an open letter to the guy marrying my best friend

to the guy marrying my best friend - 

I still remember when she brought up your name with me. Wait, you mean the guy we went to high school with? I was a bit confused, but decided to hear her out and listen to the story. It started with a “should I reply?”, followed by a couple days later with a “should I go to dinner with him?”, followed by a week later with a “I think I kinda like him”. 

She was sold. 

But if I’m being completely honest, I was not. 

And please understand, this had nothing to do with you. She could be going on a date with Brad Pitt and I’d be concerned (okay, probably not the best example, but you get the point). She’s my best friend, and when her heart is on the line, it’s my job to make sure it’s in good hands. 

She told me about how sweet you were, how easy the conversation was with you, and how great of a father you were to your daughter. You checked off pretty much every box that she ever created to keep a safe distance away from men. And in you walked, and down came her walls. 

She was ready. 

But if I’m being completely honest, I was not.

And again, this had nothing to do with you. She was always the person that I knew I could call on at any time to chat with about problems, or even drop by her house unannounced to just hang out and begrudgingly watch the ID Channel. We could go on walks, go to the gym, go eat terrible food, drive around and jam out to ridiculous music that literally no one else drives around and jams to. And even though I was so happy to see her smile so much whenever she talked about you, I knew that meant our friendship was going to change. 

And that was really, really difficult. 

During all this time, I kept a watchful eye on you. Searching for, I don't know, something. An excuse to not like you for taking my best friend away from me, probably. But I couldn’t find anything. You treated Aryn the way I had always hoped someone would. You are the person that created the mirror so that she could see how beautiful, worthy, and special she is. You filled a void in her life that could only be filled by you. 

And eventually, I was sold.

And finally, I was ready. 

In just a few days, you two will marry. And I couldn’t be any happier that you both chose one another. All I ask is to cherish her, support her, challenge her, encourage her, and love her deeply, passionately, and unconditionally. And maybe, remind her to call her best friend every so often. 

Happy Pops Day....

All day, I have seen posts from people talking about and honoring their fathers. Throwback pictures from years ago, matched with a heartfelt message, elaborating on the qualities of what makes their dad special. And it got me thinking.

What makes a father a dad?

Sure, it may be their uncanny ability to spew a corny joke on queue (is there like a dad-joke database out there that us non-dad's don't know about?), or maybe even the way they take such pride in teaching their children a sport, a trade, or a hobby. While thinking about these qualities, as well as a father's bravery, their supportive nature, and their love, it brought me back to a story about my own dad, Mark.

Years ago, back when I had recently graduate from "floaties" in the pool, I was swimming playing my favorite game of finding coins in the pool (the struggle of being an only child, but I digress). I remember having my back to the pool and throwing dimes and pennies behind my head, so that I wouldn't be able to see where they went. My dad wasn't far away, taking the opportunity of great weather to mow the grass.

One dime, plop. Two pennies, plop plop. 

I pause and wait. Count to five (to let the coins sink). Slip on my goggles and skim the top of water, searching for the coins. I float at the surface of the water, slowly scanning the pool-floor for the coins.

And then, all of a sudden, splash.

My dad had jumped in right near me and lifted me up above the water. Frantic.

Are you okay? Mitch, are you okay?

Yeah, dad, I was just looking for the coins. 

We got out of the pool, as he took off his now water-damaged pager (yes, folks, I said years ago), to dry out his wallet and the money inside, and for him to try off his drenched khaki shorts and shoes that he was wearing while cutting the grass.

He didn't worry about the pager, or the wallet, or his clothes. He didn't give a second thought. All he thought was that I was drowning, floating near-motionless on the water. And all he wanted to go was get into that water as fast as possible to help me.

Isn't that kind of what a dad does? They don't worry about this or that, they just want to make sure their children are okay, and taken care of, and safe.

Thank you dad, for always being so supportive of who I am and what I want to do. We don't always see eye-to-eye on things, in fact, we probably see differently more than we do alike. However, I know that I can always count on you to jump in, no matter what, and make sure your boy is okay (and probably for one of those on-queue corny jokes, too.)

Love ya, Pops.

26 and Counting...

Well, it's official. I have experienced this world and everything it has to offer for a whopping 26 years. Although I thought the "milestone" of turning 25 was slightly depressing, being on the downward slope to 30 caused me to stop and think for a minute. After a minute (I counted), I came to a two beautiful conclusions that, although 26 years seems like a lot of time to spend on this planet, I 1) have many more years to go and 2) have learned so many things.

Now, it would be really cool to sit here and talk to you guys and gals about what will happen in the "many more years" to come. However, I could probably give you a very vague and brief description of what will happen tomorrow morning, and that's about the extent of my guessing.

Instead, I wanted to compile a list. A list featuring 26 things that I have learned during my 26 years. Through the experience of joy, heart ache, mourning, and boredom, something had to be learned, right?

Let's dive in....

1. At holidays with the family, don't be the last to show up and the first to leave. I guarantee if you do, you'll miss a great memory (not to mention great photo ops with my family).

2. Be open-minded. Most times you cannot change the circumstances surrounding you, but you can always change your mindset. Allow yourself to make that change.

3. Don't ask questions when you're not ready for the answers... someone will answer it for you honestly, and the truth may hurt.

4. Get lost in a book. Period.

5. Don't always take life so serious. Let loose. Dance a little bit in public. Have fun.

6. If you're ridiculously lucky, you'll have at least one person in your life that you can tell anything to without judgment. Never take that person for granted.

7. Do spontaneous things out of your comfort zone (like, getting a tattoo on vacation).

8. Never underestimate the power of sending a thank-you card.

9. Try new foods that you never thought you'd enjoy. You never know, it just may become your favorite dish (which is why I crave sushi 7 out of 7 days in the week).

10. Start (and keep) traditions. As the years go on, you learn to appreciate them more and more (not to mention, planning things become much easier).

11. If you have an opinion, don't be afraid to stand up for what you believe in, even if you're the only one standing in the room.

12. Every person you meet has a unique story. Allow them to be their own story teller, not someone else.

13. Love yourself. Seriously. Love yourself. Easier said than done, I know. But truly, deeply, and genuinely love yourself.

14. Give your dreams a fighting chance. They may not always work out the way you had hoped, but you'll never have to look back and ask yourself "what if?"

15. Don't laugh at a joke that you don't understand because, inevitable, the person next to you (who also didn't understand the joke) will ask you to explain why it was funny.

16. Talking on the phone is lame, but sometimes it is necessary. Don't reject every call.

17. Don't be a hero, put on sunblock.

18. Set goals.

18b. Don't set ridiculous goals that you can't obtain. For example, I'm not going to set a goal to walk on the moon. Instead, set goals that will challenge you.

19. Find a place (or two) that you can go to alone to find comfort and peace. Often times, this can be found somewhere in nature (on a lake, on a mountain, posted up under a tree, etc.).

20. Listen to mom and dad. This doesn't necessarily mean to do exactly what they say, but take their advice into consideration and appreciate what they have to say.

21. Pray. For requests, on the behalf of others, or for appreciation and gratitude. Just don't stop praying.

22. Sometimes, all you need is to go on a cruise (alone or with friends). Don't let the price of gas keep you from cleaning your mind or making a memory.

23. Write your own words in greeting cards. Sure, people get paid to write some general comments like "Happy Birthday!" or "Get Well Soon..", but no one can say how you feel better than you.

24. If possible, go to college away from home. It will "force" you to make new friends, try new things, and gain responsibility before you enter the "real world".

25. Netflix has been, is, and always will be bae (and yes, I hate this term, too... but sometimes you just need to call a duck a duck).

26. Be the best version of yourself. Don't be someone that others want you to be. Be you. Make the most out of the 26 years.

Lastly, thank you to everyone who has made each birthday and each year so special. Whatever season you were in my life, and regardless of how long or short that season seemed to be, I am thankful for you.

Loves.

May We Never Forget...

In grade school, I remember learning about the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. I remember reading about a speech by Franklin D. Roosevelt, the 32^nd President of the United States, recalling the events and describing the day as “a date which will live in infamy”. No disrespect, but Pearl Harbor was an historical event taking up a couple of pages in my history textbook, somewhere in the chapter labeled “World War II”. A day full of desolation, I’m sure of it, but to me…it was a couple of pages in my history textbook, followed by an essay question on an exam detailing the significance of the attack on Pearl Harbor to the United States’ involvement in World War II. That’s all.

On September 11, 2001 at 8:45 am, I was in 7^th grade English class. I wish I could remember what Miss Scharber was talking about on that Tuesday morning. Now, thirteen years later, I can’t remember a single thing that happened on that day before 8:46 am.  I can’t remember if I woke up a few minutes late or if I had breakfast. I can’t remember what ChannelOne News was about that morning or what messages were included on the morning announcements over the muzzy intercom. I can’t remember my final moments of innocence.

On the 46^th minute, of the 8^th hour, on the 11^th day of September, in the year 2001, everything changed. I can recall every detail from that moment on as if I was suddenly awakened from a long sleep. The eerily quiet high school hallways. The panicked look on Mrs. Melugin’s face. The discussions of who orchestrated these events. The planes crashing. The towers falling. The people jumping. The people running. The people crying. The people.

Even though, as a twelve year old, I could only recollect small amounts of the information on the news coverage, I couldn't stop watching. Before my eyes, something was happening. The world was changing. I….I was changing.

My naivety was challenged and questioned. These types of events only happen in Times New Roman, 10 pt font sprinkled on the white page of a textbook. These types of events were only multiple choice questions on a history test. These types of events didn't happen here, right? People don’t just plan to kill thousands of people….right? This world is beautiful and good and safe…………..right?

Now, thirteen years later, I still struggle with these questions.

That night, on the 11^th day of September in 2001, I remember having trouble sleeping. I had a small television set in my room, and I turned on Nick at Nite, some light humor to help me shake those images out of my mind. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to forget…..

May we never forget September 11, 2001. May we never forget the families who lost their loved one. May we never forget the heroes. May we never forget the comradery, the love, the compassion shared between the American people on the days and weeks that followed. May we never forget.

…gave proof through the night… that our flag was still there….

Mother's Day - My Mom

I walked into the large conference room for Take Your Child to Work Day. My mom had worked for Proctor & Gamble for a while; this wasn't my first time at her office. An unfamiliar face walked up to me.

"Are you Shelli's son?" she asked me as if she was, well, talking to a little kid.

"Yeah," I replied, a bit under my breath.

I wanted to be Mitch. I couldn't stand being known as "Shelli's son".

About 25 years ago, I was born to the parents of Mark and Shelli Hammond. I am so blessed to have two great parents. However, today is about Shelli, my mom.

For the past week, I knew I wanted to write something about her. And, for the past week, I have struggled with what to say. This isn't because there was nothing to say, but because there was so much to say that I had no idea what to include. How could I convey the sacrifices she made, the love she gave, and the mother she was?

And then I realized something.

I can't.

And that's not necessarily a bad thing. There's something special and beautiful when something cannot be properly described. Like the feeling you get the first time you see the ocean or witness a shooting star. You can't describe it the way it deserves to be described. It just...is.

I could say a lot about my mom.
I could list out everything she did just to make me smile.
I could tell you about all the times she stood up for me and hugged me when I was feeling down.
I could pass along the life lessons and attributes that I learned from my mom.
I could show you countless cards with beautiful words of love, written by my mom, on each one.
I could go on, and on, and on, and on.......

But I won't.

Like the ocean and a shooting star, my mom just is.
She is giving, and loving, and compassionate.
She is everything I hope to be as a person.
She is the embodiment of the parent I hope to be one day.

She is my mom.

And as for me, I am honored to call myself Shelli's son.

Beside the Cross

The event has been documented and told for nearly two centuries. A man, out of love, hanged on a cross, suffering excruciating pain for hours. With nails pierced through the skin into the ragged, splintery pieces of wood, blood dripped down to his feet and fell onto the ground below. Mockers hurled insults at him and shook their heads in disgust, spitting at the claim that he, as he had claimed, was the “Son of God.”

Jesus wasn't the only one being crucified on Good Friday. Along with Jesus were two criminals, one on each side of the cross of Jesus.

We don’t know much of anything about the two criminals. No name. No family history. No criminal history. They are merely two men being punished for crimes that they committed.

What we do know, however, is how they viewed the cross of Jesus.

One man used his final moments to provoke Jesus. Luke recalls the man saying “if you’re the Christ, save yourself and us!” He mocked Jesus and wanted to use the Cross to his benefit. Show me you’re the Son of God by getting me off this cross.

Jesus, despite the insults and pain, would cry out saying “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing”.

Let him save himself if he is the “Chosen One!”

If you’re the king of the Jews, come down from there!

The man hanging on the other cross, who admits that he is suffering the punishment that fits the crime, speaks up. Through the pain of the nails pierced through his skin he tells the other criminal that Jesus has done no wrong and doesn't deserve the ridicule or the cross. He looks to Jesus and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Again, we don’t know this man’s back story. Maybe he met Jesus before and was able to speak to him. The chances are slim, though. So with, presumably, one of his final statements on earth, he looks over at a bloody man, sentenced to a horrifying death by the government, and says “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” See, this man didn't have the rest of the beautiful love letter that God scripted out for us, that we have now. He may have read the Old Testament, but he didn't get to read the Gospels and know all the wondrous acts performed by the hands of Jesus. He didn't get to hear the story of Mary checking in on the tomb only to find it empty, for us to rejoice that the Son of God had risen. He didn't get that.

What he had was a brief moment with Jesus and a belief. He believed he deserved what was done to him, the death on a cross. He believed Jesus did not. He believed that Jesus had a kingdom, a life to come. He believed he wanted to be part of that life, not only to be saved from the current situation like the other criminal. He wanted to be remembered by the Son of God who was breathing his final breaths on earth.

And Jesus, despite the struggle and agony and pain and anguish, answered to the man gracefully saying, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

We don’t know his name. We don’t know his family history. We don’t know the crime he committed.

We know that when he saw Jesus, he wanted to be with him forever.

We know the story. The cross is on Bibles, necklaces, and skin. We've almost become stale to those six hours where Jesus suffered a brutal persecution and crucifixion, an act that we can hardly wrap our minds around. We know that Jesus was not defeated in death, and we celebrate, which is great because Jesus bore that pain and all that sin so that we may be saved. But I can’t help but wonder if we've shifted more to the first criminal, who view the cross as a “save me!” moment, and sometimes we forget that we have this criminal history and we are so undeserving of that love that he gives. We forget to approach the cross with humility and the hope that Jesus remembers us in his kingdom. 

Stop. Breathe. Be Thankful.

Okay. I get it. We live in a country that is practically obsessed with Christmas. And I understand why. Kind of. The lights, the giving, the spending time with family, the snow, candy canes, and music. Oh my goodness, we cannot leave out the music. From Silver Bells to Silent Night even to some joke of a song about a penguin that Brad Paisley released, Christmas music creeps its head into airwaves shortly after kids go into a sugar coma the night after Halloween. All through November we slowly begin seeing red decorations with white lights and Doorbuster sales preparing for Black Friday and that treacherous shopping season of December.

Okay. I get it. It is so much better to spend $199 for a new digital camera than $249. And this year, I see that the Black Friday fun begins at 6 PM on Thursday, creating extra time to shop for Christmas! FINALLY! I have been waiting for those extra 8 hours of Christmas deals for so many years. (I hope you can sense the sarcasm through text.)

But there's something I don't get.

In the chaos of Christmas, consumerism, and caroling, why have we forgotten the season of being thankful. The month of November has become this awkward time of full beards and the waiting period for the Christmas season. Sure, we may share some turkey with family and tune in to see the Packers kick off on Thursday afternoon, but what about true thankfulness.

It seems like every year someone brings it up.

Let's go around and say what we're thankful for!

And it's quickly shot down as some playful joke.

Why is it so hard for us to say what we're thankful for? When we are sitting in a house, with the heat on, clothed with the latest fashion, eating a delicious home-cooked meal, surrounded by people who love us, and having money in our bank account to have the option of spending $199 for a new digital camera, and we still get embarrassed at the very reason we come together on that 4th Thursday in November to GIVE THANKS.

Stop. Breathe. Be Thankful. Take a moment away from the Black Friday (Thursday) ads and allow yourself to be thankful for all that you have. Considering you have the ability to read this (period) on a computer (or iPhone or whatever) means you have plenty to be thankful for.

And after Thanksgiving, listen to every Christmas song you wish, and decorate your yards like crazy with lights and fictional characters, but allow the season of thankfulness to not only exist during its "official" time in November, but throughout the Christmas season as well. After all, we allow Christmas season to exist during Thanksgiving, right?