the teams, while his mother rotated on TDY trips supporting the mission as a professional contracting officer. He was born with the mission emphasized and would grow with it prioritized.
While either of his parents were away, his next door neighbor, Jojo, would come over to care for him. No matter what day of the week or night, Jojo was there to fill in for either his mom or Dad. Jojo brought consistency when there was none. A bridge when the tides were unsteady and the times became unpredictable
, the house settled when Jojo filled in. For Travis, while he lived in Florida, that meant Jojo became a source for peace.
