No More Fighting, No Regrets

Early on the morning of Sunday, September 7, 2014, I received a call from my brother-in-law, Adam, from my dad’s home in Kailua, Oahu, Hawaii. My dad, Gary Tamotsu Nekota, had just moments earlier transitioned out of this world, a few weeks short of his 63rd birthday. No more fighting.

I had fallen asleep a handful of hours earlier in my bed in my rented Beverly, Massachusetts apartment, having just arrived the morning of Saturday, September 6 from being with Dad and family on Oahu for the preceding 17 days. My light was still on, my phone ringer still set to loud, and I was sound asleep when Adam’s call came in. I answered immediately. It was 7:18 Eastern Daylight Time on a beautiful late summer morning ushered in by a cold front that had just arrived the evening prior.

Less than 12 hours before that call, while still sitting in my vehicle with my girlfriend Meah Hearington just about to head into a movie theater to watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie, I placed a call to Adam in response to a text he had sent a few minutes earlier notifying me that Dad’s kidneys were in failure and that the doctors had removed him from his liquid nutrition and all other inputs. Dad’s body was in the final stages of shutting down. I asked Adam to put me on speaker for Dad and, just before 9 PM Eastern on Saturday, September 6, I had what would be my last conversation with him.

“Hi Dad, I’m here with Meah…”, I began, letting him know that I had arrived safely in Boston and that I was picking up the important aspects of life right where I had left them. I relayed over the phone that even though I wasn’t present in his home, I was with him; and I produced a necessary, never-before spoken, and rather choked “I love you”. I was not sure at that point if I would ever have a chance to speak with him again and, in holding to the “no regrets” manner that we approached our trip back to be with him, I had to make it happen or risk that I’d live the rest of my life never having communicated it to him. Mission accomplished: the “I love you” exchange had been made, son to father and father to son. At the close of the conversation, there were no words I could speak, I didn’t say “goodbye”. I simply couldn’t. After a few moments of hanging silence, Adam came back on the phone like a champ and closed the loop with me. Meah was right beside me during that tender conversation (and thankful, I am that she was) and left the choice up to me whether we would proceed to enter the theater and watch the movie. We did. We enjoyed it. Dad would have smiled on that…

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From August 20 through September 5, I was with Dad nearly every day. I only missed seeing him twice – once toward the end of the first week I was there, when he was back home from a 17-day hospital stretch; and once the following week, when he was back in the hospital for several days being treated for a blood infection. Sometimes during our visits we would have brief/light conversations, other days I would just sit quietly in the same room, and on a couple occasions we shared a mutual father and son nap time (if only he knew how much of a professional napper I really am!). The idea was not to be talking to him continuously, but just to be there with him; to let him know that I was present and tuned in.

On Wednesday, September 3, the roughest night I saw him experience, when we all thought we were losing him, I got to spend 10 dedicated minutes with him just saying things I needed to say, telling him some important pieces of my story, sharing my faith with him. During that conversation, I asked him to help me make a decision on whether to postpone my return flight, scheduled for Friday, September 5, or to extend my stay. He emphatically told me not to push back my departure date, understanding that I had businesses and a significant relationship to get back to. Thankfully, he made it through the night, through a 102 fever in the early hours of the morning, and I was able to watch him come back to a somewhat stable state the next day. (Out of that overnight stay came my preceding Darkest before Dawn entry.)

Early Thursday morning, while he was recuperating from the fever, I dedicated some time to watering the plants in the back yard for him – his wife Judy and her sister Gloria had been charged with covering watering duty and had not had the time nor energy to keep up with it, so I jumped in with that small act of service, which I know made a difference to him as he loved caring for his plants. His state was somewhat stable for the next day though the discomfort was clearly increasing for him.

When I departed to return home on the afternoon of Friday September 5th, I had to be content with the possibility that as I left Dad’s bedside, we might never see each other again. We both knew that was the fact, and we were willing to accept it as such. I shook his hand once more, his handshake not any weaker than I remembered it being, and as I turned the corner toward the front door of my Dad’s home the final time I would see him in this world, I glanced over my shoulder and called out “Bye Dad!”

The trip back to Beverly, Massachusetts was happily uneventful. I struggled to sleep on and off through the 7-hour segment from Honolulu to Dallas-Forth Worth but the time seemed to pass quickly. I had a hearty breakfast during the layover and managed a nap on the 3-hour flight from Dallas to Boston. The fear of intense pain due to the sinus infection I had been recovering from after my second day at the beach turned out to be unfounded – no sinus pain. My friend of many years and business teammate Lawrence Bereiweriso graciously picked me up at the airport and dropped me off at Adam’s and my sister Kristi’s house in Lynn, Massachusetts, where my vehicle was waiting for me. A short 15-minute drive up the road and I was home, and just a couple hours away from seeing Meah again, catching a welcomed break from the drama that I had been player in for nearly three weeks; a drama that I did not know would be resumed shortly. I had arrived home with no regrets.

Darkest before Dawn

04:30 HST

The peaceful calm is intense before sunrise; the stars and their soft cloud co-stars putting together a majestic show across the dark warm Hawaii sky; the gentle ocean breezes performing a silent symphony as their accompaniment. Dad’s resting in the living room of his home in Kailua, Oahu; he seems to be sleeping peacefully. Around him in various configurations and stages of rest lie three of his granddaughters, his two dogs, and his ever-vigilant wife.

For these overnight hours, I’ve enjoyed the cool, soft breezes on the sofa out on the back patio; catching a few winks at a time while staying within earshot and a sliding screen door away should anything noteworthy occur. Conditions are perfect out here, no blanket needed. Even the mosquitoes have taken leave, almost in respect of the tentative nature of the moments passing through.

Earlier in the evening, I had the most significant conversation with Dad I’ve had as an adult; it may have been only 10 minutes; he may have spoken only 10 words between shallow breaths – three of those words “Keep the faith” with as much energy as he could muster. The words “no regrets” are finding their proper seating in a heart that is just recently attuned to the relationship between thinking and feeling.

While no vacationer would ever consider my last 16 days to have been a pleasure trip, I see in them many more gains than losses. 36 hours from scheduled departure, with full paternal release to return, I am faced with the delicate juxtaposition of all that surrounds the closing pages of one life’s book, overly shortened yet full of quality pages (his); and a full life that is just beginning to outline the chapters of significance and contribution in another (mine).

In these early morning hours he sleeps. He has made it to another day and in another hour or two may enjoy another sunrise. The hours and days beyond that are not by any means sure. The one thing we know, he and I, is that in a few short years we have given each one something to be proud of the other for – me of him and all of his achievements as my dad and in business, and he of what he knows of my life, relationships and business to date. We have spoken these words to each other. When I leave here, it will not be without having known my dad and without him knowing me…

The sky is beginning to light. The new day is upon us…

05:30 HST

Veteran’s Day 2013: Thank You

To all who have ever donned the military uniform to defend freedom, country, family, and cause,

thank you.

Short time, part-time, life time, or all time, your service, known or unknown, understood or questioned, decorated or unacknowledged is invaluable to the life that the rest of us enjoy and much of the time take grossly for granted.

To you and those alongside you who worked, sweat, cried, hurt, bled, and sacrificed of yourselves for our freedom to decide our next meal, word, occupation, friend, leader, and life,

with every bit of honor, respect, appreciation and heart that we can produce, we salute you.

Hold your head high today and every day – many have the opportunity to live well and have chosen to do so because of what you have done in our stead.

Your life and your service are of priceless value to the free.

Best Ever vs Best Effort

BEST EVER

is seldom a requirement

but consistently applying

BEST EFFORT

creates greater opportunity

for it to become

a more frequent occurrence.

Summer Sidestep

Sometimes it’s worth hopping out of the vehicle and walking uphill on a driving bridge to capture an image of something beautiful.

Lord knows how many times I have simply driven by thinking “someday I’ll stop and capture that awesomeness”.

Well, today is that day.

Was it worth the pause? Was it worth the effort? Was it worth the time?

Take another look. I’ll let you answer that one for yourself…

Angel for a Moment

Today’s commute into town was different. I made it to the train with time to spare and made it to my building before the top of the hour but checked in at my desk 10 minutes later than my scheduled arrival.

You see, this morning, I decided to slow the pace down a bit. I decided to walk a little further than normal. I took a chance and decided not to walk alone.

As I took my normal route, at my normal pace, a young Italian lady, likely in her mid-70’s, asked me in an almost indecipherable accent, whether I could point her toward the Italian Consulate in the 600 building of Atlantic Ave, downtown Boston. Thankfully she had the address printed on a scrap of paper.

When I found that her morning destination was very near where I work, I was more than happy to point her in the right direction. I did just that, I pointed her in the direction of my building, and began walking again…but as she did her best to keep up with me I slowed down a touch. She motioned that she would walk with me since she noticed I was headed in the same direction. It would be another mile before she arrived at her destination, which I didn’t mention was just a block away from mine. I don’t know how she got to Haymarket, where she was coming from, or how long she had been asking passers-by for directions.

We walked side-by-side in silence for a minute or two and then I asked “So you’re from Italy?” (not ESP, just observation since she was heading to the Italian Consulate and I could only understand about 50% of her English). She gladly accepted the invitation to tell her story.

I strained to understand her but managed to pick out bits and pieces of how she had been to Boston before, but it had been many years ago and her son, who I believe lives here, apparently wasn’t available this morning. Their family had lived in London for a while before coming the first time to America, she mentioned something about her son and husband liking London and working in the factories. She advised me with a smile to stay young and strong, and to stave off getting old for as long as I could.

As we passed my building nearly a mile after beginning our brief journey (I didn’t tell her that we were walking beyond my destination), slowing a bit, becoming a little more expressive with her hands and making more eye contact, she asked me my name again (she had asked earlier on) and said, “Let me tell you a little story.” What I recall leads me to believe that she is part of the Ferragamo family as she recounted how a young Salvatore Ferragamo once made shoes in a tiny box of an apartment and had a steady stream of customers, more than could ever have been expected of a small one-person enterprise. She told me of how he was referred to the queen of England as a shoemaker and became somewhat of a personal footwear provider to the Queen. It was a very interesting story and the way that she told it left me no reason to believe anything other than that it was somehow a real part of her life. I’m not sure if she told me her given name or not – she probably did but it must have been one of the words I just couldn’t hold onto.

As we approached the entrance to the 600 building, I unthinkingly led her over a large steel grate in the sidewalk, and felt a little badly as she dropped back, slowed quite a bit and said out loud that she was scared as she looked down through the grate with each…careful…step…but she was a trooper and made it over. As she headed the last few meters to the building door, she turned, shook my hand and thanking me, said something to the effect of God will be good to you today.

Just minutes before, as we had prepared to cross the final intersection, she said with a big smile and quite obviously with a very grateful heart, something to the effect of “Today I meet angel. Not from out of sky, but from ground. You are angel.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been called an angel before. I know I’ve never met a Ferragamo before…and I have never been more proud to show up to work 10 minutes late.

When I got on the train after having a rather fantastic pre-commute morning, I had no idea that the decision to slow down and share a morning commute with a stranger would make such a big difference for a young lady from thousands of miles away.

I’m glad I decided to take the extra time, to walk the extra block, and to intentionally practice listening and smiling, even when I didn’t understand.

It made my morning to make hers with no chance of her ever paying me back (that I know of)…and I can emphatically say that I’ve been handsomely rewarded throughout the day for it.

Anyone can be an angel for a moment. It doesn’t hurt one bit.

Whose angel will you be?

Thankful for a Price Unknown

To all who have defended our freedoms domestically or abroad; to all who have guarded our coasts, rebuilt levees, protected our homeland, or proudly marched colors down Main Street or side street; to all who have left home, family, friends, and familiar for training or mission; to all who are among the civilian world, serving in reserve, ready at a moment’s notice; to all who have ever followed an order not completely agreed with, or issued one; to all who cannot, or hope never to need to speak of their experience and service again; to all who have lost components of their own lives in the defense of others’; to all who have returned home happy and contemplate redeployment because the call of arms is still strong; to all families whose heroes returned only to be laid to permanent rest, or did not return at all; and for all those who have gone before, placing their own lives at risks that the rest of us will never understand so that we wouldn’t ever have to, this Memorial Day, you are appreciated. We salute you, and pray for you and yours.

Thank you for what you have lived, what you have lost, and what you have secured for all of us.

Enter Year 38

There are days that seem to have no end, where exceptional efforts seem to go unnoticed and feel grossly under-appreciated, where nothing seems fun, and relaxation happens only as a short-lived descent from high stress to [very short] sleep (as my Monday was this week).

Then there are days like today that seem to be wall-to-wall relaxation with no external pressures (though in some spots I bore quite a heavy load on my shoulders – literally, e.g. five rep sets front squatting 185 lb), surrounded by friends and appreciated by so many that I wonder what favor I may have done the world to deserve all the love I received today.

Global greetings, some from the future (Vietnam, Australia, London), others from the past (California, Hawaii, Arizona, Nevada), and a whole lot from the present poured in all day long, many accompanied by smiles, handshakes, and hugs. Reports of great things happening all around and the bright light of hope being shared with various communities made it an unbeatable today.

Thank you to all my friends, all my family, all those who look up to me and all those to whom I look up for making day 1 of year 38 quite an amazing adventure (though I chose it to be and appreciated it as quite the “ordinary” Saturday).

There are great things heading this way. Great things indeed!

Starting gate 38 has opened and I’m off to the races once again!

Push Through and Make it Happen!

Thoughts from tonight as I work through balancing my time, energy, and focus among three different projects, two of which I love passionately and have great long-term vision for, and a third more immediate that demands higher output than I would like to invest with only meager promise of short-term returns:

Great is the disappointment of knowing that something much greater lay just beyond a short burst of intense work well within our ability, yet not having applied the full effort required to achieve it.

Let us not live less because we have settled for what is familiar.

-steelbladeninja

2013 CrossFit Open Workout 13.4 Redux – WE Win!

This one’s not about me. (Sure, I’m the guy in the forefront of the field of view, but actually, I’m tucked the furthest back in the whole building.)

This one’s about community (specifically at North Shore CrossFit in Danvers MA, but really across all concepts, localities, and people groups).

When you watch the video below, do yourself a favor and look past me. See everyone else in the mix. Watch as we all feed off of each others’ energy, encouragement, and achievement.

Everyone plays as an individual, but everyone’s playing on the same team.

Some will register scores for global comparison in this workout and others will just post another “I did it!” on their social media pages or run home and tell their families about something new they just did. Some went at it with prescribed weights and ranges of motion while others modified either or both to suit their particular conditions and experience levels.

When I watch this video, sure I’m looking for things that I did well and things that I can tweak to be better next time (no, I will not be three-peating this one, at least not in 2013!), I also watch for the thrill of seeing all the barbells head straight for the ceiling within a few seconds after “GO!” is called (what an awesome sight!) like pistons in a giant engine of sheer human power output without regard to cylinder age, finish, displacement, or origin.

When I watch this I notice the individuals, the everyday athletes, the folks who, outside of this building, you’d never know were such monsters of movement:

• I see Matt tearing it up, who just a couple months ago, had surgery on a foot and who a few days ago was identified in a photo that I still can’t believe was him (at 2x his present size and about 1/4 his current physique).
• I see Adam, who two years ago was just looking on from the sidelines, watching, supporting his then girlfriend (now fiance, a phenomenal athlete in her own right) at a weightlifting competition, never once letting on that he was going to dive in and become a benchmark for so many to chase after.
• I see [Super] Ed, who decided that he’d spend his birthday with the crew, doing what we all love to do – pushing past our comfort just so we can say we did those 60 reps and demonstrate what we’ve been working on over the last few years [he even gifted us with A) no burpees, and B) coming to play in full uniform!].
• There’s Tara over there playing hurt, scraping for every rep (sticking those jerks like a nationally ranked weightlifter or something), knowing that within reason, once the condition it indicates is acknowledged and addressed, pain is just another obstacle to be overcome along the way.
• I’ve got Amos counting my reps, knowing what my target is and making sure I stay on pace to achieve it – he got me exactly there (he’d go on in Heat 2 to put out some serious work himself, with solid focus and a ton of determination).
• Toward the end, you’ll hear a little bit of extra moral support from my brother Dave, who just came to check things out (and who now has a completely different perspective on CrossFit, up close and personal).

When you watch the video, don’t just see me. See the people I’m surrounded by.

See the adrenaline-pumping hearts and at-capacity lungs of thirty individuals all out to get past their own mental inhibitions and achieve something they’ve never before achieved (this is just one of two heats – half of those folks hadn’t even stepped up to the bar yet).

Don’t just watch this to see “another one of those CrossFit workouts”. See what a community of like-minded individuals who don’t focus on or fight about their differences can do when they’re targeted on the same things, knowing that their own psyches are their only enemies.

If you really think about it, it might even make you wonder what great achievements these people must be able to accomplish outside of the gym too. If you’re so inclined, go check out a CrossFit near you and ask. I don’t think they’ll be timid about it; and if you’re not so inclined, just enjoy the game from the bleachers (but please do find something that you enjoy that engages your own mind and body in such a manner that it produces greater health for your own story).

2013 CrossFit Open workout 13.4:

• 5 AM Thursday, Heat 1 – 63 reps
• 6:30 PM Friday, Heat 1 – 64 reps. I win again!

Heat 1 in its entirety:

One need not be a BIG dog to LEAD from the pack. – steelbladeninja