my love,

years, again and again. winter spring summer fall. again and again. end of summer brings the end of august.

the memory. never nervous, excited to get to the church. scolding me. dancing at the reception. reminding you to eat, smile on your face that outshined everything, saying, ok, ok, you’re right.

the flight to paris. at your mercy at the pharmacy because my ear was in pain from the pressure. walking for hours. taking the metro, working out the maps, listening to you, refusing to wait in line for the eiffel tower, walking in the louvre through the exit, the chunnel to london, the rain but sunny the next day, brighter than paris but we had no idea where to go to see what london had to offer. it accelerates, becomes a blur.

the birth of our daughter, watching her struggle to raise her neck, being told we couldn’t afford a split with a basement, feeling that this house was the one with the most potential, holding your hand on a long drive, the rush of our son, her holding him, sending him off to kindergarten, waiting in line for a ride at disney, being devastated by a looming layoff, the motel with spiders, laughing, crying, the cut of your hair, the lipstick that made you look a pristine sculpture.

years, again and again. winter spring summer fall. over and again, and i hold everything we have been and all we could still be. i hold time with you, over and again, so it never runs out.

it came and went, just like that.
the day, the week, the year.
And soon, eventually, hopefully slowly but it feels too quick: the months, the years, the decades, the life, this life.
we’re are living in a pandemic, people are protesting in the streets. wearing a mask has become a rallying cry. we have a president that engages with social media an par with a tween getting their first smartphone.
Over 10m worldwide, over 500k dead. A quarter of it here: 2.6m infected, 127k people dead.
the day came and went. the virus came but came again. the brutality came and will not stop. literal, figurative. the people came and went. some quickly, some slowly, a fair number suddenly, without pause, without a moment of reflection. surprise, you’re dead.
it came and they went.

ioanna,
at about 6, maybe 7 months, we were still at yiayia and papou’s house in the apartment upstairs, where you were outgrowing the bassinet quickly. I’d put you with your feet on the left and your head on the right side of it. I’d walk away, it was your nap time, baby must sleep, and you’d cry, annoyed. it was hard but dammit of course I gave in and I found you completely turned around. weren’t your feet over there and your head at the other end? am I suffering sleep deprivation? I worked nights at the time, slept even less than I do now. the next day, I made sure, head on the right, feet on the left and I walked out. you cried, etc, etc, I ignored it until you fell asleep and I snuck in and holy cow: head on the left, feet on the right. I looked at my hands, right hand head, left hand feet, but you were reversed. I was sure of it. did it again the next day and the same. how is this happening, how did your head end up where your feet were? you need to understand, this bassinet was narrow, very narrow, coffin narrow, another growth spurt and your legs would’ve hung over the lip of this thing.
so, as first born, all parenting is essentially an experiment. The next day, I put you in this just fitting bassinet and instead of walking away, I stayed in the room. you balling just a few feet away from me but I held fast. just when I could not bear it anymore, I see your tiny fingers over the lip. I see you grasping it, pulling yourself up, the bassinet shaking, tipping side to side, sit yourself up, perilously near the edge of this thing, wavering, and poof, tumbling over to the other side, head from right to left. just like that, literally head over heels, only three feet from the floor but it might as well as been a skyscraper for you.
another time, you were 3 or 4, we were at the playground, you were timid but eventually mustered up the courage to climbed up the slide by yourself. without my hand, without looking for me, it was the first time you didn’t. you had this smile on your face, so genuine, a breeze floating through your hair, you were looking at something in the distance, your future maybe. I saw it all then, I saw you belong to the world and it broke my heart. it’s hard to explain, I wanted to sweep you up into my arms and tell you that it was wonderful but terrible and you should never leave us, you should never grow up or old or have a life of your own, you were our life and you had to stay that way. but I was frozen, I was frozen by this moment of this shy girl finding confidence in herself, forgetting herself, being just herself in the world and my god, what a beautiful thing to see, to witness, to be a part of.
and yes, there was so much in between. reading batman comics, reading the Alice in WundLa book, or whatever it was, Captain Underpants, the China project, the jigsaw map, the explorer killed by pirates and the thing we tried to do with the map and magnets, playing piano while I worked out, playing tennis and bowling on the Wii, our arguments as you turned to your teenage years and we drifted, trying to figure out how to be close but also ourselves, playing in the pool in Florida in the rain, chasing you around the house, seeing you watch me destroy the wall to the room that would become the kitchen, helping me paint your room, disappointing you in one way or another over and over, singing to you, telling you stories as you drifted off to sleep, pushing you, challenging you, being amazed by your sense of humor, being enthralled with this child who became a girl and is now a lady.
but I keep coming back to that day, when you teetered on the edge of that bassinet, bobbling from right to left perilously close to the edge. it wasn’t you who fell head over heels at that moment: it was me, always.
love,
daddy
3/4/2020

This is the moment, right here, in this picture, that I knew you. I saw it all. Everything you were from that moment to now, I saw play out before me. The light breeze in your hair, the sun behind you, the smile, the earnestness, the warmth, the hope, the beauty and the mischievousness. From a short distance, the far off glance, the challenge ahead, crouching in preparation for great effort, the joy of being resolute, of having made a decision to go forward: as if you were saying, “Look at me, I’m here for now, but I’m getting ready, I’m about to go where I’ve never gone before and I’m ready for it, are you?”

I wasn’t ready for it. I’m still not ready for it. I knew then looking at you everything I know about you now. The same but having moved forward, having moved beyond. Being everything that this picture promised and everything that you were looking at. Everything that was more, that you were already ready for, have always been ready for, will always be ready for. From this picture I knew you and all that you are capable of. I see you today, and every day, as the realization of this picture, a fulfillment of the gleam of that little girl’s eye: afraid but determined, ready even if not quite prepared, open to whatever comes next.

I’ll never be ready for it, but I saw it coming. O what a beautiful sight you continue to be.

in the age of harassment. out on lake norman, morresville, north carolina. after heavy morning downpours the day turned gleeful. bright, sun filled, blue green lake that we barreled through. now, early evening, the heat thickening around my neck and joints. like a hot tub without the water. welcoming but a little dangerous, a little pissed off.
i keep replaying the events from last thursday, the stupid meme i posted and the reaction, the subsequent punishment. the disquieting sense of betrayal. i posted a nsfw meme. the optics: we’ve all gone through harassment training. i’m a manager, etc. was told being terminated was even on the table. not sure if that’s because i flatly asked if that was going to be the case.
but there are other details too. i retracted the email once i sent it. it hit only three people. after a conversation between my managing director, my director and hr, judgement delivered. i was going to call each member of the team and apologize for the email. i was going to retake the training. i was, after coming back from vacation, going to make an apology to the team for the same meme. hr polished it all off with, how i had expressed with him how i found problems with the harassment training and that now perhaps i would take it more seriously.
then right after, a call from the MD: this is me now, your friend. i dont think less of you. this has not affected your career. i would still invite you over my house for dinner. i make the calls of the apology tour. almost everyone doesn’t know what i am talking about because i had retracted the email and they never saw the original. a couple of them started googling to see what i might have sent. i call my direct. he mentions again that termination was on the table. it irks me that it was. or if it wasnt and this was a scare tactic, it bothers me even more. that this was serious. i had to understand my position now. i was a manager, i had to take this seriously. at the end of the day, he texts me, not email, text: it’s over and done with, dont let this ruin your vacation.
and that’s the betrayal i am talking about. i never said i didnt take the training seriously. i’ve had dozens of conversations with HR about the very nature of company culture, how to maintain it as the company grew. how to interview, how to find candidates. and the problems i found with the training was that it was deceptive. it was disingenuous from the onset. there is an exercise at its beginning. choose who others would think most likely fit the description given. note, not YOU, but OTHERS. what followed: most like to be a leader? picture of man, picture of woman. three seconds to chose. most likely to have a drug problem: picture of black man, picture of white woman. you can see where this goes.
and in the end, the conclusion, “you see how our subconscious biases can influence our choices?” smug. how do i see that? my subconscious biases? didnt this exercise start with what i thought OTHERS would choose? what does my awareness of the biases and stereotypes in our society have to do with my thoughts and feelings? isnt the program assuming that i am complicit then? this exercise doesnt demonstrate my biases but rather my awareness of how fucked up the larger culture is.
but the exercise proceeds that i am an accomplice. that i am already guilty and that we need to fix it. and here’s how. in other words, it’s a set up.
and i had said this in the context of the larger conversation we’ve been having. but obviously not. it was repeated during the conference call between my direct, my MD and HR. it was used against me.
and now all i’m thinking about is bailing. all i’m thinking about how, a week and a half AFTER my apology tour, i have to make one final act of contrition. i have to bring it all up again and apologize for the meme during our team meeting. all i’m thinking about is the times i’ve been cursed at. all i’m thinking about is the teasing and mockery i’ve received and how i laughed it off. because i am not stupid. because i am very fucking aware of power dynamics and how the very bullying that the training covered to avoid is being enacted right here. what a joke.
p.s. in the second round of training, i was given what i am assuming was the harder california version, which included people in transition. it also included an exercise where the choices i was given were impossible to chose from. they were all sarcastic or rude. the training was 2hrs. i finished it in 48 minutes with a score of 100. fuck them.

she asks, Why do you have to drink like that?
eh, bc i hurt. bc i am a disappointment. it’s rare that i drink. it’s not even once a week, it’s like once a month. i dont know what to tell you. i’m still angry. this life is leaving me. i’ve accomplished nothing that i ever wanted to. i am not a writer. i am not a fantastic husband. i am a bumbling father. you said it yourself: what have i done to make our kids extraordinary? nothing. bc i am not extraordinary. and i wanted to be. i wanted to be so much. i wanted to do so much. and i’m not talking fame. i’m not talking money. it’s like when you write a sentence: the first word is impossible. Where to begin? Infinite possibilities, so many to choose from. But then you choose one. Half of the possibilities are gone. You start with one word and you cannot start again. You choose one word to begin with and the next word cannot be so many others. And with each word of this life sentence, your options become fewer and fewer. Each choice limits what can come next. Until everything is exhausted. Until you get to the end. Full stop.