Tag Archives: jesus

Deadly Heart Conditions and Grandbabies … like Peas and Carrots

For Christians, especially the 1.4 billion Catholics across the globe, Easter weekend is the epitome of the Circle of Life.

Christ dying on the cross on Good Friday. T.S. Elliott once wrote, “The dripping blood our only drink; The bloody flesh our only food; In spite of which we like to think that we are sound, substantial flesh and blood — Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.”

With that backdrop, two days later, we rejoice His resurrection.  Craig D. Lounsbrough wrote, “Easter is a time when God turned the inevitability of death into the invincibility of life.”

The Circle of Life.  This year, made even more poignant with the passing of Pope Francis just mere hours after Easter Sunday passed.

Life and Death. Light and Darkness. Hope and Despair. All inextricably linked.

For me this past weekend, the bittersweet reality and memories of tragic events four years ago reared its head once again. And was made manifest in the present.

But first, we must flash back four years ago.

On the evening of November 6, 2020, my son Hanford advised me that he and his wife were on the way to the hospital. The same hospital in which both my beloved daughter and loving father breathed their last. But this time it would be different. This time, new life awaited!

At 7:42 a.m. the next morning, I received a Facetime message.  I immediately see the smiling face of my son, Hanford, the exhausted but glowing face of his incredible bride, Rebeca, and … the hope and promise of a better world in Riley Emily Dunn. Born just six (6) minutes before. Tears fill my eyes as I watch the parents so filled with love that they can barely communicate holding the miracle they brought into the world. And for a moment in time, that huge hole that exists within my heart felt a little smaller.

But, that was to be short lived.

Sunday evening, November 8, 2020, about 8:00 p.m., I was told that my older brother, Chuck, an American Airlines pilot, adventurer and the picture of health, was being rushed to a hospital. Whether it was a heart attack, a heart aneurism, or severe stroke, we did not know at the time. 

And so, the very first time I held my granddaughter in my arms, I had to tell my son that my brother’s life was essentially over … that I was flying to Florida the next day to tell the medical professionals to end the procedures keeping his heart pumping.

The seconds of your life tick away. Endlessly. The sands of time pouring through an hourglass. Which may cause one to wonder how many grains of sand are left.

Afterwards, we tried to go back to our daily lives …while we picked up the pieces from the carnage that death had taken. At year’s end, we tried to believe the worst was behind us. We tried. And before 2021 was even one week old, the spectre of Death tried to revisit us, mocking us, grimly laughing at us, taunting us with, “Hold My Beer.”

Almost two months to the day when I got that phone call from my older brother’s now widow, on Tuesday January 5, 2021, I received a call from the wife of my younger brother, James. His wife called to tell me that, “Jim has had a massive heart attack. He’s in the hospital in surgery right now.”

So, yes, my younger brother, almost 2 months to the day my older brother died of a heart condition, had a major heart attack known as “the widowmaker.” I was told he had 100% blockage in one heart ventricle.

But survive he did.

Which brings us to the present.

Once again, my son and his wife were expecting their second child.  A boy. My first grandson. His due date was supposed to be around April 12. The joy! The expectation. Even though they shot down my suggestions for names. I could not understand why they did not think that “Worthington Winthorp” was not a good name.

Now young Logan (the name they chose) was becoming the size of a Mack truck.  So, a C-section was scheduled for April 7. The birth went without a hitch. 9 lb. 12 oz, 21 ½ inches long.  Welcome to the world Logan!

And then once again, the macabre hand of fate intervened.

My younger brother James was scheduled to fly to Croatia to meet his daughter, Avery.  Avery is taking a gap year going on a global adventure. But a day or two before he was supposed to go, on Wednesday, April 16, 2025, James began to feel a stronger fluttering of his heart.  The prior two weeks, he had worn a heart monitor as medical professionals tried to learn more about his health. So, on that Wednesday, he cancelled his trip and set up an appointment with his heart specialist.

On Good Friday, April 18, 2025, he was scheduled to go in to have a stent or balloon inserted to clean out his arteries. But… not so fast my friend. His physical health was far worse than believed.  95% blockage in one artery. 99% in another. Which leads us to … open heart surgery.

Much to his chagrin, the medical professionals would not allow him to leave the hospital. In fact, he was transferred to another hospital so the procedure could be performed.

So, while the Easter Bunny was merrily hop, hop, hopping into our homes, James was in a hospital… waiting. With only time to think.

Open heart surgery, with all of its complications and uncertainties was scheduled for Monday, April 21, 2025.

And so…

As I anxiously awaited the news, I pondered life and death. Light and darkness. Hope and despair. The fates bringing one new, incredible life but at what cost? Would there be the ultimate price to pay? A zero-sum game. Quid pro quo. What cruel joke was this?

In the Game of Thrones series, among the many poignant lines, the following takes place …

So today we tell death … Not today.

The normal 4 hour surgery took only 2 hours. But, it was not his time. Not today. But for another?

Sometimes Death is not to be denied. On that same Monday I was told that the grandmother of Rebeca (my son’s wife), had passed away in her sleep on Easter Sunday. Rebeca’s last grandparent.

So as we remain thankful for life, we remember those who have transitioned to their next stage of existence.

My brother’s recovery will be long and difficult.  But there is life.  The life that flows through my brother and my grandson, Logan. The life that flows through me. The life that flows through all of us.

Life … Light … Hope.

That is a future worth embracing.

Father’s Day and Tribes

Yesterday was Father’s Day.

A day upon which we remember, and hopefully honor our fathers. To acknowledge their lives and their contributions to our lives. To thank them for the indelible bond they formed with us when we were children.

Fathers are our first role model.  And by that, it could mean a very good, productive, strong role model.  Or possibly … not.

Many times, our path in life is initially shaped by our fathers. This could include our chosen profession. Our outlook on love, happiness and life. Ideally, we learn how to treat and honor our future partners by observing how our father interacted and engaged with our mother.

Many times, our views on education, on work ethic, on morality, on our leisure activities are shaped by our fathers. They support us when we are down. They share in our victories and our sorrows. Being the disciplinarian when needed. And perhaps, teaching us that life is hard. That we will fail early and often. But failing is not the important thing. So long as we embrace the need to pick ourselves up after each fall, learn from it, and use that to become wiser and bolder.

Collaboration and shared parenting with our mothers cannot be understated in terms of importance. From each, we learn something different. Something important.  And without that shared perspective on life, so too our own views on life can be rendered incomplete, or biased, or less enlightened and evolved.

In fact, the evidence is overwhelming … children are more likely to thrive— behaviorally and academically, and ultimately in the labor market and adult life—if they grow up with the advantages of a two-parent home. Numerous academic studies confirm that children raised in married parent homes are less likely to get in trouble in school or with the law; they are more likely to graduate high school and college; they are more likely to have higher income and be married themselves as adults. Research suggests that boys are especially disadvantaged by the absence of dads from their homes. These facts are indisputable.

And doesn’t that pertain to everything in life? A balance in friends, in work colleagues, in associates? Differing, yet intelligent views being debated respectfully. Being open to the endless possibilities in life that are before us. Without that diversity of thought, that diversity of wisdom, the views and perspectives that our dads brought to us, views very different than that brought by our mothers, we are incomplete. We are more likely to settle back into the comfort of those who think exactly like us, act like we do, have the same viewpoints and outlook on all issues. We become tribal.

It is inevitable that one of two manifestations occur in a tribe. One, we become complacent and lazy in our thinking and exploration. We only look for circumstances which support our tribe’s beliefs. After all, we are safe within our tribe. We do not need to expand our horizons. The group mentality predominates. We are correct on all issues within our tribe. 

The second manifestation is we become warlike. Because we are right, because we believe we are just, because we believe our tribe is all powerful, because we believe our views are the absolute best for society, we must impose our views on society as a whole. After all, it is for the common good. Our tribe knows best. And society WILL comply with our views.

This is particularly true in the eating disorder community and its tribe. Now make no mistake, these are two very different groups of people.

The eating disorder community consists of those families, husbands, wives, dads, moms, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters … people who are struggling with eating disorders. Those who are doing the suffering, the living and the dying.

But what constitutes the eating disorder community tribe? This tribe largely consists of women who tend to be politically and socially very far left; extremist in their disregard of medical sciences and related objective standards and criteria; wishing to enforce their view of centering persons based on the color of their skin or the larger product of mass and gravitational force applied instead of prioritizing those who are the most gravely ill; spewing forth their ideological blather regardless of accuracy and integrity knowing that the likelihood of adverse repercussions for their misconduct and irrational belief system is inconsequential.

As for dads and this eating disorder community tribe, observation and experience teach us that for the most part, dads are verboten … not welcome. Routinely dads are ostracized, forsaken, ignored, pushed aside, back stabbed. Unless of course that dad kowtows to the tribe’s uncompromising extremist views and meekly complies with the tribe’s dictates.

I could, once again, set forth the overwhelming facts and statistics supporting this opinion, as I did in this past article:

https://adadsjourneywitheatingdisorders.home.blog/2019/08/05/mobilize-the-marginalized-members/

But what would be the point? Again, those are simply statistics, facts, reason and logic. But the eating disorder tribe does not base its mania upon facts, reason and logic. Its mania embraces over the top emotionalism and self-loathing. Instead of debating and discussing complex biological, genetic and societal structures and proposing workable solutions, the tribe simply slaps a label on an issue, lifts high their pitchforks and burning torches and declares victory.

And the eating disorder community is worse off for that.

In the second part of this missive, we will look at the ramifications on eating disorders which have resulted from the attitudes and misconduct of the eating disorder community tribe. It is likely to not be pretty especially since we will look at facts, logic and reason.

But never forget, we dads persevere. We have resolve and resiliency. Yes, at times and ok, more often than not, we need direction. But we undertake tasks with passion, strength and determination.

Up until now, the eating disorder community tribe has acted with impunity, without interference or push back from dads. No longer.

That needs to end. For the sake of all.