Our Story Begins: Then Came Year Two
The first year after losing my wife, Andrea, things changed, immensely. So many things go through our home. Christmas saw us trying to figure out if we put Andrea’s stocking on the mantle. My daughter came to terms with the fact that she didn’t want to go into a medical field – an insistence of her mother’s – and took the path of the theater.
I spent so much time on my feet cooking, cleaning, working, and moving around the home that just from sheer daily required activity I lost more than 50 pounds. I was severely overweight before then and needed to be healthier for my kids and myself. We’d finally reached a routine where just being “okay” turned into hitting a stride.
The second year is when we started our adventures. I went on a trip for my birthday. I pulled close friends who made our lives better even closer and I stayed the course and steered around those who simply wanted us to make them feel better because they were sad.
It was year two where we realized that our lives were our lives. We were defined by what we wrote in the storybook of our lives ourselves, not by what we had done for the years prior. We railed against the pitying looks because even though it’s true – we’re motherless children and a widower, that is not who we are. I am a musician, a storyteller, a journalist and a loving and caring father. My kids are writers, actors, creators, musicians and an abundance of other things.
So we recorded an old blues song: Motherless Children, and did my own arrangement of it. We improved the editing and production and showed just what we were doing in year two. It was a stark contrast to the first year.
Our Story Begins: Motherless children