Fireproof and High Flying Without a Net

WARNING: This post is personal and does not track Zachary' progress. Feel free to skip it if you are not interested or embarrassed about the content.

Fireproof - the movie. I watched it, Steve didn't. I kept on hearing what a great movie it was. This movie wasn't quite the inspiration I was hoping for.

What is Fireproof? It's a Christian movie starring Kirk Cameron from the 1980's TV show Growing Pains. Mr. Cameron plays a fire chief in a failing marriage, primarily due to his own neglect, who is guided by his father to attempt a 40-day experiment designed to teach the meaning of marriage commitment. The experiment consists primarily of performing a series of unselfish tasks each day.

You were only shown a snippet of these tasks. They refer you to a website for further information. If you go to the website, you are then referred to various products - buy these books, buy the DVD, buy the soundtrack, how about a t-shirt? No where that I could find is the content of this experiment. One must pay to get this. What a terrific marketing idea. It felt very contrived to me. And not particularly Christian.

I have little issue with the theme of this movie - in fact, with the trials and tribulations of our marriage, I was seriously hoping to see or hear something that I could take to my own marriage. Unfortunately, there was very little that way. I was well aware of the basic concept of performing tasks for our spouse without having something in return in mind. Guess I gotta buy the book.

The first real issues that Steve and I ever had in our marriage came right after the birth of Sophia. What a surprise right? It was a really tough time for us and for me personally. I found the transition to motherhood, particularly of a colicky baby, very difficult. (One of the reasons I promote for couples not to wait until their 30's to have children since I believe that I was really set in my ways which added to the difficulty of becoming a parent.) I was very angry with Steve - and if I rattled off my complaints, many of you would likely agree I had just reason to be. But being right isn't what I wanted. I wanted to be happy, and being married to the man who was the father of my children is important for me to be happy. I thought of the difficulty Steve was having of becoming a new parent. He likely had his own list of complaints about me.

This movie had some great content in it - I like the main character's work ethic, the fact they showed how pornography can affect a marriage - and the most realistic scene was of good ol' Kirk blowing his top at his wife. But he was made to be such a villain- where as the wife's transgression of becoming involved with another man was not quite put in the same light. This didn't make sense to me.

One of the things I found inspirational had nothing to do with the screenplay. I read that Kirk had his own wife dubbed into the portion of the movie where he is kissing his movie wife because he doesn't feel it is right to kiss another woman. I thought that sentiment was more endearing than some of ideas in the movie.

The movie did move me - but in ways I didn't want it to. I could not stop thinking about my father and how much I miss him when I watched it. Dad was a Syracuse fireman. He didn't talk about his job much, in fact, now that I look back, he didn't share a lot of personal information about himself to anyone. There is so much I don't know about him, that I wish I had the chance to now. I was so young, foolish, and selfish - I never asked. I theorize that some of the things I wanted to know would be difficult for him to talk about. Was he ever involved in a fire where they lost someone, maybe a child? What was his mother and father like? Was it hard to start your own family so far away from your extended family? Pops was from Georgia.

With Mom being sick and all that is going on with the kids, I realize there is no safety net in our lives right now. The honest and not so pretty truth is that Steve and I feel abandoned. We are flying on these trapeze and if we fall - splat. That's what parents are supposed to do for their kids, be the safety nets of security, even if it is just in presence alone. I need my Dad so much. He had a way about him, indescribable other than to say you felt loved. As a teenager, I could have rattled off a list of faults of my folks in 3 seconds flat. But if there is one and only one thing I know about them, it's that they were always there for me. Mom still is, despite her body failing her. I still need my dad. My kids need to know him. I miss him so much.

I can almost see Pops walking in the house knowing of Zach's special diet, carrying bags of groceries after cleaning out the gluten free aisle at Wegman's saying with his southern drawl "where's that boy". I can see Zach running to him saying Papa and smiling the biggest smile and giving him the biggest hug. I can see my Dad getting Zach to say words that none of us can because Pops just had a knack with kids. I saw my Dad with my nieces and nephews - I know how much he loved them. I want that for my kids. I hate how life is so freaking unfair. I hate that some of the things I want most I will not have in this lifetime. I hate that my heart is so heavy that I am lifeless, depressing and depressed, and stalled at getting anything accomplished for anyone. If he was around, could he help get me out of this rut?

He was a six foot three fireman - and he drank tea, and cried like a baby over anything regarding his family. He had a temper and loved food. He loved his grandkids and dogs. He liked sports and to drink a beer now and again. He loved grocery shopping and getting a deal. He converted to Catholicism as a surprise to my mother, and made each of my brothers-in-law state they would raise their kids Catholic when they asked for my sisters' hands in marriage. Sometimes when he laughed, and his accent really got strong, I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but he would get me laughing too. He knew when I was upset before anyone else, and would sit down and talk to me about it. He would tell me when I would fight with my mother that she was a good woman, and even though I was mad at her, I needed to love her, because she loved me more than I would ever know. Being a mother now, I get it.

One thing that autism and death of a parent have in common, is living with loss. Some people get over their loss easier than others. I still hurt when I think of my father. I have never become accustomed to him not being around, I have just become accustomed to the empty feeling I feel without his presence; living with a hurt so bad that once in awhile it still overwhelms me. Autism is something we are living with too - an overwhelming loss that you never get used to and that once in awhile creeps up on you, you feign that you know what you are doing, force a smile to not let them know you really want to cry, and you realize you are lost and trying to figure out what the heck to do. This moment passes, but don't worry, there will be another.

Having limited family connections is hard - the kids only get to see their Babcia Boulware regularly - usually once a week. We don't have grandparents that we can drop the kids off too. I feel more like those people I know who don't live near their families than like a person who has moved back to their hometown. I know people who have no support from their families for various reasons. This makes me so sad. It is just not the way it should be. I also know people who have these fantastic families - whose parents and siblings help out. I get so jealous of these people.

But this is the hand we have been dealt. If my Dad were here, I feel like it would be a lot easier to figure out. I feel like I could handle it. But for now, I will put my smile on my face, and just keep trying. Marriage is tough - but I really want it to work. Risk is something Steve and I usually avoid at all costs - but now it is time for us to learn risk management - what is worth attempting and isn't.

Nothing in life is guaranteed.