Single Dads

For veterans, Memorial Day has a very different meaning than it does for most Americans. As a veteran of the wars in Kosovo and Iraq, it is a day of reflection and remembrance like every day since I have returned. While many will enjoy the nice weather, have barbeques, and dip into a pool for the first time this year, we Iraq veterans will spend the day thinking about more than our friends we lost in battle, but also about those who survived them.

Blacks represent about 12 percent of the U.S. population, but 48 percent of the prison population. They represent just 13 percent of drug users, but 38 percent of those arrested for drug crimes, and 59 percent of those convicted.

When convicted of the same drug felony, blacks are about 50 percent more likely to be sentenced to prison than whites.

Dear Mom:

This comes a bit late, because I spent most of my day with you yesterday.  However, I’m pretty confident that you’ll read this soon.

I wanted to thank you for being such a great mom.  Sure, we’ve had disagreements.  I believe that every family does.  But the truth is that you are one of the best, most intellegent, most thoughtful, and best people that I know, period.  Without you, I wouldn’t be… me.  I’d be someone else.  I’d probably be a lot darker, a lot more confused, and a little bit scarier. 

All of my friends think that you are one of the best people that they know. 

I know that you’re not perfect, and no one is, but I can definitely see the sacrifices that you made to make me who I am.

People like to hang out with my family largely because of you. 
I know that you’re not perfect, and no one is, but I can definitely see the sacrifices that you made to make me who I am.  This was your gift to my brother and I, and we know it.  In fact, we know it more than we will ever tell you.

I love you, Mom, and will always appreciate you.  I can’t say that enough.  You are my sister, my mother, my daughter’s grandmother, and my friend, and I can’t wait to see you again.

Thank you.  Happy Mother’s Day.

I couldn’t possibly be more sincere.

A story for you all.

Yesterday was Sunday. Typically, Sundays are really not special. You know, people go to church, people watch football, people goof around outside. Some people sleep. That’s Sunday.

However, yesterday was special. Why? Because my ex-girlfriend’s daughter had asked me to go to her first communion at her church, and I pledged that I would, in fact, go, for her sake.

I have no idea if any of you have been to a first communion. I hadn’t. But it was very interesting. The idea is that instead of deacons or whatnot, children (all about the same age) read the passages from the Bible. Now, I must say, I am not a Biblical scholar by any stretch of the imagination. However, I knew that these cute kids, all dressed up in their Sunday best, had little presentations that they had to give.

Now, I had no idea where my ex’s daughter was in this whole presentation, but I knew that she had to do something, because I had seen and heard her practice. I knew she was kind of nervous.

Imagine my shock when right at the beginning of Mass, she was one of the first to read from the Bible!

Ok. Here’s something you should know.

When I first met my ex-girlfriend’s daughter, she was not a good reader. Diligently, as any father would, I would like to think, I worked with her. Daily. I bought educational videos. I read phonics books to her, and lots and lots of Dr. Suess. After a while, I could see her reading improving. But not too long after that, her mother and I split up (after 2 plus years).

So, naturally I was shocked to see her up at the podium reading for the whole congregation.

I was so proud, I cried.

She will remember Sunday for the rest of her life, and I will too. For the rest of my existence on this planet, I can look back on what she did on that podium, and be proud of myself, and of her. Truly, I have accomplished something important. Now I know exactly how my parents feel on certain days.