Voting Day 2020 – Ian would say “People above politics”

Ian,

I did not expect to post a blog today. Like most Americans, I am struggling with this divisive and mentally abusive election season. 2020 has been a year of years. I stated that my 5-year plan was to just finish 2020. This election has increased the anxiety and lengthened the days. 

I woke up this Nov. 3rd remembering your quote in the Bryan/College Station Eagle on July 4, 2012 – your first semester at A&M through the Gateway Program.

What would you think of the politics of this year? From this quote, I remembered that first – you would be voting. Second, you would not shut up about your opinion. Ian, you would be endlessly talking about the values that drove your opinions and motivations for participation. 

So, in effort to not to talk about the details of this particular election, I wanted to explore what values drove your passions, opinions and choices. Maybe they will be relevant and helpful on this critical election day - as I process how to respond. 

Some thoughts:

From his earliest years, Ian’s empathy shown through his words, his feelings and actions. Thus, his mom always said he was destined to grow up to be a counselor or a preacher. As we sat stunned in our home on Trillick Ct. on September 11th morning in 2001, my thoughts circled around the horrible suffering and loss of life as the twin towers collapsed. Danny, Caylea and Ian who sat with me cried and talked about this loss too. But, as a 7-year-old, Ian’s response showed important nuance. He was most concerned about the people’s families who had to watch this video, see the buildings crumble and their precious loved one’s lost. He thought through things – not just of those who directly suffered, but how their suffering impacted others. 

This “other-centric” attitude drove his actions as he grew up. He actively joined his brother and sister as we helped at homeless shelters, took sandwiches to people with Mobile Loaves and Fishes and served Kids at the Stone. He was passionate about helping people. His active engagement in mission trips to Mexico, El Salvador showed his passion for those who had less than he had. He would serve tirelessly through manual work, playing basketball, trying out soccer, or teaching the guitar with those around him. He gave literally the shirt off his back and his good shoes so that the kids would not be lacking. He gave his love in word and deed, listening to the kids and trying to understand and speak to them in their native language. 

As we prepared to leave El Salvador, the children we served would not let him go – hugging, holding him and wanting to stay with him. They took out their pens and wrote their names on his shirt – a legacy 40-50 kids left of the impact his love had on their lives. He did not want to leave El Salvador and told the pastor that he would do what he could to return. He did not have opportunity to make good on this desire. This shirt is one of our most valued possessions.

He regularly gave money, food, and his possessions to homeless people in Austin. After his passing, homeless men would stop us and tell of his generosity. Indeed, Lanette heard stories of Ian from homeless people who did not even know she was this “kid’s” mom. He left a lasting impression. Further, he knew the challenge of addiction and the way charity can be misused. But, he gave first; he did what he could to meet a felt need. Their stories reverberated with Ian’s generosity and how they felt the love of Jesus through him.

In High School and A&M, Ian was passionate to see his friends from all backgrounds have the same opportunities, recognition and respect of others as he enjoyed. He would lecture me on the evils of racism and the importance of inclusion of all people, gender, sexual orientation and race. Exclusion, suppression and limitation was not to be tolerated. Ian’s voice was clear and articulate – and ceaselessly expressed… We could hear his opinions until we ask him to leave the room because our ears were tired.

Why do I tell these stories? One reason is to remind myself of Ian – so I do not forget the details of his vibrant, but all too short life. But the other reason centers on the passion that he had for people and that politics must serve people, not oppress or limit them.  In this election, voting is critical. It is our voice. As Ian reminds me from the past, America is a unique place, where we can “express our opinions openly and live our lives fully.” This starts with the vote. It is our voice for our leadership and values. Ian would be voting early or today if he were here. 

But as we vote, we need to consider who and what we are supporting. Politics has become even more this season about “power,” “positions” and “policies” that are divorced from their impacts on real people. We have politicized everything this year – from public health to even the vote. Yet, in the midst of this rhetoric, real people struggle to have food, pay rent, find jobs, receive healthcare and plan for a future. I know Ian would be voting for candidates who value the people first and would use policy to help people, not exercise power, prove a point or argue a position.

Ian has been gone for so long – I cannot predict some things about what he would look like, be doing, and other things. But what he valued, people – this I know would not change. People must be valued above politics, I think I know how Ian would vote this year.

Now back to my direct conversation with Ian. 

Ian, I love you and appreciate how you continue to influence my life for good. Tell my little sis Stephanie that I love her too and miss her so very much. Look forward to meeting you both again when in the reunion in our real "Home."

Love you "E",

Dad

Can't Get Next To You - Ian in the era of social distancing

Ian,

As I sit working, amid continued social distancing, and contemplate what the world will look like as we begin to re-open our economy, I cannot help but think what a difficult time you would be having with all of ... this! The old Temptations' song says it all - you would be driven crazy because you "can't get next to you" - well, anyone - right now.

When defining your social behavior type, everyone would agree that you were extremely extroverted, demonstrably affectionate and a constant join'er in'er. You were okay to spend time alone - but drew energy from, and were the initiator or nucleus of group interactions. The group could just be one other person - or it could be a room full. What mattered for you was the quality and quantity of interpersonal engagement that occurred. To use mom's terms - you were immediate in all your relationships. Engaged, involved and bent on understanding.

You did many things "for" people (we all have memories and stories of your generosity) - but your focus was how to be "with" people in the doing. The "doing" was always contextualized in the "being." I see your focus on "with" instead of "for" extended from people to God as well. You did not serve, worship, read, or pray to just do things for him - it was to be with Him, experience Him and enjoy Him.

Your bent goes further than just the interaction and conversation - it extends to the physicality of "with." You were raised in an affectionate family. Hugs, kisses on the lips - even after high school - were common between you kids, Mom and I, and between you kids. It stuck out. At TAMU Gateway registration - you greeted me with a hug and a kiss. I headed home with a hug and a kiss. Most parents got a hand shake or a brief hug. Your hugs were not brief, not a chest bump, but a full bear hug. More often, they were a running bear hug - more or less like a safety tackling a would-be receiver. Chest to chest, cheek to hair, swaying back and forth - often, you picking me up. It was not just the immediate family - it was other family members, your friends - even people you just met. Acceptance and physical touch were one and the same for you.

I can only imagine how unproductive you would be working alone in and apart! You probably would be dropping by to bug neighbors to borrow things, drop off food or check on them. I imagine you would know all your neighbors and text them to come to a social distancing BBQ or get together of some type. I know we would caution you about such interactions, but you would talk about the value of people being worth the risk. You would struggle not to shake hands, hug or sit in someone's lap. It would kill you to be "so close" - "yet so far..."

How do I know this?

I remember you growing up. You were always sitting with your friends, bumping into them, pushing on them, welcoming them with a bear hug. From the time you got into your "big boy" bed, you would get out and sleep with Caylea or Danny to be "with" them. I remember coming into your rooms in Maryland, in California, and finding you and Caylea together sleeping - or sleeping together on Danny's bottom double bunk, or cuddled together - the three of you - sleeping on the floor after a movie. In Austin, it was often one on a couch and two of you on the floor - but all wrapped in blankets and often still touching in sleep.

If you guys were playing games in the garage in Vacaville, with Taylor there or not, folding the futon down to a bed was the natural late night thing. Each of you would get your blanket, curl up and play video games till you all fell asleep overlapping each other on the futon. Those were amazing Saturday and Sunday mornings to see you, Caylea, Danny and a friend or two, draped over each other and sleeping. There was always a lot of love in our house.

Our houses were always full of kids - if it was not Danny hosting a video game LAN party, it was you hosting a swimming or trampoline party, or Caylea having friends over to play or cook. The pool, game room, the basketball goal, the TV, your room, the guitars - anything was a reason to get 2-15 kids over and be "with." Each weekend in California and Austin, our house was full of your friends. I remember the pool was full of boys and girls when you and Caylea had "moving parties" as we prepared to come to Austin. Kids were everywhere, in the game room, the living room or the pool. Boys coming by and picking up grilled asparagus and burgers and eating. Yes, I said grilled asparagus - it is amazing... Everyone being with each other.

As you got older, you spent more time in smaller groups to play guitars, talk or hang out. But larger groups still came over to play basketball, participate in dunk contests, skateboarding or pick up frisbee games. One time, MJ&PG came to visit and you were in your skateboarder phase. You found a board shop on - 12th street - down from the main Austin Community College campus. After a friend-filled afternoon, we headed to the shop and you looked for parts for your board, but you found your first beanie there. MJ&PG bought it for you. Even as a junior higher, trying to establish independence, a bit awkward and as a skateboard dude - you gave MJ&PG each a big hug making their visit complete.

I still remember a sleepover at our house when you were in High School. You guys came over to watch scary movies. Marielle introduced you to horror flicks - I am not sure if you ever really liked them or just made a deal to watch with her. You guys said you were watching the "scariest movie of all time" and we said - "good luck with that!" Mom and I headed to bed and you guys were on the couches starting the movie. I forgot the actual title, but when we came in the next morning - all the living room was re-arranged. Pillows and blankets formed a ring around where you all slept - several almost-adult men - huddled together encircled by pillows asleep. The story we learned later was that the movie freaked you all out so much - that when someone needed to go to the bathroom, you all huddled together to "go with" the person to the bathroom. You would deposit the guy in the bathroom, the group waited right outside - and the person emerged (we hope they washed their hands). The huddle reformed and returned to the living room. Only as a group was the movie restarted. Mom and I guessed the pillow and blanket border was to keep the evil out!

At Texas A&M, you were known for your demonstrative affection and big smile. How you would have struggled to wear a mask and not see others facial expressions in a grocery store, walking down a street or at school. That is what we will no doubt be doing when our "shelter apart" rules are lifted. You loved making people laugh and bringing them joy. You needed that visual feedback - feedback blocked by a mask. Moreover, we would miss seeing your face explode into one of those patented smiles. With social distancing, you could not embrace others and lift them up in a greeting or see their smile if they had a mask. Yes, this time, these rules would be a definite challenge for you.

It is not just me remembering your demonstrable, physical and vocal ways. Friends would write:

As I read over what other people said, it seems like we all agreed, you were GENUINELY loving and caring, it was just of your nature. I thank you for giving me the privilege of being one of your friends, I'm going to miss your sweaty bear hugs in the gym, you know I love you, buddy, take care for you're in a much, much, better place now, until next time... 

Ian used to work at the Starbucks next to my church. I eventually found out his schedule and would go get coffee just because I knew I would see him there. Almost every time he was working he would see me, walk around the counter, and give me a big hug. 

I remember the "taking out the trash" video where you and Brenden instigated jumping over trashcans. It is the joy, the smile, the exclamation that communicates how much you loved being with people - and people with you.

It was not just who you wanted to be "with" people - it was where you would get together. Always it was places surrounded by people:

• Zilker Park and Mt. Bonnell - playing ultimate, entertaining with a band, hiking with friends, running with dogs.
• At the movies, packed at Alamo Drafthouse or another theater. We just rewatched the Avengers and remembered that your favorite scene was the shawarma the team ate after the credits. You loved how Bruce Banner (aka the Hulk) was pounding the fries.
• Concerts at Stubbs, Emo's and other places you would watch or play with Little Emily Warfield.
• Restaurants - McD's, Chick-fil-a, Lupe's or a chicken strip place.
• Sports - watching UT or TAMU football, basketball or playing at parks, working out in the Rec, or shooting hoops in a gym.
• Church - the Stone full of people, singing at the top of their lungs, hands raised high.

Each provided ample opportunity for sharing way too much common air, breath, sweat, and other body fluids. Social distancing would drive you crazy!!

After going Home, your friends shared love "with" our family in the demonstrable, physical and vocal ways. Over 50 joined us at TAMU Muster - shouting "Here!" louder than any other group then hugging and loving us from the gym to Double Dave's pizza. Over 100 friends came to our house before your Going Home service to donate hair, play guitars, sing, and sleep over one last time.

 About that time, Taylor would say:

I've hugged and been hugged more this last two days than I have the rest of this year

Hundreds came to your service to love and encourage us. Then 5, 10 or 20 would come to our house, meet us, love us in Austin or meet us to "pond hop" or eat in College Station. Still, one or two friends drop by the house when in town to love us, to hug us, to exchange Ian stories "with" us. I guess even Facebook is a place where they meet us and share love, stories and memories.

Your extremely extroverted, demonstrably affectionate and a constant join'er in'er character rubbed off on your friends for sure. They have supported us throughout this incredible 7 year odyssey - a trip Mom, Caylea, Danny, MJ&PG, me - all our family and all your friends - never wanted to take. A trip of years without you. As Mom said on Facebook,

I selfishly thought I am being smothered with comfort with food, texts, fb posts, calls, visits, prayers, you name it. The one comfort I want most is what is causing me to mourn ‐‑ the comfort of hearing my son's voice, seeing his smile again, hugging him tight. 

This is how I put it in a post:

I remember your smile, the giggly laugh, bear hugs and your smell, scratchy beard, kisses good morning and goodbye, the “I love you” in texts, on the phone or as we left each other. I remember you waking me up, standing over me as I slept, saying “Dad, I’m home!” (How I long to hear that again!) I replay the jabbering conversations, silly topics, the passions for the present and future, the arguing over values and actions as well as the celebrating of each other. 

Yes, we miss that extremely extroverted, demonstrably affectionate and constant join'er in'er person more than words can say. But I see you were much like your King, who was all about people joining "with" Him. In some of Jesus' last words to His disciples, He takes them from despair to unshakable hope.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:1-3

It was not enough for Him to be God, He had to come and conquer sin and death for us. But "for" was not enough - He Himself is preparing a place to be "with" us. He will come get us to be "with" Him always. The hope for resurrection is so powerful for there is much "with" yet to experience. To meet you again, see your smile again, bear hug you again - to worship together again. I am DONE with this social distancing from you and Jesus! I am ready for reunion and renewal. We have so much to share with each other - I know!

It has been way too long Ian. I cannot believe it has been seven years. It feels like a lifetime ago, but seems like only yesterday. I miss you so much. But in the midst of missing and longing to be "with" you again, I am thankful for my extremely extroverted, demonstrably affectionate and constant join'er in'er son.

Love,

Dad

Stuck at Home...

Ian,

Here we sit, largely stuck at home. I should not make light of this situation. The Covid-19 pandemic is a serious thing - putting lives and whole economies at risk, not just my convenience. But as I work alone and basically hang out only with Mom, Danny, Caylea and Emily - the local family - I cannot help but fondly remember the times we were stuck together, mostly at home.

• When you were just a baby, a dramatic cold snap rolled through Maryland. Mom and I realized that our apartment heater could not keep the place actually warm. So, we moved all our beds to the living room, closed up all the bedrooms and we all "camped" around the fireplace keeping warm. Danny is the only one of you old enough to maybe remember this experience. Caylea was a toddler and you were a baby. Mom and I were worried that you guys would get cold and sick. But as the days rolled on, as temperatures dipped into double digits below zero, we snuggled with your "Y's", on the couch, hugging and keeping each other toasty warm. We had a blast as a family playing games, being creative with toys and watching movies. We really bonded as a family of 5 during that time!

(Yes this is NOT you as a baby - but a great setting of you in snow for several stories here...)

• When we moved from Maryland to California, our clothes, beds, cars, well, everything was coming behind us in a big moving van. Mom had the awesome idea to pack up bedding in every suitcase we could muster and fly it to California with us. We unloaded from the Washington D.C. flight in San Francisco and picked up a mountain of bags from baggage claim. We rented a car and drove to Vacaville and took residence in our first house on Trillick Ct. Since we had no furniture, we camped out in the living room with our blankets, Y's and pillows to sleep on. We had done a camping trip in a backyard tent in Maryland, but now we were out - not under the stars, but the ceiling fan in one room. We would talk, giggle, play games and hang out together in the evening. With no TV, in a time before internet, it was just "kid-TV" and did we ever have three entertaining kids!

• Although not at home, we were stuck at Jr. High Camp in the Sierra Nevada mountains one Spring due to heavy snow. It really was just a day or so of delay, but you and Caylea accompanied us to camp as Mom and I worked the camp while Danny was in Jr. High. You could not stay awake for the teaching and worship - you would fall asleep in Mom's lap - so cute you were. We used our free time to build the most advanced sledding tracks we could conceive - with banked turns, small jumps, tunnels and spots to dive off into the deep snow. We grabbed the sleds and inner tubes and made countless runs down the tracks! You were fearless even in elementary school! What fun we enjoyed together, stuck in the snow.

• Our first Winter in Austin - we had an ice storm and everything seemed to close down. Mom and I worked at UT and with the overpasses and roads slick, it was shut. So, we enjoyed hanging out and enjoying our "free" time playing games, watching DVD's, and talking. Soon, we all came down with cabin-fever. Mom suggested a "hike." So we put on our jackets, gloves and hats and headed on a walk out of the neighborhood to find a restaurant to eat at. We found a building with huge icicles hanging down and you broke one off and stuck it up your nose - posing for a quick picture. Mom got it! We slid, fell and made our way slowly to PokeJo's BBQ to eat there. The warmth and the food were so good. Then, we slid home. Mom has written about this before, but the picture of you with the icicle was used as the pic on a party invite that she designed for your birthday. Apparently you were embarrassed by the picture and did not hand the invitations out at school - we found them in the bottom of your backpack. We still had a great birthday party - we always had good parties! You became bolder with time - allowing your public goofiness to be easily expressed in public!

• Our first year in Austin, we had our floors re-done and you and Caylea moved into our room to make the work simple for the installers. So there we were - all using one bathroom, in one bedroom. Two teenagers, a dog and a cat, with Mom and I. We had such a great time "camping" in the room. All I remember was the endless giggling as we tried to sleep and each of us talked, told jokes, made comments and laughed. Almost asleep, then comment - laughing - awakening - threats, rinse and repeat! Oh for those times to return!!!

• Our last time stuck was really short. It was Mom's birthday in 2013 and we went to visit Danny in Houston. You came from College Station, Caylea, Mom and I from Austin. Danny was not doing particularly well at that time so we ended up staying the night - getting a hotel room. We  stuffed ourselves in the same suite only to find we had the clothes on our backs basically. We had not planned to stay the night so no one had sleeping clothes, toothbrushes, toothpaste or anything. So, off to Walmart you and I went to get things to keep us from grossing each other out. We looked for night shirts and all we could find were XX-Large dark blue T-shirts on sale. We bought the shirts and we wore them - as dresses!!! We all laughed and smiled and giggled, stuck in a hotel room, trying to fall asleep as the shirts gathered around our waists uncomfortably in bed. You made sure we remembered Donkey from Shrek, "And in the morning...I'm making waffles!" Indeed, we made waffles that morning - Texas shaped ones even. The only non-memory evidence of the trip a single picture at breakfast as we sat to eat and sing "Happy Birthday" to Mom - still wearing those oversized T-shirts. After you went Home, I could not give up my ridiculously large shirt for years. It was a useless shirt but it was the last time we were together as 5! What a great time being stuck in Houston.

Getting stuck with you - it still happens. I get stuck as I walk one of the dogs, see a picture, open a book, see an old webpage, sit in your room, play a guitar - many things trigger it. When I get stuck with you - you are back, alive in my memories, jabbering, talking, giggling and playing. I hang out with you, then you fade. Wow, I miss really being stuck with you!

Jesus said His Father's house had rooms for everyone and He was preparing a place for us. Your place just got ready before ours. He came and got you. What a gain for heaven and loss for earth... I really miss you here. Sometimes it is easy to get caught up in this life and forget that we are only pilgrims and sojourners here. I cannot wait to get stuck with you again - but this time in our true Home. What a joyful time it will be as we meet - telling stories, laughing, seeing you again, and praising God for making good on His many promises. 

For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words. 1 Thess. 4:16-18

Really cannot wait to get stuck with you again - at Home.

Love you "E"

Dad