Resolutions are Overrated

This time of year is all about looking back at 2016 and resolutions for 2017.  I’ll go on record now that this whole “New Year, New Me” is complete crap.  Your phone calendar (let’s be honest, you don’t have a real one) changing from 12-31 to 1-1 isn’t some breath of fresh air.  It’s going to be a difference in Saturday to Sunday and that’s about it.  Resolutions to me are just words on a page.  Most, and I say most, people don’t have the mindset to pursue and conquer those things on their phone memo pad (let’s be honest, you didn’t write them in pen on paper). 

Every day that passes is another day without my Sweet little girl.  Time only brings me farther from the last day I held her, but another closer to when I can see her again.  Isn't that a bitch?  It is up to me what I do between those times.  To hell with goals of losing weight and saving money.  Life changes in an instant.  I’ll be more mindful of those things, but that’s not what I need to focus on.  Resolutions should be a mindset, not a single “thing” I believe.  It will hit the fan at some point and I’ll eat that whole pizza and the money will be gone, but it doesn’t mean I’ve lost or it’s time to give up.  Cry in the bathroom, cuss for a few minutes, and keep on truckin.  That’s all I know how to do. It doesn't fix the situation, but it does help to cuss after crying.

2016 was the worst year of my life to date.  Losing Penelope will forever have changed me.  Mostly for the worse, I won’t lie.  I’m not going to look back much because I’ve visited that too many times in the past 24 hours internally, and about 25 times through this blog.  That’s what brings me to 2017.  A calendar year that I won’t have P, but I will have a different mindset, and I hope that many of my friends do too.  I can only think of 3 things that I think would serve as some type of hopes for a new year.

1)      Make a Difference: I don’t know exactly what I will make a difference in, because if I set my sights on one thing, I’ll miss 10 more.  Maybe it will be helping fight for Access to Medical Marijuana.  Maybe it will be one of my students or football players.  Maybe it will be in this book I’m trying to write.  Who knows and at this point I don’t really care.  I just want to Make a Difference and make Coach Brimer proud.  I don’t know what those people in my life are planning to do, but it’d be nice for them to Make a difference too, and maybe stop complaining so much on Facebook while they are at it.

2)      Simplify my life:  Too much of my time is scrolling through B.S. on Social Media, thinking about that same B.S. in my life, and flipping through useless channels watching something like Teen Mom with Ellen.  (Teen Mom is a trainwreck, don’t turn it on, you can’t turn it off.)  There are too many books to read, too much to see outside, and too little of time to do it all in.  I hope the people in my life will do the same, less B.S. on Facebook will allow me more time to do these things.  Hit the power button and enjoy something without a cord.

3)      Learn to Smile Again:  Depression hits you like a train and takes the fun out of pretty much everything.  The other night playing Cards Against Humanity with some of my friends, was the 1^st time I’ve genuinely laughed and smiled until I couldn’t stand it.  I need to learn again how to do that.  I’m sure I’ve missed things the past couple months that could have been a good time, but I just didn’t have it in me.  I hope that those around me do the same.  Life sucks, and it will continue to suck if you don’t do something about it.  Brigham Lyons said it best, “If you don’t like your situation, do something about it, quit bitching.”

My Last Letter to Cancer

Dear You,

                I’m not even going to say your name because I’ve already given you enough time in my life.  I wrote you on May 24^th, but since that time I’ve learned to despise you even more.  You took my little girl, but you also took a whole lot more.  I’m only writing you this because it’s time I lift you up off my chest and let you go back to whatever hell hole you crawled out of.  This isn’t about some New Year’s resolution, I think those are ridiculous anyway.  This is about letting you know what you took and what you won’t ever have.

                You took a piece of my soul.  My little girl was my everything, and I watched it fade away as you left me helpless.  You made me depressed and anxious from the time I wake up to the time I try to fall asleep.  I had to start taking pills just to get some type of sleep.  Congrats on successfully screwing up my awake time and taking over my dreams.  Asshole.  Because of you, I don’t always pick up the phone when my friends call and I have to give the “I’m fine” line to people when they ask me how I am.  You almost took coaching away from me.  My gym time was few and far between.  It was supposed to be an outlet for my hatred for you, but it only made it worse sometimes because I was weaker than a 12 yr old girl.  I closed out my parents and made my wife want to hit me with a baseball bat.  I didn’t care if the sun came up and the rain no longer made me think of our dance and smile.  That’s what you did to me, and that’s what you do to most people I’m sure.      

                You couldn’t take away everything.  You actually gave me a lot.  In your own crappy way, you opened my eyes to a place and the people of St. Judes.  I’ve now seen God and his work first hand, and that is something most people never get.  You made me thankful for friends that don’t stop calling and don’t stop showing me what true friends are.  You gave me a renewed sense of purpose in coaching and through a young man handing me a book a few days ago made me realize that I am making a difference.  You showed me how when people come together as a community what can be done.  I have a quilt made from some special girls that represents all the love that our family has felt.  I have a wife that through our worst times still loves me and puts up with my ups and downs.  I have a tattoo that will make me forever remember what it means to be a Dad and to never let her name be forgotten.  You took a part of me that day in June; but you created a world around me that won’t let me fail.

                You took a lot and slammed many doors in my face.  You took my sense of purpose in life.  But hey asshole, I’m still standing.  I’m still a Dad, I’m learning to live again, and Penelope’s name is still just as strong as they day you got here.  I still have a million pictures and videos (mainly thanks to Ellen) so all those good times will always be there.  St. Jude’s will never close its doors because that is a fight you will never win.  There are too many parents, doctors, communities, donors, and most importantly kids that are stronger than you will ever think of being.  You might win battles, but you won’t win the war.  I’m done with you and letting you ruin what’s left of Andy McCall.  I just can’t take it anymore; so I won’t.  F you Cancer, deuces.

                                                                                                                 Sincerely,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Penelope’s Dad

The Missing Present

Her stocking hangs there in its spot next to her Mama’s.  Her pictures are on the mantle, the table, behind me, on my cell phone, and on the computer.  Her boppy is right under this computer as I type.  Her Poppy cat is cuddled on her spot right above Tink on the couch.  Her pink tree sits in the front room with all her ornaments just as they were last year.  I moved her urn to the front of her special place so that the lights shine off the side if you look at it just right.  The only thing missing is her. The piece of my heart that is hers is no longer there, but broken into tiny pieces all over my soul.

Yes I’m depressed and have anxiety at some point every single day.  Yes I cry when I see all these cute things I could be buying her.  Yes I get pissed when I walk by a storefront that has something pretty that my baby would have looked cute in.  I struggle constantly finding something to look forward to.  I truthfully get upset when I have to look at others Christmas cards and we don’t have one.  I get pissed when I think of all these people that will be opening presents and being ungrateful because it is the wrong size or color.  I scroll as fast as I can on social media so I don’t have to look at the fun things your are doing with your kids.  Minus that creepy as hell Elf on the Shelf, you can keep that stupid thing to yourself.  I cry watching videos and looking at pictures because that is all I have left.  I give fake smiles to people as I walk by, because that’s the best I’ve got.

All those things are what a Dad goes through who lost his little girl.  There’s a million other emotions and triggers that I have to navigate every day.  Those feelings have also made me see the flip side of it.  I don’t get pissed at all those Minnie Mouses or fairies that fill my house.  I stopped being mad at that “cute stuff” Ellen bought when scroll through pics and see her wearing it.  I smile at those Christmas cards the 2^nd time I look at it because those families were there for us when we needed it and are pretty much our family too.  I don’t look forward to much, but I know that those 8 yr olds are looking forward to seeing me.  I am grateful for neighbors that bring by a card, kids that hand me a gift card, and a young man that gave me a gift with his own words written in the inside cover.  I’m more grateful for those little gestures than ever before.  I’m happy for social media because it gives me an escape to share my feelings, read the ridiculous posts on My Greeneville, and look at Daquan’s Instagram.  Those same videos that make me cry also give me the strength to make it through the rest of the day. 

I’m not getting into the Reason for the Season vs. Christmas trees and presents and how it should make me feel.  I’m just trying to make it through a meal without having to go upstairs and be alone.  My little angel fairy is celebrating her 1^st Christmas without being sick or hurting.  She gets to stare at all the Christmas lights, not just ours.  She can be on a mountain in Montana or on the beach in Florida, but I know she’ll be here with us on the couch.  I truly want Christmas to come and go this year, I don’t know any other way.  I hope your Christmas is all you want it to be, live in the moment, and listen in it too.  There will be joy and we will all smile at some point, it might just not come as easy as it has in the past.

Nothing more was needed...

I’m writing this one more for me, but maybe you’ll get something out of it.  I have a special kind of relationship with my grandmother.  Mainly because she’s cool as anybody I know, or maybe it’s because I’m her favorite.

Tonight will forever go down as a moment I’ll never forget.  Some know my grandmother Brit, some have heard the legends, some have heard me tell stories about her, and I promise whatever you have heard are all true.  In her 97 years, she has gained a lot of knowledge that I’ve tried to soak in over the years.  No matter what you do though, she will always have a comment on it or tell you that you could have done it just a little different.  If I’m 97, you best believe I’m going to tell you that you are an idiot and should have done it completely different.

Sitting in her chair, looking at me from across the table, she took a deep breath and said, “I don’t have to worry now, I think you’ve got it down pat.”  It didn’t need more sage, it didn’t need another cup of chicken stock and butter.  It didn’t need more celery or onions.  It was right.  The dressing was right and it couldn’t have been better in her eyes.  Dressing seems like a trivial thing, but it is something that I have worked at doing well in her eyes.  I finally did something of hers completely right; nothing more was needed.

The only thing I needed more of tonight was time with her.  I’ve spent countless hours in that house through the years and I realized tonight I hadn’t always been listening.  I learned with Penelope that you must live in the moment.  I learned tonight that you must listen in the moment as well.  I listened to how she’s been solving the Cryptquip but can’t do Soduko.  I listened to her criticize Vanna White’s hairdo and how she’d spend the $50 million Powerball if she won.  We laughed, we talked about things going on, and just had some good times together.  I hung on every word tonight for some reason.  I couldn’t think of anything better.

I hope that whatever you get to listen to this holiday weekend that you soak in and are 100% in the moment.  Those stories you’ve heard 100 times will one day be gone.  The people sitting there won’t always be there.  You’ve heard it 1,000 times I know, but did you really listen?  

To my boys

           This time of year, when the pads are put up and the stadium bare, a coach really starts to examine the past year and if he did all he could.  I’m not at the high school, so I feel even more detached than if I was walking the halls with them.  The same boys I spent more time with than my wife haven’t seen me in a couple weeks.  I wish I could call or text every one of them every day, but other than they don’t have time for that, I hope that what I’ve taught them doesn’t require me to be there with them for it to come about.  I’ll pull a page out of Coach Brimer’s book and just put it here.  Maybe they’ll read it…maybe they won’t. 

To my boys:

            I promised you the first time you walked into that field house that I would never give up on you if you don’t give up on me.  When my daughter passed away this summer, I wanted to give up.  I wasn’t going to come back and coach this year.  I was going to go back on my promise and leave you there on that field without me.  You would have been just fine and probably never missed a beat.  Something happened though that stuck with me and I couldn’t shake.  #16 looked me in the eye after P’s service and asked me in his own way, “When you think you’ll come back around?” From that moment on, along with Ellen telling me to go, I knew I had to be there. 

            You wore my daughter’s initial on your helmet thanks to Coach Ballard.  That meant more to me than I ever could truly tell you.  My Thunder gang got to see me cry before the 1^st game because of it.  I no longer get to see my little girl, but I got a reminder every day when I looked in your eyes that she was there.  She would have been proud of you.

            You didn’t win every game and yes that sucks.  The thing is, in 10 years is that single game you lost going to matter more than all that we tried to instill in you?  If it does, then we as coaches didn’t get through to you.  Football isn’t life, it is part of life.  What you learned in all those summer workouts, team meetings, HUDL studies, and halftime adjustments will transcend touchdowns and scoreboards.  You are ahead in life because of the values you learned across Palmer Street.  At some point in life, you will come across a situation that will take you to your knees, but I promise that you will stand back up.  You will be able to handle what comes at you.  It is in you.  It might be buried deep, but so was that last 100 at 5pm in 103 degree heat.  Don’t ever give up; I almost did and I almost regretted a part of my life.

            I’ll always pick up the phone.  I’ll always be there to talk.  I’m not a Hall of Fame coach and I probably won’t ever have my name on some plaque for some crazy record.  I’m just Coach McCall who was never a hypocrite and told you how it was whether you liked it or not.  I kept it 100 with you all the time.  You hated me, you hugged me, and you might even have learned something from me along the way.  I’ll always ask you how you are and if you have all A’s in college because I care.  Always tell your Mom you love her, don’t waste an opportunity in front of you, and have fun.  You will make bad decisions along the way, just don’t let them define you.  Don’t let anyone define you.  You do it on your terms, not someone else’s. 

Deep in the Timeline

June 9^th wasn't that long ago.  It seems like forever because every day I wake up in the same hell as the day before.  I made sure that during those last times I lived in the moment.  I soaked up every single second that I could because I knew those seconds wouldn't last forever.  I was wrong.  I relive those seconds every single day at some point.  I can tell you every single thing that happened from the time I got the call from Ellen to the second I felt all the breath leave her body onto my neck for the last time.  The problem with all that is I’m not living in the moment now.  I’m not even close to that and it took 3 minutes of scrolling through Darren Reese’s pictures to make me realize that.

            If you don’t know Darren Reese, then you are missing out.  The stories he tells through his pictures are pretty much unbelievable and his appreciation for a good beer is on the same level as mine.  Long story short, I saw a picture I forgot about this morning and went scrolling through his timeline to find the original.  Let’s just say that took a while.  In the process I noticed pictures of things I was a part of that I had never seen before.  I forgot about football games, accomplishments, current events, and so much more.  Timelines since June are almost nonexistent because I play the same one in my head over and over.  I've missed out on so much more and cheated myself because I’m depressed and anxious about making it through the next hour and not living in that hour.

            It isn’t going to change any time soon, but damn, it about brought me to tears.  I had no idea what some of those pictures were, and I was probably no more than 50 feet away from them in the background somewhere.  Depression makes you live in the background.  It takes away what is in front of you and although you can mask it with a fake smile and “I’m fine”, it doesn't change the fact that I won’t remember this moment because I’m replaying the time Penelope held my hand all the way from Florida a few days before she passed away. 

            Live in the moment.  Don’t be in the background.  It’s a dark place that doesn't look the same for everyone.  My background is in the middle of 1,000 people and a touchdown that I can’t even remember.  They say you live and you learn.  I say you need to learn while you live or it isn't living at all.

How are you?

“How are you?” is probably one of the worst questions there is.  For one I’m going to answer with “I’m fine” and smile, which are both a lie.  The second thing is you really don’t want to hear the real answer.  Before I begin with the real answer though, I truthfully appreciate the people that ask “How are you?” and genuinely care.  It really does help for that split second to lift my spirits, but sorry I must lie to your face.  

So here’s the truth:

I’m not fine, I’m the exact opposite of fine.  I start my day usually crying for a few minutes because I have to walk by pictures and an urn instead of a snoring and drooling little girl.  I don’t want to get out of bed to pee much less go through another day.  The last thing I want to do is interact with people and have conversations.  I don’t want to watch that kid suffer in class when I know their parents could give a crap about what they do.  I don’t even like working out any more, but I have to because with depression comes eating and I’d weigh 400 pounds if I didn’t.  I don’t like picking up the phone when my friends call and usually stare at the screen until it goes to voicemail.  I get mad at stuff around the house that doesn’t even matter.  I make my wife, the one person I can’t go without, cry and not like me with stupid decisions and comments.  I spent 2 hours of Thanksgiving laying in bed staring at Penelope’s Bunny because I couldn’t handle being around people and faking it anymore.  I smile, laugh, and joke around while inside I’m trying not to throw up and holding back tears because something I’m doing is probably reminding me of P and I’m hoping that I can leave to go sit on the couch as soon as possible and hold her boppy.  I look like I’m holding it together, but there’s the truth, I'm not.

I don’t want extra calls or texts, I probably won’t pick it up any way.  I am depressed but I have to learn how to deal with it my way.  I don’t want to leave my house, but I do.  I have an obligation to my kids to give them a great day and I will do that, no matter what’s wrong with me.  So for those of you that I do encounter during the day, I appreciate you and yeah, “I’m fine.”