Aug. 7, 2015
To my Dad, Jordon, who passed away 15 years ago today, thank you for your continual inspiration. To my mom, Ella, thank you for love and guidance, for single handedly raising my siblings and me. I would not be the guy I am today without either of you. And to God my father, who has walked beside me during the whole thing : )
Friends and Family,
Do you ever wish you could talk to a younger version of yourself? Or at least wonder what it may be like to “hang out”?
I was thinking on that this morning. I would love to talk to the 9 1/2 year old me. The kid that was just told that his dad had passed away, in tears, held by his mom, wondering what in the world was going to happen next. The kid that was just rescued form Lake Superior the night before. That kid had some guts.
I wonder what would be more shocking, how much I’ve changed? Or how much I haven’t?
I’m thinking we’d get together and play. Start with street hockey. 9 1/2 year old Jake straps on every official and unofficial goalie padding he can find (jersey included), while 24 year old Jake blasts pucks at him against the garage for hours. Then basketball, 24 year old Jake might get real stretched out and maybe dunk successfully once, while 9 1/2 year old Jake is so blown away that he spends the rest of the day trying to touch the net… with a mini trampoline. We’d end by making forts, something we both rock at.
I don’t know what we’d actually do, or how weird or natural it’d be. I do know this, It’d be awesome and I’d never be bored or worried if the other person didn’t like my opinion.
24 year old and 9 1/2 year old Jake are really the same (I say 1/2 because that extra 6 months was huge back in 2000). Sure, my body is a little larger these days and I have to shave now, but for the most part I think the main markers of Jake at 9 1/2 are the same at age 24. I was a joyful, chid-like-faith filled kid. I was happy a lot, had fun a lot and definitely believed in Santa Clause (still do). I dreamt of being a doctor then (still D.O.). I loved the beach, Scotland and Michigan State Spartans (still do). I loved Jesus as much as any 9 1/2 year old did, I guess I now love Jesus as much as much as any 24 year old does.
So what did I do in the past 15 years if the biggest changes were puberty? haha : ).
I think that is the major beauty of it – Staying me. The main thing I would tell my 9 1/2 year old self. “Hang onto the pricelessness that is you, don’t let tragedy or circumstance take it away, in fact, let it make you more you.”
Part of my story that gets lost in the big waves of Lake Superior that took my dads life is my ride back from the Upper Peninsula. It sucked, it was silent. My family was sad and shocked that we just lost such a huge part of our life. I sat there looking out the window, thinking what would happen next. Would I forever be mad at God? As in “F*** You God you took my dad.” Because that’s reality for a lot of 9 year old kids that lose their dads. Or would I allow God to be my new dad? A cliche stretch at the time. I literally thought at the time it was going to be between 1) me in jail at age 20 because I didn’t have a dad, or 2) I’d be so unique and different, because losing my dad freed me up to look to my father in heaven more closely.
I went for the latter.
I would love to go back in time and give the 9 1/2 year old me a hug, hang out with him, have fun with him, hear about his worries, but feel his strength in those worries. I would love to look at that kid, and realize how young he really was despite how old I felt at the time. I think I would kneel down to his level with tears in my eyes and tell him how much he is loved. What a delight he is to people. How important it is that he just be himself, just be a kid, just be in the now. How important it is to trust God. To learn to love him from the center of who he was, to enjoy God, life and people. How important it would be to still chase my dreams and believe I could have an amazing life. Let him know that he’d make it. That God would be with him and take care of him. That his mom would be a rockstar and play both roles of parenthood. To let him know how proud his dad is of him. To let him know that his story would not come back empty, but rather would change lives. I’d tell him it’s ok to cry. Ok to laugh. Ok to not be ok. Ok to be very ok. Ok to even celebrate his dad even though he’s gone.
I obviously will never get that chance, no one does. I’d love to duct tape the hockey pads on again, but I didn’t need to. Thankfully I had so many people come in my life at perfect times and say those exact words. Also thankfully I tried to put those wise words into action. From my mom, to mentors, men who took me under their wing, friends, extended family. They all helped. I needed people to talk to, cry with, play with, laugh with, and grow with. God gave me all of those.
I smile when I think of my 9 1/2 year old self. It was the biggest turning point in my life. Some how in that pre-teen, fatherless body, God got ahold of me. And we never looked back : )
Thank you for all of your help and prayers, from my 91/2 year old days until now,
Jake
