The Time We Spend Together

The soft tapping sound of a brand new Wilson football hitting my fingers was the soundtrack for a life change that came as suddenly as it did quietly. As I looked across the front yard eyeing my next throw at the brand new receiver before me, my mind was swinging back and forth between two competing dialogues:

1)24 hours ago, I didn’t even know this kid now living in my upstairs guest room. How did this even happen?

2)How do I connect with him? And do I have what it takes to help him navigate all the challenges and obstacles before him?

For that one moment on a cloudy late afternoon a few days before Christmas, this game of catch on our sleepy cul-de-sac was like medicine for both of our souls. While my world had certainly just undergone a seismic shift, his change was easily more dramatic. And traumatic. At least I had the chance to mentally prepare, knowing this day was eventually coming.  But it was a different story for the boy already weathered by life storms no kid his age should have to endure. The ramifications of drug abuse and neglect by a parent. Then being passed around from one relative to the next, all doing their best to try and fill the void before they finally surrendered him to foster care on the weekend of his 13th birthday. A slow decline that ultimately led to the complete collapse of his entire world.

Pow. “Good throw. Back it up a little.” My mind flashed back to what that milestone day looked like for me three decades earlier. I remember a dinner out with my family, an Ohio State Starter jacket, and a look of pride from my parents. I tried to remember everything about that day, how it looked and sounded, the loving reassurance from those who meant the most to me at a stage that is as hard as any to navigate for any boy on the beginning of his way to manhood. It seemed incomprehensible to me that such a landmark moment could be marred and stained in that way. I looked across at my new house guest but didn’t have any words of wisdom. Just a silent prayer for God to help me and him with the subtle whirr of a pigskin cutting through the air.

“Try going over the top and step into it. You may get a little more zing on it.” Leilani and I had been waiting for this day for many years now. It seemed impossible to get to this point with one delay after another trying to stop us from our ultimate goal of becoming parents, a story still in progress that will have to be told for another time. We had exactly two hours’ notice they were coming, news that came on the heels of back-to-back disappointments where we had patiently waited for other kids to come through the door, only to learn they were being redirected elsewhere at nearly the last possible moment. Then just as suddenly this 13-year-old boy and his 8-year-old sister were right there in our living room next to the Christmas tree. Words don’t do justice for the sheer joy my wife and I felt at that moment, yet there was a dilemma inside both of us knowing that for these two kids there was no holiday magic, just confusion and another heartbreak for all that was happening. Welcome to foster care.

“Run by the mailbox then hook left. I’ll hit you.” Christmas of course was unforgettable. For one day at least, these kids were able to put aside all that had happened and fully immerse themselves in the joy of all that day brought. We probably went overboard on the presents wanting to make up for lost time, but no regrets. It was a December 25th like no other. I took our boy to his first ever football game a few days later, watched him switch sides to the eventual winner in the middle of the game, and laughed at his choice of a mega-sized ice cream dessert I promised for doing his homework on both teams leading up to the game. I love taking our girl up the stairs for her nightly “train ride” on my shoulders, love hearing her laugh as she beats Leilani and I at another game of UNO. A few nights ago we asked them what their favorite memory was since they’ve gotten here. I fully expected to hear something about one of the presents, or maybe one of the experiences we took them on. “The time we spend together as a family.” It caught me off guard, and I bit my lip to maintain my composure.

A few days later we found ourselves in the courtroom for a hearing. My wife had diligently put together a document that outlined their progress, all the things we’ve done together, the different focus and improvement areas for each child, and a variety of photographs that captured our time together over the last month. The judge and the kids’ attorney nodded and winked. I looked at each of those pictures, the kids smiling, my wife beaming, and couldn’t believe just how much my life had changed over the course of four weeks. 

A few more folks had shuffled in behind us and then out of the corner of my eye I caught the kids returning from a restroom break and running from the side entrance, not to us, but to a group sitting a few rows behind us. I turned and watched as they embraced one parent who has abandoned them time and again, an untold number of opportunities to turn it around and untold number of promises that are never followed through on. They were firmly camped by her side, laughing, smiling, telling jokes as if all was right in the world and the last few years had never happened. This time I bit my lip for a different reason. Though we certainly understood the connection, it was still incredibly awkward. The sting was real. 

This same scene repeated itself a few minutes later when their biological father, who has been absent and out of the picture for several years now, showed up unexpectedly as we later learned he would like another shot at being their dad, a process that we are told is a long shot and would likely take years assuming no setbacks or relapses, but could leave the kids’ fate hanging in the balance for the foreseeable future.  Our girl had acknowledged that she doesn’t have a lot of memories with him, doesn’t really know much about him at all. And there he was, twirling her in the air and playing magic tricks while imparting some type of life advice to our boy who hadn’t seen him since who knows when. 

We sat and watched from afar, looking at how happy these kids looked with people who had long abandoned them to the world at such critical ages. We read the file and knew the stories, had been advised of the level of pain and trauma that was in play.  “Is this type of reaction normal?” I asked someone who had a lengthy track record in family court. “Yes. They’re clinging to a dream and will hold on as long as they can. Just keep loving them every day.” They were quiet on the ride home and cranky the rest of the day. Welcome to foster parenting.

This new way of life brings many new challenges, but we’re not turning back. It’s messy and hard, and you’re always in over your head. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I only wish more people knew just how urgent the need is for people to step in and rescue foster kids. In some counties, there are ten foster kids for every one parent. But stepping up doesn’t necessarily even mean becoming a foster parent. The need for healthy ecosystems and networks that support and stand behind foster families is just as vital. If God leads you to help in any capacity, I know you’ll be blessed.

“It’s getting dark out here. Let’s head on in after a few more throws.” My mind is back to day two and the new pigskin has been now properly christened. There’s not been a lot of conversation, but the quietness has been welcome to both of us. A light rain begins to fall and I see some of the Christmas lights up the street beginning to pop on. This scene will stay with me forever, but not because anything remarkable happened. Something in me has been touched in a deep way, yet I can’t put words to it. Just their words echoing in my mind, “it’s the time we spend together.”

For You Buster

He was so small that you could hold him while cupping your hands together, yet he took the leash attached to his tiny neck and grabbed it with his teeth. Buster was going to take himself for a walk, and apparently I was just along for the ride. Our friendship had officially begun.

I sat back in my car and felt the tears well up in my eyes. And if I'm being honest, they fell down my cheek too. You see it was eleven years later now, and I had to say goodbye to my buddy a little sooner than I expected. For just a moment I was back in that shelter where we picked out a black dog with the friendly eyes and Yoda ears. We picked him out on a hunch. Maybe you've been there too, different details, but the same story. You never think at the time that they'll find their way into your heart forever, but it happens, and it happened.

I don't have enough space or time to pay a proper tribute to Buster. The quick version is that I was home that summer for a few months after graduating college, so I got to have a vote on who the next family dog would be. I remember holding him in the back seat on the way home and getting hit with the unexpected feeling of awe by the power of new life. He was shy with people he didn't know at first, a trait he would carry for the rest of his life. And for the first few hours at least I was viewed with suspicion by the pint-sized guy. But he warmed up pretty quick after we found a tug rope that belonged to his new older dog brother, Sammy. Sammy was 3 years older and towered over Buster at the same time, but Buster put his mouth on one end and waited for Sammy to oblige. Finally a small, but gentle, tug came from Sammy, as if he didn't know what to make of the new guy who seemed to be ignorant of how things worked in this house. Little did he know that the little pup would grow up and eventually throttle him to the point that Sammy no longer wanted to play tug.

Days turn into weeks and months and years. I moved out that fall and started my career. I came home for Christmas and awoke to the strange sensation of something tickling my leg. I sat up to find Buster nibbling on my sweatpants, staring straight down, yet wagging his tail enthusiastically the whole time. I was quickly informed that this was an idiosyncrasy that belonged to this particular dog, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.  Came home again next summer and decided to do a sprint workout in an empty field not far from my house. My parents insisted that I should take Buster, saying he could run like the wind and would not stray. I didn't believe it till I saw it, and outside of a greyhound, he was as fast as any dog I've ever seen. Sleek yet all muscle. I also learned that this athletic ability could not be confined by the fence around the house I grew up in as he would simply climb his way up by doing a bizarre dog-like pullup until he reached the top and then leap off. This was concerning to Sammy, who was driven mad by not having this ability yet longed to be free too.

More time passes as the years flow on. I come by periodically, always grateful and excited to see the friend who will nibble my pants as soon as I walk in the front door. I move a few times and so does my family. I meet a girl and bring her home for the holidays. That New Years Eve we learn that Buster can howl like a wolf if you can simulate a high-tone similar to a police or tornado siren. My brother Dan pulled this off, and needless to say he is an interesting guy. The girl becomes my wife later on. Leilani was not exactly fond of dogs up to that point due to some mitigating factors from the past, but her outlook changes when she meets Buster and Sammy. I believe the New Years Eve howling sealed the deal on another dog person being added in this world. Thanks buddy.

It's been two days now since Buster passed, and I miss him dearly. It was surprising because he was still in great shape all the way up to last week. A nasal tumor can change things quickly for even the healthiest of dogs. Sammy is still alive at 14, but arthritic and deaf. He looked to Buster for his cues once he lost his hearing. We always thought Sammy would have been the first to go, and I guess that's why I was a bit stunned. But the Lord works in mysterious ways.

I said goodbye to Buster over the phone early that morning. A few hours later in my car I just gave it all to God. If you've lost a pet, you know the unique grief I'm talking about. And in that moment, my heart clearly heard this: "He's a great dog Nick. It's okay, Buster is with me now, and I'm taking good care of him." I don't pretend to know the mysteries of heaven, but I know the voice of the one I follow. I'm grateful for all his creation, including the friend he gave me that grabbed my leash, nibbled my pants and touched my heart.

Still The One

He was the only shortstop I ever knew. From kindergarten all the way through my college years, Barry Larkin patrolled the left half of the infield in Cincinnati, establishing himself as one of the greatest major league shortstops who ever lived. So many others came and went, but for nineteen summers, Barry was always there. A childhood idol who truly stood the test of time, it all came full circle this week when number 11 was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame.

When I heard that Barry Larkin finally got his well-deserved ticket to Cooperstown, the memories started flooding back. Whether I was on the Little League diamond or in my own backyard, I wanted to play shortstop because of course, Barry was the shortstop. I studied and memorized everything, from the way he held the bat to the manner in which he inserted and disposed of chewing gum. Though my career fielding percentage did not quite match up to my hero's, I was convinced that Barry had made me a better infielder. Even in warmups you could tell there was something different about him, but not until later in life would I fully comprehend just how magnificent a ballplayer Barry Larkin was.

The numbers only tell part of the story. 12 All-Star games, 9 seasons above .300, 1 MVP and a World Series ring. There's also three Gold Gloves, which would have easily been closer to double digits had half of Larkin's career not overlapped with a shortstop/showman named Ozzie Smith. Few will argue that the Wizard of Oz was not the greatest *defensive* shortstop in history, but no one was closer to Ozzie than Barry. (.978 fielding percentage for Ozzie, .975 for Barry). Unlike Smith, number 11 didn't do backflips or charm sportswriters, one reason why his defensive prowess is often overlooked.

On offense, there was no comparison between Larkin and his contemporaries in the 1990's. Quick, name the number of major league infielders who have won more Silver Sluggers than Barry Larkin...Answer, exactly one (Alex Rodriguez-10, Barry Larkin-9). When you add in all positions, Larkin's Silver Slugger tally trails only A-Rod, Barry Bonds and Mike Piazza, all surefire Hall of Famers. The first shorstop to ever go 30-30, Larkin also was a perennial candidate in league leaders for stolen bases, walks and base hits. Did I mention he had a football scholarship to Michigan when the Wolverines were still a powerhouse? You could go on and on, but in a nutshell, it's hard to find a better all-around shortstop than the one from Cincy.

Just as impressively though, Barry Larkin was a true role model. He was a man of integrity, always put the team first, and never got into trouble off the field. He never boasted of his accomplishments or bashed other players or coaches. He taught himself Spanish so he could build a rapport with his Hispanic teammates, and never complained when he was benched in the twilight of his career. How lucky I and so many of my buddies were to have a hero who actually lived up to the hype.

I have a million and one Barry Larkin memories, but the one that stands out is the last memory I have of seeing him play while living in Cincinnati. It was 2003, and Lark was just a shadow of his former self. I had just graduated college and would be moving away in a few weeks, working at a local pizza joint before my real career began. I had some downtime in between deliveries and flipped on the game, with the Reds trailing the Cardinals by one run in the bottom of the 9th. An unexpected roar suddenly rose from the crowd as a now bench-ridden Larkin strolled to the plate, pinch-hitting with a runner on first and the game on the line.

He had played in less than half the games that season, and everyone knew the end was near. I was glued to the set, hoping that he could deliver one more time as the entire crowd rose to it's feet. And I'll never forget the sound of bat on ball. Incredible. It flew deep into the bleachers, sending the entire ballpark into pandemonium. Even on TV you could tell this was no ordinary roar. They weren't cheering for the end result, but for the man who was the heart and soul of Cincinnati baseball. The years seemed to fall off as Barry circled the bases with a grin, and right on cue, "Still The One" blared over the PA system (the 70's version by Orleans). Too good to be true, except it was. Too great of a player not to be saluted. Thanks Barry.

Now You Will See...

Sometimes things get worse before they get better. Let that one marinate for a little bit, and dig deep down into the well of experience that's called your life.

It was a little over two months ago when I was reading about the Israelites and their deliverance from Egypt. For those not familiar with the story, I'll spare the details and give a quick rundown: 1)Israel enslaved by Egypt after a new Pharoah takes the top job, 2)Hebrews are beaten, oppressed, killed by their slave masters, 3)God sends Moses to confront Pharoah and deliver his people from slavery into freedom.

I've likely read this Bible story hundreds of times in my life, but this time something I hadn't really paid much attention to jumped off the page and into my face. Things got a whole lot worse before they got better. Moses, the man of God, was given every tool in the arsenal to compel Pharoah to release the Israelites. Think "shock and awe" with the mere movement of a hand or staff. Besides literally hearing the voice of God, this guy had seen two different miraculous signs to help bolster his faith. You can't get much more of a confidence-builder or reassurance than that. But the fight was just beginning.

Moses then goes to Pharoah and tells him it's time to let the Lord's people go (Exodus 5:1). But Pharoah matter of factly says "No. I don't know the Lord, now get back to work" (Ex 5:2-4). On top of that, Pharoah also decides the slaves will now have to gather their own straw everyday, but still produce the same amount of bricks. Double the workload, with no payday and a bigger threat of a beatdown. Modern day translation: "Yeah, we just let go of Stan, so now you'll be doing his job on top of yours. By the way you won't be getting any extra help or extra pay, and if you want to keep this job and feed your family you better keep up with both positions and not drop off for a second."

I'm wondering right about now what Moses was thinking. I mean, God had promised him Pharoah was going to let the people go two chapters earlier! But Pharoah was no fool. He probably figured he would get rid of Moses by playing his own people against him and making him into the scapegoat for all their newfound trouble. Public opinion immediately goes south. "They found Moses and Aaron waiting to meet them and said, 'May the Lord look upon you and judge you! You have made us a stench to Pharoah and his officials and have put a sword in their hand to kill us." (Exodus 5:20-21)

Talk about going from bad to worse. The panic buttons are flashing, and the leaks are seemingly springing everywhere. Moses received a promise of deliverance, but now he's getting everything plus the kitchen sink thrown at him. If he was really the man that was supposed to open the doors to freedom, why would everyone be turning against him? What I like about Moses is that he doesn't care about being diplomatic, he lets it out and pulls no punches. "Is this why you sent me? Ever since I went to Pharoah to speak in your name, he has brought trouble upon this people, and you have not rescued your people at all." (Ex. 5:22-23)

To me, the key moment is right here. Moses had stepped out and was moving in the right direction. He did as God asked and confronted Pharoah. He was on the right path, the road to freedom. But opposition starts to rain down, then slam down. Things for Moses were temporarily getting worse, even though he was moving toward a better future. Then the reminder that it is indeed just temporary as God intervenes: "Now you will see what I will do to Pharoah. Because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country." (Ex. 6:1)

"Now you will see..." I don't know about you, but those four words stir something way down deep inside me. Like a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside all day. You probably know the rest of the story for Moses. God turns the tables, and pounds on Pharoah until he finally relents and freedom for Israel is not just hope but reality. So what about your story? I don't know what your circumstances are or what you may be facing at this moment in life. I haven't lived a long time compared to others, but I do know that sometimes things get worse before they get better. And it's only temporary. God does not disappoint, he always, always comes through even if it's not in the way we expect it. Sometimes you just have to hammer through the trail and keep moving. Because then you will see.

Autumn Roar

-You can hear the rumble coming from the jungle on the bank

-You can hear the helmets smashing with the fury of a tank

-Eleven warriors brave and bold, assassins dressed to kill

-In scarlet and gray they make their way, an iron-fisted will

-There's no smell like the Horseshoe on a late October day

-When Buckeyes roam and make it known whose house you're in today

-I've been down to the Bayou, where the noise can make you shake

-I've been to Auburn and T-Town too, where eardrums nearly break

-Knoxville competes with the decibel peak, Penn State and Georgia too

-But all go under to the sound of the thunder, that roars from the mighty Shoe

-The heart of it all, in your heart it still calls, there's only O-HI-O

-A noise that thrills and gives you chills, the one that conquers fall

The Rundown 11/21/10

Sometimes it takes a smack or two in the face or a punch in the gut to realize what's really going on. Anybody know what I'm talking about?

You're most awake when you're most aware of how close the danger is, and that's a good thing. Recently I'd been in this mundane daily routine when all of a sudden the hard knocks of life came knocking, and I knew the next step was to knock on God's door.

What is my mission and where do I take it next? These are some good questions to ask every now and then. Every warrior has a battleplan, and the training routine that goes with it. Flipping the routine every now and then is advisable as I have just been reminded. As far as the long-range mission, I may not see the entire map laid out, but as long as I see that little section unfolded just for today I know that he will direct my paths.

-Nick B. 11/21/10

News To Watch This Week:
-Big state political announcement happening tomorrow down in Montgomery. Republicans mopped the floor with the Democrats in the recent election, and the takeover may not be over yet. You'll see it everywhere in Alabama tomorrow, I prefer you see it on WHNT News 19.

-Lame Duck Session Of Congress Begins- If the Democrats are smart, they'll listen to the will of the people and not try to ramrod something through before the new Congress comes in in January. But don't put it past them. You may never have heard of the DREAM bill and how it relates to illegal immigration. Google and research it because this may come up before the current congress breaks for Christmas.

Sports to Watch:
-The Iron Bowl. Armageddon in the state of Alabama. Auburn has been on a dream ride for the entire autumn, but I think the weak "D" will finally be exposed. Ingram & Richardson could have big days and will control the clock. Cam Newton is facing the best defense he's seen all year, and the open creases may not be plentiful. Newton is the best player in this game, but I think Alabama just has a few more players in what should be a very good game. The Tide beats the Tigers 35-27.

-Big 10 Title-Coming down to the final weekend. Ohio State whips Michigan in The Game. Michigan State falls in Happy Valley to Penn State, and Wisconsin takes care of Northwestern. Badgers win the title and the Rose Bowl bid due to their win over the Buckeyes in October. The Big 10 is back and will be even better next year with Nebraska.

Odds & Ends:
-It's Thanksgiving week. It's a question of whether I can outeat my brother in the portions of turkey and pumpkin pie. Also, I turn 30. Have a good week everybody!

D-DAY

-The waves keep rolling in as they slowly envelop his pack

-Nineteen, long, and country strong, two bullets in his back

-He lays his head down on the sand, eyes closed reverently

-The breathing fades, and then it stops, this beach called Normandy

-You know, he was a baseball star, a prankster, and a son

-He's got a girl, he's got a dream, he'll always fish for fun

-A teardrop falls amid the surf, as I fathom this great cost

-See I am here and he is there, a lifetime that is lost

-While parents pack lunches, and the lucky play hunches, and liars bash our land

-I couldn't help but hear the words of a warrior in the sand:

-"My friend, I know you're wondering, what it is you must have done

-But please accept my gift to you, and know that one day answers will come

-There is no place like America, from sea to shining sea

-Your duty now is simply this: Live strong, live brave, be free"

-Nick Banaszak, 6/6/10

Dedicated to all those who fought at D-Day, and all others who have ever fallen for America