MetroDad

Spiritual? Definitely! Religious? Ehh. Not so much.

When I was eight years old, I was convinced that my Sunday school teacher hated my guts. So every weekend, when my parents dropped me off at the front door of the church, I'd walk straight through to the rear exit, change into gym clothes, and spend the next few hours playing basketball at a public court down the street.

By the time I finally got busted, it was the end of July. Unfortunately, at the end of every summer, the church put all the Sunday school students on display in front of the entire congregation, an annual event at which we were supposed to impress the elders with our vast canonical knowledge of the bible. Despite the fact that my church education for the year had been cut short due to my delinquency, I was informed that my presence was absolutely required.

During the event, the reverend turned to us and asked if we knew all of God's different names. One child answered, "Yahweh." Another called out, "Jehovah." Then, to my utter fear and horror, the reverend turned to me and said, "How about you, Pierre? Do you know God's name?"

Trying to think fast on my feet, I yelled out, "Yes! God's name is Howard!"

The reverend's face turned quizzical and he asked, "Why would you say that God's name is Howard?"

"Because it says so right in the Lord's Prayer! 'Our father who art in Heaven, Howard be thy name!'"

With that, the entire congregation burst out laughing hysterically and the vast scope of my religious ignorance was exposed for everyone to see. Needless to say, my days at church were numbered after that traumatic experience.

Flash forward 30 years later...

Members of my father-in-law's church congregation visit his house to pray for him. As the pastor begins to recite a long and solemn prayer, the Peanut walks into the room eating a candy bar. Confused as to why everyone has their eyes closed and their heads bent, she immediately starts yelling, "Hey! Wake up, guys. It's not nap time yet."

Receiving no attention to her remarks, she then proceeds to walk up to random people, forcefully prying their eyes open with her little fingers, and saying "C'mon. Please don't go to bed now. The sun is still awake!"

As my mother-in-law stifles her laughter, one of the members of the congregation turns to the BossLady and whispers, "So I guess you guys don't go to church much, eh?"

Damn. Is it that obvious?

Thanks for all your kind comments and heartfelt e-mails. We're truly touched by your sympathies. Unfortunately, my FIL's cancer is worse than we had previously thought. We'll be spending the next few months commuting between New York and Dallas on a weekly basis. Posting here may be light. Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers.

Lonely is the night

You miss your wife and daughter terribly.

It's late at night. Your apartment feels cavernously empty. The silence seems to echo off the brick walls and reverberate noiselessly. How is that possible? The TV hums in the background. You sigh heavily and, as you gaze upon a photo of your wife and daughter, you pour yourself another scotch.

Things changed so quickly. Only a week ago, you and your family awoke to one of those beautiful spring mornings in Manhattan, the kind of morning that always rekindles your unabated love for this city. Your daughter is practically bursting at the seams with excitement. "Isn't it a beautiful day, guys? When you pick me up today, let's all go to the park for a picnic. Hooray! Picnics!" You and your wife smile and laugh at your daughter's unbridled enthusiasm. Together, all three of you walk out of your apartment building. Rays of golden sunshine warm your faces.

Three hours later, you leave the office briefly to get another dose of that midtown sun. You chat amiably with the Pakistani newstand owner downstairs as the two of you share a cigarette. You both agree that it really is a beautiful day. Despite your yearning to flee from work and enjoy the outdoors, you return upstairs to your office.

Immediately as you walk in, your co-worker runs up to you. "Call your wife. It's an emergency."

In the seconds that it takes for you to dial her number, your mind races. Since your wife is the one calling, you assume that nothing bad has happened to her. What else would constitute an emergency? Has something happened to your daughter? Your heart is racing.

When your wife answers, all you hear are the anguished sounds of her sobbing uncontrollably. Between choking sobs and gulps of air, you hear only isolated words. Father. Liver cancer. Inoperable. Tumor. 8 cm.

Your gut wrenches. A sickening feeling falls into the pit of your stomach. For some strange reason, you're reminded of that tragic morning of 9/11. Another beautiful day that started out with so much promise yet ended with so much pain.

The next 24 hours are a dizzying combination of activity and emotion. Phone calls are made. Tears are shed. Sympathies are laid bare. You learn that everyone reacts differently in these situations.

We all do what we have to in order to get by.

Your wife decides to get on a plane immediately so she can see her ailing father. You agree that it will be easier for everyone if you and your daughter stay at home. You both think you have it all figured out. However, when you telephone your mother-in-law to inform her of the news, she pauses for a moment and then tells you that it's great that your wife is coming to see them. However, the doctor said that her husband needs to enjoy life as much as possible now. Things might get worse soon. That being said, your mother-in-law tells you, do you think the Peanut could come to Texas also? Nothing would make him happier.

You and your wife look at each other and agree wholeheartedly. Knowing how much joy can come from being around a fun-loving toddler, you both know that this is one of the best (and only) things that you can do for her father right now. You also know it's hard to cry when you're laughing so hard. And one thing your daughter does do is provide lots of laughter.

So as you sit alone in your apartment missing your family and thoroughly depressed over your father-in-law's illness, you decide to watch some videos that you took last week. In one, your daughter is demonstrating how if mom and dad will not give her a baby sister, she will make one by herself. And as you sit there with tears in your eyes, you cannot help but start laughing again.

It's true. Laughter really is the best medicine.

I'm having a baby sister from Pierre Kim on Vimeo.

We love you, Dad, and we're thinking about you all the time.