My Son

No one truly knows what another person is thinking. We spend our lives often masking emotions, thoughts and perceptions just to stay aligned with what’s the acceptable way.

My son walked onto a boat dock two evenings ago, got on his boat, drove into the ocean and never returned.

As his father I am terribly sad, angry, defeated and devastated. The past two days have been two of the longest to endure. I keep wishing I knew what he was thinking, I keep replaying our interactions or lack thereof, I keep wondering why this happened. This seems like shit you see on TV, this isn’t stuff that happens to real people like me and my family … but yet it’s real.

My son wasn’t a huge baseball fan growing up but yet he went to Phillies Phantasy Camp in 2017 with me, his mom, his brothers and sisters because he wanted to please my wish that we do that. He worked really hard to get in his best playing shape despite having years of back pain. He played right field on our team, my younger son pitched, my son in law played shortstop and I played first base. My wife, daughters and daughter in laws went as fans. We went two years in a row. I was so so proud of them all. I remember a very high fly ball to right field, Matt Stairs like high, hit to Danny, Nolan and I looked at each other when the batter hit it, Danny went after it, got under it and caught it! I was beaming with joy for him, what may have seen like not a big deal to others was a huge deal - I knew how he practiced to participate and on that play he was perfect. He was selected as star of the game that day.

But life’s not perfect … when a country elects a regime that systematically eliminates jobs often without factual or reasoned merit it’s far from perfect. My son’s job, my son the Marine who was trained in the Corps to do that job

, had his job eliminated by self righteous bureaucrats. It sent him into an emotional roller coaster that spiraled and had depressed import into how he got to the state of mind where he was two nights ago. It was not the only factor but it indeed was a major one.

As I type this note I am trying to get past the numbness I feel. I am trying to remember the happy times for my son, he loved his time in the Marines, he met his wife while a Marine and loved her and his two boys they had together. There were many joyous days in his life. He loved fishing and going out on his boat, it’s not something I shared with him however others did and he told me stories of his experiences, it was a source of pride for him, a true passion. He had a sense of humor and a laugh that when he was joyful enveloped you to join in its embrace. He loved watching the Eagles and was the first person I called when they finally won a Super Bowl, he was so happy. My son always rooted for the wide receivers and never saw them as divas - from TO to AJ he always sided with them in their importance to the equation. He understood the importance of team, perhaps from having it embedded in him as a Marine.

He disliked school growing up and we had our collective struggles getting thru it, he joined the Marines after graduating. I was never so proud of him when he graduated from boot camp at Paris Island. He was so fit, disciplined and mannerly, all of the Marine traits carried with him thereafter. When he was in basic training we began to correspond by mail, it was perhaps the closest we ever became as I would send him jokes, he would tell me of the happenings and I would offer my encouragement to get thru it. He wrote me about how on one occasion he was disciplined by his drill instructor for smiling. The instructor got in his face and told him to wipe the smile off and what did he think was so funny! He asked for permission to speak which was granted and he promptly said that there was nothing the drill instructor could make him do that his father hadn’t already tried … in his correspondence he enlightened me how much of a mistake the drill instructor made of that statement. We used to laugh about it when remembering.

In this age of social media we continued to correspond but in the form of texts. We would interact on just about every Phillies or Eagles game, his mom would text with him about his photography and things they had common interest in. Just this evening she was reminiscing and reading their texts - she saved them all - dating back ten years.

It’s just we never talked or texted or knew about things that were bothering him. We didn’t know he was struggling … till it was too late.

We’ve suffered a tremendous loss in our lives. While I appreciate the condolences and thoughts of prayer I’m not a religious person. While I appreciate the meaning of “stay strong” at the same time releasing my emotions is the strongest way I can be, holding them back to be what’s deemed proper is bullshit. While I appreciate the thoughts of well being when folks say it will be all right or ok it’s truly not right or ok, my wife and I have lost our son, my daughter in law lost her husband, our grandchildren their father, my other kids their brother, etc. It’s not all right or ok … it’s different and that’s something we must collectively move forward with.

No one truly knows what another person is thinking. I wish I knew what he was thinking when he walked onto that boat for the last time, I wish I could have stopped him. But I didn’t and I couldn’t so over the coming days, months and years it’s gonna take a bit to deal with it. We loved our son, we still do … can only hope that he knew that.