Fall Break on the Mountain

Thanks to the generosity of a former client who has become a friend, we spent Fall Break in Monteagle.  Jude and the boys drove up midday on Thursday.  I finished a two day mediation early Thursday evening, so stayed at home that night and drove up on Friday.  I've been burning the candle at both ends at work for the past six weeks, so I was anxious to get away, even it was for a long weekend.

My friend's house is comfortably ensconced on Lake Louise in the Cooley's Rift development.  Cooley's Rift is similar to Clifftops, though newer and with fewer houses.  There are quite a few lots for sale there, some with bluff views.  Also, the boys and I saw several houses under construction when we drove around the development Saturday afternoon.

David's house was a recent build and very nice.  Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, with a view of the lake  on three sides.  

Whenever we're on the Mountain, we relax in an active kind of way.  Jude and the boys played golf on Thursday afternoon.  JP went on long runs on the Mountain Goat Trail and on Sewanee's campus.  He ran into a classmate from MBA - a tennis player - and they played tennis together Friday afternoon.  P, Joe, and I got a workout in on Sewanee's baseball field and in the batting cage on Saturday morning.  Joe and I went for a run on Saturday afternoon before all of watched the Tennessee - Texas A&M game (a 20 - 13 victory for the Vols).  Jude hiked Morgan's Steep, also on Saturday afternoon.

We hit all of our favorite spots for meals.  The Blue Chair for breakfast.  Papa Ron's for dinner.  We had dinner at Shenanigan's Saturday night, where we played Hearts while we waited for our order, as is our family tradition.  We got lunch from the Mountain Goat Market on Saturday afternoon, which was packed.  That was nice to see because there was a time during and after the pandemic when the Mountain Goat Market was open odd hours, understaffed, and in danger of closing.  

I finished a great book I've been reading - Wild Idea - a biography of Doug Tompkins written by Jonathan Franklin.  Doug Tompkins started North Face, sold it, then with his first wife grew Esprit into an international clothing company before selling his share to her for 150 millions dollars.  He became one of the world's most famous environmentalists, moving to Chile and purchasing millions of acres of land in Chile and Argentina that he and his wife ultimately donated to the countries for the establishment of national parks.  He died tragically in a kayaking accident in 2015.  

And I didn't work at all.  Not a bit.  I may pay for it this week but I desperately needed to disengage for a few days and I did.  Now, coffee almost finished, I'll leave Dose, get on I-65 south and head to the office.  Back at it.

Finding His Stride

Last weekend, MBA's cross country teams - varsity and junior varsity - ran in the Coleman Midgett Invitational at Sanders Ferry Park in Hendersonville, Tennessee.  I missed the race because Joe's Dodgers has their second to last baseball game of the fall season on Saturday morning at 9 a.m., the same as the scheduled starting time for the varsity race. 

MBA's varsity finished in first place with 47 points, nine points ahead of Beech High School (56).  Father Ryan finished in third place with 72 points.  One of MBA's seniors and best runners didn't run because he was nursing a mile calf injury.  

JP ran his best race of the season, by far, finishing seventh overall (and third among MBA's runners).  He set another personal record with a time of 15:51:27 (5,000 meters).  His previous PR was the 16:18:35 he ran at the McCallie Invitational.  Cutting almost 30 seconds off his best time was impressive and I was very happy for JP.  

Jack McDaniel, JP's longtime friend from as far back as Children's House when they were three and four years old, won the junior varsity meet.  JP and I were very excited for Jack.

This week, on Tuesday, MBA runs in the City Championship  at Vaughn Creek in Percy Warner Park.  That's MBA's home course, so JP and his teammates should be comfortable running there.  The week after is the State Championship at Sanders Ferry Park.  McCallie is the favorite and Christian Brothers is strong, too, but MBA has a shot.  That's all you can ask for, I think.

It's been a fun and rewarding cross country season for JP.  His loves his teammates.  It's a really good group of boys.  I'm kind of sad to see the season coming to an end.

Heartbroken

Over the 15 + years I have kept this blog, most of what I have written about my sons has been positive.  Accomplishments, achievements, growth.  Maybe that's because I have great sons (which I do) or maybe it's because it is a natural tendency on may part to want to remember the good times.

As anyone who has children knows, however, being a parent isn't all wine and roses.  Tough days and tough times are part of the deal.  It's all of a piece, the good and the bad. 

Over the past couple of weeks, Joe tried out for the Stars basketball program.  He hoped to be selected for one of the four 5th grade teams they are fielding this season.  I think more than 80 boys tried out for 40 spots over three days of tryouts at the TOA baseball courts in Cool Springs.  Joe made it through the first round of cuts, where the number of boys was reduced to 56 boys.  On Friday afternoon - with Jude in New Orleans with her parents - I received an e-mail confirming Joe was was one of the last 16 boys who was cut.  

The really hard part for Joe - and me, actually - is that all three of his teammates who tried out made it, as did three of his 5th grade classmates at USN.  In other words, all of Joe's closest friends - his athletic peers - made the basketball team and Joe didn't.

Joe was crushed.  He was as down as I've ever seen him, about anything.  Hurt.  Embarrassed.  Sad.  All of  it.  

While the rational part of my brain realizes that part of being a parent is giving your child the space to experience disappointment and failure, it's so damn hard for me to watch Joe go through this.  I feel helpless because I can't make it better.  I can't fix this.  

I feel responsible, too, because I wonder what more I could have done to prevent this disappointment for Joe.  I could have gotten him in the gym with me more often.  I could have - and maybe should have - placed him on a more competitive team, earlier, with more advanced coaching.  I could have coached his recreational league basketball teams over the years.  I could have gotten him even more lessons with Coach Amos (Gregory).  

I have always been realistic about my boys' athletic abilities, their talents and, yes, their limitations.

Objectively, for basketball, Joe is on the small side and he's not particularly quick.  He is an above average ball handler but good enough to run the point against a pressure defense.  He's not strong enough on the ball.  Certainly, he's not a leaper.  He is not aggressive in trying to get his shot.  In short, he is his father's (and mother's) son.  

What Joe brings to the table in basketball are intangibles or specific skills that aren't going to be highlighted in a tryout setting, which awards boys who can get to the rim, get their shot off, or are aggressive enough to shoot a lot.  Basketball is about getting buckets, in the end, right?

Joe is a leader on the basketball court.  With his Bucket Squad team, Joe always is the most intense player on the court.  He plays the best defense.  He works the hardest.  He runs the team.  When he's not there - as Coach Thomas says - the team tends to fall apart against good competition.  Joe run the offense.  He sees the entire court well and he is an excellent passer.  He makes his teammates better by making sure that even the less skilled players get passes from him so they can steal an easy bucket or two.  

Joe plays basketball the right way.  Unselfishly.  Why?  Because that's how I taught him to play.  

And I think I made a huge mistake.  

Now, after what happened, I feel like I should have taught Joe shoot first, pass second.  To play selfishly.  To take 3-point shot after 3-point shot in games, regardless of whether they go in or not.  I worry that by teaching him how to play basketball the right way I stifled his aggressiveness.  Who knows?

The rational part of my mind realizes that it's good for Joe to experience disappointment in his life.  Real, cold disappointment that hurts.  For Joe, and his friends, life is all about going, doing and getting.

Where are we going for fall break?

What are we doing this weekend?

Are we getting season tickets to Belmont basketball games?

No that Joe isn't grateful for what we have, because he is.  Joe is not spoiled.  He conscientiously thanks Jude and me for things large and small, much more so that JP does.  For rides to practice.  For cooking dinner.  Still, his life is good and, in many ways, easy and without struggle.

My hope for him is that he can use this - this setback - to fuel him to work harder, to be even more competitive, and to strive to achieve greater things.  I want it to drive him, day in and day out.  I want it to make him tougher, harder, and more intense when he is competing, athletically and academically.  

It's been a rough few days, for Joe and for Jude and me, too.  We have much to be thankful for, though, and we'll pull together, makes sense of this, and get through it.  

Run Joe Run

Wednesday marked the end of Joe's abbreviated 5th/6th grade cross country season.  In the HVAC championship meet, held at USN's River Campus, Joe covered the 1 1/2 mile course in a personal record time of 9:41.  He wanted to break 10 minutes and he did, so I was very proud of him.  He was the second USN runner to finish - behind his buddy, Bennett - and 10th runner overall.  

What I wanted most of all out of this cross country season for Joe was for him to have fun, taste a little success, and most importantly, to want to keep running.  Using those metrics, all of the boxes were checked so it was a successful season in my book.

It's hard to remember where JP was when he ran cross country in the 5th grade.  Not that it matters but I have no recollection of the times he ran or how he stacked up against his competition.  I do remember that Porter, a grade ahead of JP at Oak Hill (and now a 10th grader at MBA), won all of the races.  Porter was not a cross country runner per se but he was bigger than everyone else and simply outpaced the other boys.  

I think JP finished around where Joe has finished in his races, somewhere between 5th and 10th places.  I don't think I saw anything out of JP in 5th grade that was a glimpse of the runner he was to become.  Certainly, I never anticipated he would grow into one of the top cross country runners in the state for his grade by the time he reached 8th or 9th grade.  

Just as was the case with JP in the 5th grade, it's too early to tell if running is something at which Joe will really excel at a competitive level.  If I'm being honest, what I want more for Joe - or at least just as much - is for him to continue to develop a love for running that lasts a lifetime, long after middle school and high school.  There are so many benefits to being a dedicated runner and I want Joe to experience them all.

Discipline.  Self-confidence.  Fitness.  Mental and emotional health.  Stamina.  Dedication.  

I firmly believe if Joe continues to run, he will grow in all of those areas and more.  That's precisely what I want for him as a runner.

My philosophy for running as it relates to the boys is quite simple but, I think, effective.

Let the boys come to running rather than me taking running to the boys.  

When Joe sees my lacing up my running shoes, if he asks to run with me, great.  If he'd rather read or watch a game on television, that's also great.  He knows JP and I will be there, running, and he's welcome to join us at any time.

She Grew Us Up

The autumnal equinox was yesterday - September 23, 2023 - the day the sun crossed the celestial equator.

Yesterday was also the day an unusually diverse group of people came together all from over the country to celebrate the life of the best person I will ever know, Carley Meade.  

I could write a book about Carley.  Maybe someday I will.  It's so hard to describe what she meant to me, her friends, her family, and all of the children she nannied for during the too few years before she left us.  

Carley was everything.  She still is.  Most of all, though, Carley was love.  

Love for Jon Meade, her beloved husband, whom Carley affectionately called Jonny Love.   Her love for Jon burned as brightly as the sun, inextinguishable to the very end.  It's a flame that will burn for all of eternity.  Theirs was a love story for the ages. 

Love for her family.  They provided Carley with the space to become who she was and then generously shared her with the rest of us.  What a gift they gave us!

Love for her friends.  To know Carley, to meet her even one time, was to be friends with her forever.  She so loved the women of Flo, her Ultimate Frisbee playing teammates.  In ways that I don't think those of us in the Nashville Ultimate Frisbee community fully understood at the time, she was the nucleus of our wonderful band of merry pranksters - men and women - who traveled across the South on weekends to play in Ultimate Frisbee tournaments in the days of our relative youth.  Those of us fortunate enough to have been a part of that group shared a collective bond with Carley that was made up of a thousand individual memories of inside jokes and stolen moments she shared with every one of us.  Carley was the tie that bound us all tougher - she still is - and all of those singular moments with her, held together with her love,  formed the patchwork quilt that tells the story of our lives the decade plus before we said goodbye to our youth and grudgingly entered middle age.

Love for our children who became her children.  Carley fiercely loved them with her whole heart. Every day, every hour, every minute she spent with one of our children was as precious and pure as the rarest gemstone.  To call Carley a nanny trivializes who she was and what she meant to our children.  

Carley was the sun and our babies and toddlers the planets that orbited around her in a solar system that she created for them with her beautiful and endless imagination.  Like magic, she created entire worlds for our children that were known only to them and not to us as parents, which is maybe the best kind of magic of all.  

I arrived home from work one day to find all of JP's stuffed animals ("lovies" in Carley's lexicon) carefully arranged in the den.  Twenty or thirty lovies.  JP told me they were having a rock concert.  I'm guessing he was playing the ukulele or the drums.  That's the world that Carley created for my son that day.  A world of rock concerts and band members and cheering fans.  What she created for Jude and me is a memory we will carry with us forever.  

For all of the children that Carley cared for over the years, she created worlds and invented games unique to a specific child and, of course, to his or her family.  Although Carley's physical presence is no longer with us, her spiritual presence - her essence - remains in a very palpable way for the children who were blessed to have her in their lives during such an important time in their young lives.   

How much she meant - and still means - to our children and the role she played in their lives - and continues to play - defies description.  Yesterday, Elena Rollins eloquently captured some of this when she recalled Carley's greeting to her children - Chloe and Phillip - every time she arrived at their home. "Hello, friend."  That was what Carley always said that to one or both of them, with a smile on her face and love in her heart.  

"Hello, friend."  

In a way, that's what Carley said to every one of us - or it's what we felt, anyway - when we had the great and good fortune to see her.  

For many of us, Carley was more than a friend.  She was family in the truest sense of the word.  During the last week of Jude's pregnancy with Joe, we learned at a routine doctor's visit that Dr. Maikis wanted to admit Jude to the hospital on the spot and deliver Joe that morning.  What did we do?  We called Carley and, of course, she and Jon picked up JP from Children's House at the end of his school day and stayed with him that night.  Yesterday, I learned that she did the same thing for Rhonda and Scott Simms when their second daughter was born.  

For several couples - Elena and Rob, Rhonda and Scott, Jim and Stephanie, Brian and Rebecca, and Jude and me, to name a few - Carley was in our lives on a daily basis for a period of time.  For two, three, or four years, she generously provided us with the support we needed as we learned to balance being a parent with our social and professional obligations.  Carley was our back stop.  Our safety net.  As Rhonda Sims so aptly said, "she grew us up," as parents.  Then, like Mary Poppins, she departed and became a part of another family who needed her more than we did.

Why?  Because she had grown us up to the point that we could parent our children more or less on our own.

Of course, Carley never really left us.  She was still there, babysitting for all of our children on occasion.  JP and Joe were never as happy then when they learned that Carley was coming over to stay with them while Jude and I attended an event or went to dinner together.  And wonder of wonders, for our boys, Carley and Jon came to an occasional soccer, basketball, or baseball games for our boys.  Even after Carley got sick and during difficult, painful times, she and Jon still came to JP's 4th grade operetta, in which JP was dressed up as Frank Sinatra.  Every year, Carley and Jon went to the State Fair with us.  Carley loved - there's that word again - seeing her kids in the real world, competing or performing, long after they were old enough that she had ceased caring for them on a regular basis.  

You see, Carley grew our children up, too.  

Saturday morning, JP had a cross country meet for MBA in Chattanooga.  After the race, he skipped the bus ride with his teammates to ride back with me, so he would have time to get home, shower, and go to the celebration of Carley's life at Edwin Warner Park.  He had a travel baseball doubleheader and could have made the second game - and baseball is very important to JP - but not nearly as important as celebrating Carley's life with others who love her as much as he does.  

In fact, a couple of weeks ago, JP asked Jon if he could be one of the speakers at the celebration of Carley's wife. Speaking in a public to a large group of people does not come naturally to JP, at least not yet, so this was big deal for him.  What he showed to Jude and me, though, was a maturity beyond his years and a desire to be seen and heard in an arena where he could express how important Carley was to him and how much he loves and misses her.  

At Jon's request, I agreed to emcee the speaker's portion of Saturday's celebration, which was an honor and a privilege beyond measure.  It was comforting to gaze out on the crowd and see so many familiar faces, many of whom I hadn't seen in years.  Dave Turell.  Kelli McAbee.  Carrie Plummer.  And on and on.  It was something I'll never forget.  

Jude spoke about Carley and led her FLO teammates in a rendition of Michael Jackson's "Billy Jean" that they had movingly performed for Carley at Alive Hospice more than four years ago.  I remember hiding my tears from them when they were at our house, practicing, before they went to sing for Carley.  They were celebrating her life even then, preparing to lift their voices in song to express their undying love for Carley.  They did it again on Saturday and as I watched them singing, my mind drifted back to so may Ultimate Frisbee tournaments and so many silly songs sung by FLO to the opposing team after a hard fought game.  Singing for Carley - then and now - was an act of love for one of their own.    

JP nervously stepped to microphone after Jude and FLO.  The crowd grew silent as he pulled out a piece of paper.  Slowly and deliberately, JP lifted his head and his voice quavering with emotion, began speaking to the crowd.  After a few sentences, he got choked up, tears rolling down his face.  JP paused, tried to start again, and couldn't continue.  He turned away from the microphone and the crowd, trying to collect himself.  I stood up and quietly walked over to him, hugged him, then put my arm around him.  He took a moment, turned back around, and spoke to the crowd from his aching heart.

In my life, I've never been prouder of JP.  He loves Carley so very much.  He misses her every day.  He's old enough to appreciate the impact she had on his life.  All of that, and more, was evident in his remarks to the group.  I don't think - I know - that somewhere Carley was watching and listening - probably crying a little bit because she could see that JP was so sad but smiling through the tears, too, with pride.  Like a spring shower when the sun suddenly comes out and a rainbow is just beginning to form.  

JP talked about how Carley lived her life and how she would want us to live our lives - loving and caring for each other.  He talked about how the world would be a better place if we all tried to live our lives like Carley lives hers.  He's right about that, too.

Several other people spoke about their love for Carley and told stories, too, that made us laugh and cry. I wasn't alone, I know, in not wanting the day to end.  

It was a beautiful day of celebration.  Sadness, yes, but so much love.  Love for Carley Meade.  Love for Jon Meade.  Love for Carley's family.  Love for all of Carley's children.  Love for each other.  

And, for me, that's what Carley was about.  Love.  It's what she always will be about.  

Love.

 

 

On the Road Again

I'm having a quick cup of coffee at Mean Mugs on a Saturday morning in Chattanooga.  JP races in a little over an hour at the McCallie Cross Country Invitational.

I drove over from Nashville last night after I finished a mediation for two of my favorite lawyers.  Very nice clients, too.  It makes such a difference when I'm mediating for experienced, professional lawyers with nothing to prove to me, their clients, or each other.  No ego, just a strong desire to get a fair result that benefits the parties and their children.  It's refreshing because it's not always that way. 

I hope JP and the team run well today.  I know it would mean a lot to all of the boys to win the meet.  As I understand it, McCallie has a strong team of returning runners from last year so it should be a good race.  Also, it's a challenging course, according to JP.  

I just got a text from JP with a diagram of the course.  He and the team are headed over there now.  

I've got butterflies in my stomach, as I do before every one of his races.  My hope for him is to run the race he wants to run and to give it all that he has on the course.  There rest of it will take care of itself. 

Chickasaw Trails Invitational

So much to write about and so little time to write.  That's the story of my life.

Last weekend after work, I picked up sushi from Sakura in Franklin and drove to Decatur, AL, still in my coat and tie.  I had booked a hotel room in Decatur because it was about 20 minutes away from the park at the Oakville Indian Mounds in Danville, AL.  

The 22nd annual Chickasaw Trails Invitational was held on the cross country course at the park.  Saturday morning - a week ago - I found myself driving the back roads of rural Alabama, listening to Jimmy Buffett, then waiting in a line of traffic to turn into the park's grassy parking lot.  

I had no idea what to expect as I followed the crowd and walked toward where I believed the staring line to be.  There were tents set up everywhere for the cross country squads from high schools all over Alabama and Tennessee.  JP's MBA varsity team was running in the large school division against 4A and 5A teams from Huntsville, Birmingham, etc.  JP's old school, USN, was running in the small school division.  

It was a sight to see for an old runner like me.  High school runners - boys and girls - loosening up everywhere, along with coaches, parents, and siblings.  I felt a low level buzz of nervous tension as I walked through the sea of tents, looking for JP and his teammates.  After a few minutes, I saw two maroon tents, side-by-side, nestled against a lake with other schools' tents on each side.  "MBA" was emblazoned proudly - or so it seemed to me - across the front of one of the tents.  

Roll Red Roll, I thought, as I glanced around for JP.  I saw Jack, JP's longtime friend who was running with the junior varsity, and he told me JP was with the other varsity runners, stretching somewhere.  As I walked away, I saw JP and his varsity teammates walking up the throughway.  I walked toward him and as I do before every race, I silently and solemnly fist bumped him.

"You ready?"  I asked.  

"I am."  

I walked away to let him do what he needed to do to get ready for the race.  

I wasn't sure where to set up, since I was unfamiliar with the course.  I settled on a spot on the front stretch at about the quarter mile mark.  When the gun sounded, I started intently to my right as the mass of boys approached, trying to catch a glimpse of JP.  There were so many runners massed together as they ran by me that I couldn't pick out any of the seven MBA runners.  They ran by me in a blur.  

I jogged over to a different part of the course at, I guess, just before the two mile mark.  And I waited and waited some more.  Nervous because I hadn't seen JP yet and I had no idea how we would do.  Finally, I saw Samuel, one of MBA's seniors and a co-captain.  He was in third place and running strong.  10 or 15 second later, I saw Jack, a junior I haven't too much about other than that he always runs hard on race day.  Then, I saw Mitchell, also a senior and co-captain.  

Still, no JP.  

Finally, I saw Gabe, then JP, running close a couple of seconds apart.  They looked good, though not as fast as the MBA upperclassmen.  I was able to get to a spot closer to the finish line, the to the finish line, too.  Samuel finished third overall, (15:29) which was impressive in such a large field - 329 runners.  The rest of MBA's team finished Jack (15:56), Mitchell (16:25), Gabe (16:43), JP (16:46).  Senior, Junior, Senior, Freshman, Freshman.     

What was really impressive was that MBA finished in second place overall in the large school division, behind only Huntsville HS, a 5A high school in Alabama.  That's quite an accomplishment and a reflection, I think, of the depth of MBA's team.  In my book, too, it's a tribute to the leadership provided by Samuel and Mitchell in preseason and in season workouts.  1 - 5, all of the boys ran well.  

Samuel and Mitchell presented the second place trophy to Dr. Daughtrey at assembly on Monday morning.   

I was proud of JP.  He competed, ran well, and got his first race in the books.  I'm excited to see him - and the team - the rest of the cross country season.