A Dad's Perspective

As any person who reads this blog already knows, I very rarely write. Like so many aspects of this adoption process, Jes takes most of it on and does it incredibly well! I just sit back in admiration and patiently wait. I just ate some delicious strawberries and a fist full of grapes. This whole process can be extremely difficult and certainly challenging on a relationship. It is very emotional and being a guy I don't always show my emotions in a predictable way. I think Liz Phair said it, "I am a complicated communicator". Until we received the picture of Ari, it all just seemed like money and paperwork to me. It was very difficult for me to get enthusiastic about those things. Thank God for Jes!! If I was in charge we'd still be working on the initial application. Tonight I feel like sharing some of my poetry with you all. It is the first time this stuff has ever been read by anybody but me and Jes, and in one case just me. Please be nice!


This first one I have been working on for more than five years. I'll be giving it to my sister Heather for her wedding present this January. I hope she doesn't read this and if you do and you know her, please don't tell her. It will accompany a Polaroid from when she and I were kids. We were in our pajamas and I was pulling her through the house in a little varnished wooden wagon. Here it is.

Red Sweat Suit

I remember a three year old girl,
Long silent hair chasing the small of her back.
She sat in a varnished wagon.

I pulled the handle
and the wheels turned.
We passed a white lace canopy,
Underneath the demonic red eyes stared at me too.

Thick wheels pushed plush beige carpet.
Barby Florey and the New Kids,
A silent smile erupted past the corners of her solemn mouth.

Thumping loudly in praise of brown ceramic,
Teeth sneered at grouted veins.
The floor refused the warmth,
and the wagon emanated solid gold rays of life.

We thumped while lighted record players pulsated,
and Blondie told us that the tide was high.
Red, yellow, green, yellow, green, red,
tongues of prophetic truth and textured plastic,
and the princess didn’t mind.

and we thumped.

Safely we passed by the baby blue Eden,
The warmth was piled safely in the pre-dawn,
Clouds escaping sliding glass doors protected by innocent tears.

and we thumped.

Golden rays driven by the hammer of the sun,
Reflected off of the pool’s surface,
Lee jeans, soft and warm, celebrated a connection to the
Children of the moon.


We saw the fiery depths of the Frigidaire,
and doors that led to hell burned orange.
He himself was realized by tired five year old pre-dawn eyes.
I recall an urge to run.
Scrawny arms pressed hard against a hairless chest,
and we thumped past the revealing picture window.

We thumped passed the gagging meat grinder spewing ground bologna,
Mr. Yuck and stingy armpit medicine.
He was shot point blank Christmas day.
Daisy sat in the closet for a month.

I sneaked a glance over my narrow shoulder,
And and her eyes whispered prophetic truths that I still remember.
And at that moment, I allowed God into my house.
We trudged back past the demonic eyes.
We trudged by the field that could have been Paris.
We trudged past the plastic stereo, and thumped on cold ceramic.
I pulled her wagon into her heaven and stopped.

I remember a three year old girl,
She was a princess with long shiny brown hair.
She sat waiting for me in a wagon.


This next one was...well...written. Not "well written", but like "well it was
written anyway", get the difference. I told you I am a complicated communicator.
Here it is.


Where the Sharks Live

The horizon draws the line where the world must end,
and that is where the sharks live.
The weight of a never ending ocean is the cause of the overflow from my eyes.
On a brown bean bag in the basement,
I try to imagine heaven and can’t get past eternity.
Mom and Dad watch Dallas.
I decide not to die.

We laughed at Jesus once in the living room,
and you told me he would take his vengeance with a lightning bolt.
Purging the sin from my soul through corporal punishment,
I hid for years apologizing daily.
The lightning never came.

Squinting blocks the blinding, bright, orange, yellow rays.
Grains of the Florida sun brand the soles of my feet.
I tiptoe swiftly over broken seashells toward cool, salty relief,
knowing then that if I looked directly at an eclipse,
I would instantly go blind.
Beneath the stairs, in the basement, I read my Children’s bible,
never understanding what swarms of frogs had to do with my God.

The waves crash and roll rhythmically to the shore,
foaming like Alka Seltzer as they recede.
I wade in to my ankles,
and feel the pull as the sand fills in the void surrounding my feet.
The salt stings the cut on my big toe,
and I accept the penance for my sins.

I wade deeper to my waist,
and I am greeted by the strength of a gigantic wave that lifts my feet and pulls me under.
The water churns and bubbles around me as my body turns full somersaultsscraping me against the ocean’s sand paper floor.
And for a moment I let the water take me.
Finally, I gasp for a breath lifting my head above the surfacejust in time for the next wave to push me under,
repeating the process.

I am pushed to the shallows and I pick myself up.
I wince in pain as the salt water mixed with a southerly breeze stings the bloody scrapesadorning my palms, back, and feet.
Triumphantly I raise myself waist deep out of the salty water,
the dull safety of the beach is no match for the fire that has sparked in my stomach.
I return to face another wave.

The next one is a sky scraper, and I walk confidently to face it.
Its strength is unbelievable,
and I use all of my power to resist.
The wall of water rushes at me like a freight train and collapses swallowing me whole.
Again the churning water turns me in somersaults,
as if trapped beneath the lid of an enormous washing machine.
The wave’s grasp holds me beneath the surfacelong enough to sear its burnt grasp into my lungs branding me for life.

I fight to rip free from the ocean’s death grip,
but its strength is too overpowering.
Goliath slowly begins to defeat David.
And like I’ve done so many times in my life,
I decide to give up.
The accidental, magnificent, yellow sunfloweris at last brown and broken.

And as my last breath positions itself just inside my lips,
her hands grasp me beneath my armpits pulling me clear of my watery tomb.
My lungs burn.
Choking and coughing, I gulp as much air as possible fighting for each taste of sweet breath.
The tips of her white wings touch the surface of the ocean,
causing the tiniest disturbance.
I do not fight. I know there is no sense in that.

As I lay slumped on the wet sand, I think to myself:
Someday I will return to the sea,
I will get past those waves to my destiny just beyond the break.
But for now I will sit and breathe, and wait for my next opportunity to drown.


Finally, this one is for my beautiful bride. I meant to give it to her for her birthday. Jes, I know you'll read this so here it goes. I love you so much. This was meant for your birthday, and well, you're lucky to get it today and not 10 years from now edited hundreds of times as you know I have a tendency to do. It hasn't been scrutinized and may be a little cheesy, but I mean every word! Me, Ari, Dora and Gipsi are the luckiest ones on this earth to have you. You are my other half and we love your guts!

For Jessica
Stepping into the silver pool by glowing streams of moonlight.
We wade in to our waists.
A baptism of life, she is the sweetest breath I have ever taken.
Our reflection shone back at us in the water’s mirror.
Golden moon rays bend and dance around us refracting in the tiny waves that our naked bodies coax from the surface.
This moment is like no other and will only be repeated in the theatre of our memories.
The warm water washes our souls and it is in that exact moment that we reconnect the halves that were so violently taken in the beginning.
We will do this dance again and again for eternity hand in hand
walking in the golden rays of moonlight.
In my wildest dreams, I would have it no other way;
I would choose no one else but her.


Ok, before I sign off this message is for my beautiful little boy.

Ari, I love you so much! Hold on tight little buddy, we will find each other really soon. I promise! Enjoy every moment you have right now. When we come home you are going to meet the craziest best people, like grandma & grandpa Scheel and Joe, Alysha, Nick, Aniyah, Aidan Charles "Fukodome", Silas, grandma & grandpa Covelli, Uncle Josh & Aunt Allie, Uncle Eric & Aunt Heather, Uncle Shannon & Aunt Tracy, Aunt Cici. Everyone is going to love you so much! We will go camping. You will be licked a zillion times by your sisters Dora & Gipsi.Life will be happy, sad, amazing, boring,exciting, fun, ugly, and utterly absolutely beautiful!! I can't wait to see you, little boy. Love Dad ;)