Hear Me

My autumn walk, and a struggle against the stone

2011-01-27T11:17:00.000-06:00

I was digging through some files this week, and came across this little piece that I wrote in the fall of ’09. I recall that when I picked up my pen that morning, I didn’t really know what I was going to write about. So I wrote the line “I went for a walk yesterday…”, and let the rest just happen. By no means is it profound, but I wasn't going for profound. I was simply seeking a chance to organize and capture my thoughts. Interestingly enough a lot of things in here are things that I still think about. One thing should be noted though, before you read it: I love my life. I am more fulfilled in my role as a husband and father than I ever imagined I’d be, and wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not once have I wistfully wished for days gone by. That being said, there are definitely times when – like many others, I imagine – I struggle under the burden of life. If not for my beautiful wife and amazing children, very little would have meaning for me. And if not for the sustaining grace of my Lord I would be lost, a rudderless ship in the fog.

My Autumn Walk

I went for a walk yesterday. I had a lot on my mind, and of all months, October is my favorite walking month. There’s enough beauty to coax me outside, and enough chill to keep me walking briskly. And there’s sort of a balancing act between life and death. The colors feel more like life than those of spring and summer. And yet, there is a quiet sense of… something. Not life, I suppose. Perhaps it’s waning life, or that blissful moment just before sleep. Yes, I think that’s it.

So: my walk. There are enough leaves on the ground to make me notice, and enough wind to make the leaves run. If I’m thinking about something else, in the corner of my mind I’m imagining that the leaves are moving on their own; going somewhere of their own volition. They seem so determined… so rushed. They stop, as if they’re thinking about where to go next, then they resume their journey. I find myself with sort of a wistful feeling in the back of my mind; a bit of leaf envy. When I was a child, I envied birds on account of their ability to fly. Now I’m envying leaves simply because they’re not tied down. My, how far I’ve come.

So, I look closer. And in looking closer at these leaves, here is what I notice: Invariably, they stop moving forward. Something – a tree, a fence, a stone – something blocks their path, and they stop. They don’t stop moving, no. In fact, their movements continue almost as if they’re frantically trying to free themselves. And watching the struggle (which most likely will end with the leaf staying put), something occurs to me. The leaves aren’t really free, or untethered. They’re moving, yes… sometimes even moving for a long distance. But they’re driven. Driven by the wind. They’re not driving. I’m envying this leaf, until I realize how much we have in common. They fall from a tree, sort of dropped into the world, and they’re travelling before they even hit the ground. Running to something? Running from something? Running. They hit obstacles, and the only thing that frees them is the wind, which they can’t control. They are the classic picture of a victim of circumstance.

I think perhaps I’m drawn now by a sense of subconscious empathy. I go for a walk to free myself; I walk to chew on my problems, to try and wrap my thoughts around issues that seem too big for me. My autumn walk is my struggle against the stone.

And then I realize: here is where I’m separated from my leaf-brethren. I’ve been given the gift of choice. I’m surprised and ashamed by how often I choose the way of the leaf; surprised by how often I choose the passenger seat. In a sense, this leaf – the leaf I envied for it’s freedom – this leaf frees me. It reminds me of my ability to choose.

I’m expected to move forward; all around me people are moving forward. In an effort to conform, more often than not I choose to bow before the wind and fly. But living on purpose… although it’s sometimes awkward and slow, it’s the only thing that’s actually living, isn’t it? Running before the wind may look impressive from a distance, graceful for a time. But it ends with an unsuccessful struggle against the stone. No, I think I’m going to exercise my ability to choose. And I refuse to choose the struggle against the stone.

I choose to go for a walk, and think.

I'm allergic to your face

2010-10-01T07:56:00.003-05:00

Ah, brothers.

I never had one, but I've got some experience in the role, and I can tell you: sometimes we say and/or do things that are nothing short of... well, mean. Particularly when it comes to the way we interact with our siblings, or our family in general.

A lot of people have written about the “why” behind this, but that’s not really what’s on my mind this morning. For the moment, let's just say that my hall of shame in regard to things I wish I could take back, things I wish I'd never said... the list is topped by things I've said or done to hurt someone in my family.

And my sons... my sons... as amazing and beautiful and intelligent as they are, they haven't escaped this particular human trait.

A few weeks ago, I walked into the room just in time to hear Joey (age 6) say to his younger brother, "...actually Bobby, I'm allergic to your face." Bobby (an itchy, sneezing, kind-hearted boy who actually suffers from several real allergies and most likely assumes that one can indeed develop allergies to another person's face) didn't seem to realize that was really intended as a slight. I corrected Joey in the moment, told him that it simply isn't kind to say things like this, and moved on. A few days later, however, things sort of came to a head...

Joey said some things that weren't very kind (involving liberal usage of the word "stupid"), and Heather overheard. In the conversation that followed, he confessed that he had actually been complaining about his little brother to some neighborhood friends, and in the process of his complaint, had said some more unkind things about his brother, even written some of them down in a note that he passed to Bobby. (Luckily, little Bobby can't yet read.) He was sent to his room to ponder his transgressions, and was waiting there for me when I returned home from the office. He was penitent, and had actually shed some tears of regret. We talked about his day, and he shared his burden with me: that he doesn't know where the feelings come from, and it’s frustrating, but he simply doesn't like playing with his little brother anymore. I allowed him to vent, and then we had a conversation about what to do with these feelings. I think the conversation has some value outside of sibling conflict, so I'm going to tap out the main points.

We all have feelings that we can't predict. Sometimes these feelings may lead to us saying or doing things that are inconsistent with what we know to be kind and right. So often, we allow our actions to be dictated by our feelings, don't we? At times this is a very positive thing: we look at someone, our heart is overwhelmed with the feeling of love, and we do something kind or generous to show it. That's wonderful. But what happens when the feeling isn't there? We all know about this. What happens when you realize that the only feelings you get when you look at your little brother are frustration and disdain?

I’m going to digress a bit here. I didn't mention this to Joey, but perhaps this is one reason why the divorce rate is so high these days. Perhaps there are far too many people who make the decision to marry based on their feelings... the magical butterflies in the stomach, the accelerated heartbeat. It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it? But if that's all you've got, what happens 5 years later when you're in the middle of a fight? Where is the feeling? It's notably absent, actually replaced by different feelings which prompt a different set of actions, which create more conflict. When asked why they divorced, so many people say "we just didn't love each other anymore." They're probably right, in more ways than they realize. They stopped loving each other (the feeling was gone), so they stopped LOVING each other... love had ceased to be a “verb” in their relationship.

The feeling of love, as I mentioned, is an amazing thing. It's one of the strongest emotions we can experience, perhaps the strongest. But it doesn't begin to compare to the power of love as an action. I firmly believe that our feelings fall in line behind our actions. Think about it: if our feelings are tied to the actions of those around us (say, an annoying little brother), then we have no real control over how we feel on a daily basis. We weren't created to be that helpless. If we allow our feelings to govern our actions, it seems that we are putting the cart before the horse. Here's the scenario I gave to Joey D:

These feelings of frustration and irritation with his little brother, we compared them to a big, ugly, mean, growling dog (that worked for him... I think it perfectly captured what was going on inside him). Unkind actions and words, they're like a big bone you might throw to this dog. The dog is demanding that Joey feed it, and the only food it wants are the unkind actions displayed toward Bobby. But what happens then? Is the dog satisfied? No, it's not. Joey caught on right away, pointing out that the bone would only make the dog bigger. And then tomorrow, what happens? It's a bigger dog, and it wants another bone. A bigger bone. And the problem progresses until your actions are completely dictated by the big, ugly, mean, growling dog inside you. So, what to do? I proposed to Joey that he might consider refusing to act harshly and unkindly when he feels that dog growling inside him... that instead he might exercise love, the action. Love, the verb. He was quick to mention that if the growling dog goes unfed, it will get smaller, and smaller, and then just go away. I agreed. He determined that he would purposely act kindly toward his brother whenever he felt that sense of frustration, to make sure that he wasn’t feeding the dog a bone. More on that in a moment.

Here enters my personal thought about love the action vs. love the feeling. Early in my marriage, I found that my wife wasn't perfect. I already knew that I wasn't, but I was surprised that occasionally I would find myself annoyed by little things she would do. Things like leaving the closet door open (I told you, these were very little things). So I mentioned to her - kindly - that I'd like it if she would remember to close the closet door. She did. Sometimes. Okay, rarely. These are the typical little things that make the first year of marriage a learning experience. You have 2 people who have been living alone, learning to live together. Simple as that.

So one morning, I woke up and walked into the bathroom, only to find the closet door open again. And I felt this feeling of frustration in my chest, more than anything else from the fact that my request wasn't important enough to elicit a considerate response. I wondered if this was why married people seemed to bicker a lot. Little things. I wasn’t satisfied to just ask again. It didn’t seem to be the proper resolution, and it actually didn’t seem considerate on my part. Then I was struck by a thought:

“… love covers a multitude of transgressions.”

I think in my mind, when I used to think of that concept, love had always been a noun. A big, pink, soft, blankety noun, billowing out over a random pile of transgressions. But on this morning, it struck me that perhaps - in this case - love needed to be a verb. Actually moving to cover something. And I decided to close the closet door. Make no bones about it: I was still irritated, still feeling a little frustrated as I reached out to close the door. What happened next, I’ll never forget. I remember the moment so clearly: where I was standing, the lighting in the room… like it was yesterday. Almost instantaneously, my mood changed. The feelings of frustration and irritation, they just disappeared. In their place I discovered this swelling sense of love – the feeling – that simply hadn’t been there even 10 seconds before.

The event above prompted a series of experiments. In many, varied situations, I tested this idea of the power of love the verb. And over the course of time I learned that my emotional response was consistent when I chose to exercise love as an action. My feelings fell in line behind my actions. The other side of this experiment was in moments when I had the opportunity to put the interests of my wife before my own. There was no transgression or frustration involved, but it was still a chance for me to choose love for my wife over love of myself. Kind of funny when the scenario is “pizza or Chinese food for dinner?” Funny, but the result is no less powerful. My feelings of love for my wife were considerably stronger immediately following my actions of love for her.

That was a long time ago… 7 years or so. To this day I’ve found this simple practice to be one of the most powerful tools in building a loving marriage. I truly do love (the feeling) my wife more today than I did when I said “I do”. And my vision is clearer. I can see what a blessed man I am, that I was given the honor of loving and caring for this amazing, beautiful woman. I married up, believe me.

As for Joey D and his allergies to his little brother’s face, I have an update. We had our little conversation several weeks ago. I’ve waited to post this until I had time to observe Joey’s response over a period of time. The difference in the way he interacts with Bobby is spectacular. I’ve asked him a couple times about what we discussed that evening, and he has been able to illiterate the details of our topic very clearly. It’s obviously something he’s been thinking about and applying, and the kindness and softness have returned to their relationship.

And just this week, I found a note in Joey’s handwriting, in which he told his little brother that he loved him. I almost cried. =) It’s a little thing, that note. But the moment it was written, that moment when my Joey D reached out for his pencil, in that moment of silence when the lead was scratching across the paper... love was a verb.

Where are you...

2010-08-28T09:15:00.002-05:00

Last time I updated this blog, I had a 3 year old boy and a 1 year old boy. I said something about my "annual update". Well, so much for annual updates. The mystery that is time has changed my 3 year old into a 6 year old, my 1 year old into a 4 year old, and dropped a baby girl into our life. I'm not going to begin to try and fill in the last 3 years for you. Actually, those of you who actually kept up with this blog (the Faithful Four) have seen my kiddos over the years and know what's happened. Some of you see us more often now than you used to, even.

So, rather than talk about the past, let's talk about the now.

I love Heather more now than I did then, if that's possible. We're in St Louis. Our roster of children is as follows: Joey D (6). Bobby (4, in two days). Ruby Jane (6 months, with the hair of a rebellious 15 year old who may or may not live in a trailer park).

This blog used to serve as a good outlet for exorcising my thoughts. I still have thoughts (gasp), and although there are other outlets (lately a pen and paper has been a favorite of mine, but random conversations with Heather, a couple friends, and various strangers have also proven to be useful and effective), I think it's time to scratch out some thoughts on this here blog. And so I will.

I woke up this morning, and went into to Ruby Jane's room to change her. A grin and a full-body wiggle expressed her mood, and cleared my mind like no cup of coffee ever has. Recently, she's developed an affinity for playing peek-a-boo. Coincidentally, I also enjoy a good game of peek-a-boo, so within a couple minutes we found ourselves engaged in a lively match.

As I heard myself saying the words, "where's Ruby Jane? THERE she is...", my mind was turning the phrase over and wondering what it is about this game that is so attractive and delightful. I think I've come to a conclusion, beyond the obvious. Obviously, I love to see my little girl smile; the smile is The Thing. So when she smiles at me after each "...there she is!", my heart leaps. A natural high, it is.

But there's something more at play here... another layer. For a brief moment in the middle of a good game of peek-a-boo, I lose sight of my child, and she loses sight of me. We're disconnected, if only for a matter of seconds. And I wonder, what else is it that kicks me into that "natural high"? Is it the smile alone, or is it the reconnection? I love - no, I need - to find my children. It's part of my DNA, part of being a parent. Whether in the fleeting moment of a game of peek-a-boo, or the terrifying minutes when I lose sight of them at the park, the moment when I find them makes my heart leap. The clean edges of those moments make them easy to recognize, easy to remember. But the truth of it is, with the distractions of life constantly buzzing around my head, I'll admit that there are entire days when I'm not connected. I interact, but I don't engage. Without realizing it, I've lost sight of my children, and allowed them to lose sight of me. And then something happens, something wakes me up, and I realize - sometimes frantically - that I have to find my family. My children are eager to reconnect, like Ruby Jane, waiting with anticipation for me to wake up and say "where are you... THERE you are!" And in that moment, there is nothing else. Just us. It's as if someone has just passed smelling salts under my nose, and I see my children clearly...

I see Joey D and his analytical mind, always ready to have a conversation about the why, about what is behind the curtain or beneath the surface. I see Bobby, who has his mother's imagination and joy, who is usually in character as a dinosaur, or Darth Vader. I see my Ruby Jane, who is taking everything in and seems to love every minute of life, and is obviously gearing up to give Thing 1 and Thing 2 a run for their money.

And then the joy in my heart moves over to make room for the shame that comes because I've allowed the peripherals of life to cloud my vision. I'm blessed that children are forgiving, that my wife is patient. I feel for those who wake up too late, who wake up to find that those they seek have grown, or have gone.

I'm grateful that the Lord brings these things to mind while I'm playing peek-a-boo with my girl... gentle nudges to keep me awake.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find my children.

My annual update...

2007-12-12T20:22:00.000-06:00

I'm a bit delayed in updating this; it's been exactly a year since I posted pictures last. I apologize to the 3 of you who actually look at this.

Joey is 3, and is somewhat of a paradox. He thinks through things deeply, and shocks me with some of his speculations. On the other hand, he's spent more than one pre-school recess in the Principal's Office. Never mean or malicious, just likes to make the other kids laugh (remember who his parents are). I love our big boy so much.

Bobby turned 1 on 8/30/07, and is quite a Daddy's Boy. He learned to walk about 2 months ago, but still prefers the 50 mph crawl. Although today I found him walking across the living room... when he saw me he actually let loose this sort of deep, throaty, half-fake laugh he has and dropped to his knees. Almost like he walks when we're not around.

We spent some time in Florida in September, and the boys got to hang out with Mickey Mouse, and most importantly, the original Frederick Joseph Dufek.

My Grandfather had actually never met Bobby, so this was a special visit. Bobby had also never been to the beach, so it was an exciting day!

Disney was magical. It was the boys' second time, and definitely the best.

Hear Me

2007-01-04T10:30:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting in the library down the road from my store... wishing my wife and boys were here to have lunch with me before my afternoon meeting. I don't do so well when they're gone; I pretty much just stay at the store and don't eat very well. Although I think I got things off on the right foot last night: a Veggie Sub with extra onions and banana peppers for dinner didn't exactly make me friends, but I felt good about myself.

A Day at the Fair

2006-12-12T14:15:00.000-06:00

Last month, the NC State Fair came to Raleigh. It wasn't Joey's first time, but it was definitely more fun for him now that he's a big kid. It was a whirlwind day, and since we don't usually give him much sugar at all, he was rather buzzed by sundown. Hey, it's the Fair. =)

It took him a little while to relax and not take everything so seriously. On the rides his face was such that you would think the world was depending on him to complete this one task so that the human race could go on living.

Obviously, he loosened up eventually.

2006-12-12T14:02:00.000-06:00

Update coming, with a little "what's new" on the boys and life around the Dufek house. Our friend Tammy is coming over to take some pictures of the boys, and I'll post them as soon as I can.

A little updating necessary

2006-10-03T18:33:00.000-05:00

So I don't have any new pics to put up right now. Shameful parenting, you say. Have patience with me, it's all I can do to keep my eyes open as I type this.

We brought Bobby in for a weight check this week. We had been a little worried, because he seemed to have lost weight between his 1 and 2 week checkups. Turns out, we had nothing fret over: the scale was broken, and he's in the 90th percentile for his weight. Currently weighing in at 11lbs, 2.5oz, he has mentioned to us that he's considering the Raleigh-Durham Sumo Circuit, but we cautioned him against it. I would rather he put on a few more pounds and just make his debut on the national level.

Heather is doing well, and I have to say, I am so proud of her. Every day I am reminded of just how blessed I am to have this family with her... the poise and patience with which she parents our boys is astounding.

More later; with some pics, I promise.

Visit from the Andersons

2006-09-05T18:15:00.000-05:00

This weekend, our friends Keith and Erin came over with their lovely little girl Ana. I think Bobby enjoyed the visit, although he didn't see fit to wake up while they were there. We're grateful for Keith, though... these are the best pictures of Bobby we have so far.

Bobby had a Dr. appointment today, and they are very happy with how he's doing. Weight gain is what it should be, and he's not quite as yellow as he was. =) He was wide awake at the Dr.'s office; he actually seemed at ease once he realized there were no needles involved.

A Lazy Saturday

2006-09-02T19:56:00.000-05:00

Heather has been catching up on some well deserved sleep today, and we had some guests. It was the first clear day we've had in a while, but it was still nice to just relax at the house. I think Bobby's sleepiness is catching on around here. =)

Bobby had his first bath at home, and he seemed drowsily interested in it. He had a far away look in his eye, like it reminded him of something...

There's a new kid in town

2006-09-01T21:09:00.000-05:00

So, our Joey has a brother.

"Table for four."
"Four tickets, please."
"These are my sons."
"What's your minimum for a group discount?"

I never really imagined myself saying those words. Two boys is more than I could have wished for.

So it is with great pride and much joy that I announce that... Robert Elliott was born on August 30, at 6:59 pm EST. At 8lbs 3oz, he was almost 1 lb heavier than his brother, yet almost an inch shorter at 20.5".

Mother and son are doing wonderfully, and we're home now. Heather was amazing during the delivery; I am convinced that she is the strongest woman alive. Less than 2 hours of labor, and about 8 minutes of pushing.

I'm sure I'll have much to say on this matter; there's a lot boiling around in my mind. Not much of it is profound, but I'm sure you'll be impressed by some of it. Suffice it to say than my awe for life and it's Creator has been renewed. I've been blessed with much to laugh about, and I've done my share of crying. But I can't remember a time when I laughed or cried as hard as I did when I laid my eyes on my second son.

As you can see, he sleeps quite a bit. I guess after lazing around for 9 months it takes more than a few days to break the habit. H says that Joey was the same way. How soon we forget.
More pics will follow, but I wanted to get things up and running.

Cruising Together

2006-09-01T20:29:00.000-05:00

Heather and I had time to take a little vacation this past spring, knowing that once Bobby joined us, we wouldn't really have much time for that. We spent five days plus a little on board the "Celebration", and spent a day each in Key West and Nassau, Bahamas. It was great, and very relaxing. Most of our time was spent just laying in the sun reading. I didn't set foot in a pool, and only went into the water in Key West for about 2 minutes.

Nothing quite like the taste of key lime pie blended with a hand rolled cigar. Strolling around Key West with the hottest woman on the island on my arm, frozen key lime pie on a stick in one hand, and a cigar hanging out of my mouth, it was evident to all who saw me that I owned the place. I felt like Al Capone. In board shorts.

Heather was pretty far along in her pregnancy during this vacation. So, if you have visions in your head of every cruise passenger rock climbing and horseback-riding on the beach by day, then drinking themselves senseless by night, please remove us from your visions. We found the cruise to be very enjoyable, and we didn't lose our life savings in the casino ($70 in 15 minutes was enough). We found plenty of time to snorkel and walk around the ports of call when we weren't sleeping in the sun. Besides, who would pay to drink themselves into oblivion when you can eat yourself there for free? By the way, we waited for everyone else to get 3 or 4 drinks into them before we hit the karaoke bar. And when we did, we were the greatest act that boat had ever seen.

The Eldest of the NC Dufeks

2006-09-01T19:46:00.000-05:00

Joey is our first born. Born on 6/11/04, he has made the last 2 years the best of my life. I thought I knew what to expect with this whole fatherhood thing. I had no idea how much joy it would bring me.
Joey and I love to watch some ball, and I have to say, I'm raising him up well. No matter what sport is on tv, no matter who's playing, he's shouting "go Yankees" and "swing batta". Got to lay a solid foundation.

So, Joey likes to drive. The cool thing about this pic (aside from the fact that he makes pink look ultra-masculine) is that the ride he is sitting in isn't turned on. Call it what you want, but Heather and I are committed to protecting our kids from the disappointment that hits when the ride is over. So, the ride never ends. He could sit in there for 5 times longer than the rest of the kids who are preconditioned to feel sad after 90 seconds of bumping and bouncing. Pretty smart, we think. =)

In reality, I look at my son and think, "this is how I am affecting the world".
My life is far from over, but I know that a big part of who I am is about raising my sons to do more in their lifetime than I can do in mine. They will choose what they are passionate about. But I'll be darned if they ever believe that they can't do whatever they set their minds to.