Rest. Find Peace. Be Calm.

Dear Ryan,

I wish I knew magic words. I wish I had secret letters to make your family's loss make sense. I know a lot of words. I know words big and small, grand and silly. But, I don't know any words to let a nine year old girl make sense of losing her Dad. I don't know how to tell a five year old boy it will be okay.

I don't know if it will.

You were a good man, Ryan. You had faults. You had issues. You had all those things we wish we did not have, but do. I hate the phenomenon that turns someone's character into caricature. Your reactions, your stresses, your foibles made you one of us. When we laughed at you, we were always laughing at ourselves too.

We will miss you Ryan.

Your death was senseless. All death's are senseless in the moment. It was sad, and stupid and reminds us all life sucks hard at times. A simple set of stairs, and slightly delayed reactions, and you were gone. It is a scenario we have all negotiated many times.

You deserved better.

Good night my colleague, my friend, my fellow Dad and husband. Your kids will grow up with questions and rage, and more questions. I hope someone always tells them you loved them. You were a man struggling to find his way in the world, at times. But, you never looked more comfortable, more peaceful, or more at rest than with your children. They were the greatest gift you had.

I hope, one day, they'll realize you were their's.

Father's Day Questions of Love and Regret

My second Father's Day just passed. The first one hardly counted. My boys were a handful of days old last June. They are too young to understand we reserve specific days for celebration. Their world is not segmented. But the day was a reminder of things to come. It was a remembrance of what is gone.

My Dad died in 2011. It's not a constant pain. My dead Dad is a simple, shitty truth. I am old enough that he isn't the only hole in my world. But, his shadow looms large in my imagination a couple days past this Father's Day. I should say that I miss him. I'm not sure that is true. I no longer redigest regrets like that.

I miss what I could have given back.

I wish my minions could meet their Grandpa. Despite being a grumpy introvert he loved his children and grandchildren. This was a good man who didn't love a lot of people. I wouldn't have described him as full of joy. I wish I could have brought some more light to him. My twins bring joy. I'm not being conceited. I don't think I'm special. They are. There is something about twins that people open their hearts to. I've encountered this every time I've been in public with them. It's remarkable. I miss sharing that with my Mom and Dad.

I think my Mom misses that too.

My Dad isn't the only broken piece of my story. I've lost three of four Grandparents. Each of them meant something special. My boys carry part of each of their names. I wish they could cuddle and love my twins like my maternal Grandmother has been able to. But those are small wishes. Great grandparents are a luxury. It is a lie to say I think of them and what could have been. It isn't something I miss, or regret.

I do miss J.P.

J.P. was the centre of my university life. She brought me and my partner together. She dragged me into friendships when I wasn't comfortable around people. She knew I was smart and capable when I had forgotten and was stumbling, unguided into my future. She is a big part of my Ph.D. She was the gravitational centre of my life for many years. Long after my spouse and I were living together and I had started pursuing Grad school she was still the centre. We orbited around her inevitable force of life.

I don't miss her for any of those things.

I miss her for the same reason as my Dad. I miss the opportunity to pay her back for her love and kindness. J.P. was an example of the buoyancy of the human spirit. J.P. didn't have an easy life. I don't know all the details but she actively practiced love and friendship. She was a beacon for many of us. Her glow was part act, part force of will and all choice. She was braver than I realized during our years together. I wish I could have shared the light and joy of my minions with her too. Her death is one of the reasons my partner and I haven't formalized our 'marriage'. It seems wrong without J.P. standing by our side.

She is an empty seat at every celebration.

I won't let those seats gather dust. I will share memories of all my past and present loves on days of celebration and ritual. I will make the past more than ghosts that haunt our regrets. I will make them part of our family story of love.

There will always be a place in my heart, my home, and my family for my Dad and our burnt out star J.P. 

Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 11

Why are so many former targets working as talking heads on hockey broadcasts? I'm a former, not nearly as accomplished, target.  We know bugger all about forwards, defencemen, systems, shooting or coaching strategies. The only thing we're good at is explaining why a goal wasn't our fault. Maybe that's it. Former goalies explain the play from a fairly lay perspective. This is also why they are terrible colour analysts. There isn't any analysis. They just repeat what the play-by-play guy said in a different way. It's fucking distracting. Most broadcast teams have a play-by-play person and de facto play-by-play person who won't shut up and let the game breathe. And old timey goalies don't keep up on contemporary goaltending technique, like the importance of post play. Goaltending techniques are significantly advanced from the days when goalies only needed two things: courage, and a good pain tolerance. Read a little InGoal magazine and add something of interest to the broadcast. (To be fair, McLennan and Biron are pretty good on panels. Otherwise, not a great group of broadcasters).

I don't watch Niemi that closely. But he loses his net a lot. He was at least six inches too far to his left on Toffoli's goal. Maybe he was having a bad night (obviously), but these aren't mistakes I see often from NHL starters. Suddenly the Kings look like the team everyone feared to face in the first round. Can they make the full 0-3 comeback? I doubt it. But the Sharks must feel a little historical weight pressing on them now.

Ridiculous pass from MacKinnon on the Av's tying goal. Prepare yourselves for hyperbole about the lad for a couple more days. Although that pass was insane. No exaggeration needed.

It was strange how Gustavsson's pad rolled on Lucic's goal. I don't know if that was a small equipment malfunction, or if his pads are laced in an unorthodox way. It is really difficult to make a modern pad behave like that. They are designed to automatically roll to an edge and give a proper butterfly position. Thankfully the Red Wings are gone. No more talk of the genius of their coach, or organizational structure. These things are true but I get tired of the same stories over and over. I get that the media needs to tell similar stories, because language is too complex to understand without pre-determined frames. But do we have to tell the 'same' stories? It's getting to the point of fucking cliche.

The Pens looked good. So did Fleury. I hope he has a nice run. We love the stories of redemption too. I think the hockey world would embrace a story of fighting to overcome these early mistakes. Although that team still panics around their net. I don't know if it is a nervousness that starts from Fleury, but they lose all their defensive assignments when there is a loose puck. That can't happen if you expect to win the Cup again.

We're marching towards the second round, when things become more pressurized and less interesting. I don't know if it is the rush of so many games that makes the first round the best. I don't know if it is the stark difference in intensity that we are used to by round two. I just know the first round is the best two weeks in sports for me.