Everything I Do Reminds Me of You...by van morrison

We are all Van Morrison fans in our home. The boys knew the words to Brown Eyed Girl about the time they learned A, B, C, D, E, F, G....

The Back on Top CD from a few years ago includes the song "Reminds Me of You". How many times did I listen to this CD and not feel the words prior to May of this year? Maybe a 100. Maybe 200 times. Near the end of May I was driving aimlessly around Madison trying to go no where. Back on Top was in the player where it was put by me and not removed by Aaron. Hearing the song I felt every blue note.

In the months since Aaron died I have become aware of a sense that I can touch and feel emptyness. For example, standing in the garage looking down the driveway, I can feel the space between my arm and the wall. Maybe 10 feet at most and it feels like a hundred yards. The space has a density. We stood in that garage on May 8th. Aaron asked me questions and we shared ideas. The conversation is not finished. I have questions for him too.

Reminds Me of You, by Van Morrison

I miss you so much, I can’t stand it
Seems like my heart, is breaking in two
My head says no but my soul demands it
Everything I do, reminds me of you
I miss you so much, in this house full of shadows
While the rain keeps pouring down, my window too
When will the pain, recede to the darkness
From whence it has come, and I’m feeling so blue
Ain’t goin’down, no more to the wellSometimes it feels like, I’m going to hell
Sometimes I’m knocking, on your front door
But I don’t have nothing, to sell no more
Seems like the spirit, is pushing me onwards
I’m able to see, where I tripped and went wrong
I’ll just have to guess, where my soul will find comfort
And I miss you so much, when I’m singing my song
Ain’t goin’ down, no more to the wellAnd sometimes it seems, I’m going to hell
You’ll find me knocking, on your front door
But I don’t have nothing, to sell no more
Seems like my spirit, is pushing me onwards’
til I’m able to see where, I tripped when I went wrong
I’ll just have to guess, where my soul will get comfort
I miss you so much, when I’m singing my song
I miss you so much, I can’t stand it
Seems like my heart is breaking in two
My head says no, but my soul demands it
And everything I do, reminds me of you
Everything I do, reminds me of you
Everything I do, reminds me of you


Today was a wonderful day. Tomorrow will be too. But I still miss you.

Love and Peace
Dad

Aaron J. Meyer Foundation

Amy Jenna AJ Abby Kara





Exactly one year ago we took Aaron to the airport to catch a flight back to Mount Bachelor Academy near Bend, Oregon. Aaron had just completed a fabulous one week home visit which included tremendous family time, purchasing a guitar, a suit and attending the DeForest Homecoming football game. Aaron had no regrets about missing his senior season. We, he and I, built a bon fire in our fire pit and burned his old football practice gear. “That was then Dad, this is now. Football is in the past. I’m responsible for having lost what I lost and I’m not looking back.”

On Saturday night, some of Aaron’s good friends came over to see him before their night out. We wondered how Aaron would feel after they left and he was not able to go along. Aaron went about his business with an attitude of grace packing his things for the morning flight. He was grateful for the girls stopping to see him, and ready to get back to work at school. No regrets. No nostalgia.

Sunday morning Aaron walked through the Dane County Airport terminal dressed in a new suit over a Beatles T-shirt, sandals on his feet, a guitar over one shoulder and a toting a back pack sporting a red, white and blue peace symbol. Aaron had become comfortable being Aaron. He was living in the present.


The process of mourning, as described by the author Andre Comte-Sponville in A Small Treatise on the Great Virtues, is a process of gratitude. Nearly five months into our journey, suffering IS stronger than gratitude as we cry: How awful he should have died! How can we accept this?

Mourning is painful. Difficult. Necessary. And we are assured by Jesus, ancient thinkers, contemporary philosophers, and friends who promise joy returns in spite of everything. The joy glimmers in our lives. We have faith in God that the pulse will glow into brilliance. Not overnight, not one day, but one day and one night stacked atop of one and another. These hours are the foundation on which we take right actions to do right things.

A year ago…five months ago, Aaron was living and breathing the life of a teenager who was not looking to change the world, but to just keep his side of the street clean. Today, Aaron J. Meyer is a spirit of the universe. He may have left the world a slightly better place for having lived. Aaron certainly left more than he took.


Epicurus, a 4th Century Greek philosopher who taught freedom from the fear of death wrote: Sweet is the memory of the departed friend. And gratitude is the sweetness itself, when it becomes joyous.

The Aaron J. Meyer, Foundation will never replace Aaron. It can be an effective instrument of grace. Whether it becomes anything at all is up to you. Someday a recipient of AJM Foundation love my say “How fortunate that Aaron Meyer had lived!”

Cathy, Patrick, and I are grateful to you members of the Aaron J. Meyer Foundation. We are grateful that you exist. Grateful that you live.

Peace and Best Wishes,

Tom, Cathy, and Patrick Meyer

God Does Give Us More Than We Can Handle

Last Friday I was driving to Antigo to visit my Mom and other family. Changing stations on the radio I heard a voice that caused me to stop searching. I felt that this person had something for me and I had better listen. Dr. Tony Evans www.TonyEvans.org was preaching on the topic: Where is God When It Hurts? OK. You got my attention.

Dr. Evans told me this: I'm going to correct a lie you've been told all your life. I'm going to dispell a notion that has been taught in our schools, and our churches, passed down from generation to generation. I'm going to correct a grave misstatement. Here it is:

We've been told all our lives "God will not give you more than you can handle." That is not true. God does allow to happen in our lives, tragedy, loss, misfortune, heartache beyond what we can handle...ALONE. Alone we are eventually crushed by what God allows to happen to us in this life.

Somewhere in this list of postings, maybe about May 10, 11 or 12 of this year, I pondered this absurd concept. I remember writing something to say if God will give us no more than we can handle, we should all be weak, helpless people and God will pass over us when it comes time to divy out the burdens of grief. "Oh, he's a weak soul, I'll just give him a few rainy days, but this fellow, he's so strong he can handle the loss of a son or daughter!" What kind of god forces people to turn to him/her for personal pleasure? Sadistic behavior can not be a characteristic of God.

The point of Dr. Evans, as I hear it is this: We are living life on earth. Earth is not heaven. On earth we will experience great sorrow some time in our life. God does not kill children. But, children can be killed in this world. When tragedy strikes, we have the same choice Jesus had at his time of despair... Go it alone (Pride) or turn to God (prayer). When we turn to God in prayer and ask for compassion, mercy, wisdom, and knowledge of his will we grow closer to God. Healing can occur in a healthy environment. Prayer prepares a healthy environment.

A blessing to me is to have experienced people reaching out to my family and myself in so many ways. Big and small. People who I never, or hardly knew. People who I've known for a long time, but not in the way of compassion.

Nine months ago tomorrow Aaron pointed me in a direction down a road I am grateful we took together. He was doing God's work and I did recognize it right away. Fortunately for me, I thanked Aaron, when he was alive, for what he did for me. Aaron thanked Cathy and me for what we did for him. I'm a lucky Dad.

Heaven is not found on earth. God is found in prayer and other people. I have found I can be sensitive, beyond what I had ever been before May, to other people who are suffering. What is coming next?

By the way, I read in the State Journal today this fun fact: So far in 2005, traffic fatalities in Dane County are down to 30 from 38 a year ago. About a 25% reduction. And still our son, your friend, is one of the statistics. Air Bear.

Peace and Prayers for Your Family from Ours.

Tom

The Wrong End of a Phone Call

Driving home from Antigo yesterday I recalled the phone call which started us down this river that never ends:

Person calling: Mr. Meyer, I'm calling from the Dane County Sheriff's Department, North East Precinct. Do you have a son-- Aaron Meyer?

Me: (Proudly) Yes I do.

What if I had not answered the call? If I never let the man deliver his news, maybe the tragedy never happens. Does he move on to call the Father of another son, never to come back to me?

In about 1990 I saw and heard a lady in my office unsuspectingly answer a call in a polite, business manner "Hello, this is Karen." The caller asked Karen a question to identify her and then delivered his message. Her young daughter would be about 37 or 38 now.

In 1997 my sister and her husband took a call at about midnight. Their 15 year old son won't turn 24 this year.

Imagine the calls made around the country every day. I'd like to believe that the tragedy may pass on if the caller is unable to reach you. I knew of these calls and I know I never wanted to receive one. I'm positive I'd not want to make the call. I have mercy for the men and women who's job it is to change the lives of people in a heart breaking instant. In retrospect, there is no right end to that phone call.

Discovery:

I found Aaron's book bag last Thursday. The book bag with a peace symbol he sewed on.The contents: The Stanger, by Albert Camus (complete with Aaron bite marks as if he held it by the spine in his teeth) and Moby Dick by Herman Melville. Two pair of dirty socks, an empty package of Big Red gum, several Stop The War pamphlets for an anti-war rally, and a book report on Catch a Fire. Aaron writes: Bob Marley is a peaceful and loving man. He expresses what's right for his people through his music. He is a freedom fighter. Marley stands for more than Rastafari and bud.

He also carried a MATC school planning guide and some notes from school. In a side pocket I found a broken bead necklace he wore last fall on a home visit. Patrick said he can fix it. In a shirt pocket I found a multi-colored string bracelet. Looking at a picture from last September I noticed Aaron wearing both the bracelet and necklace. Both are visible in the photo from September '04. That's Cathy talking to somone likey glowing about having her baby boy home for a week.

I'm wearing the bracelet and remembering what was and thanking God for having had Aaron, and for having Patrick and Cathy. On this river that never ends, we need to stay close to God.

Molly, an upland, pointing bird dog, "pointing" a small flock of mallards working our decoys in Canada. 

Aaron and Molly, Just Chillin'. Christmas 2004. 

Recollection of a Bird Dog

Thirteen summers ago Patrick was 1 1/2 and Aaron was a wild child of 5. Over the course of the previous few years, I had gotten Aaron worked up about getting a puppy...I wanted a bird dog. Cathy conceded with the requirement that I follow our friend Tim Kritter's advice on type of dog (Engilsh Setter like his dog Finder) and from where to get this pet/hunting companion (from Breeder Wally Braun in Germantown). I agreed to do as she said and promptly went off on my own to locate a Brittney Spaniel in somewhere Minnesota.

Hearing of my decision to not take his advice, Tim called and layed out his thoughts. I understand better today how Tim is successful at persuasion...at least when it comes to me. Thirteen summers ago Tim spoke of how it just seemed right that we each would own English Setters. "We're going to be hunting together for a long time. Just think of us in the field with a couple of pheasants, sun going down, with our tired Setters... We're Setter guys, Tom." Tim implored me to think about the future before I decided. Kind of the same as my Dad used to say "Think ahead" but with with images.

As usual, I took Tim's advice and never regretted it. We located Wally Braun and found his breed line near Lake Geneva. We were in luck, Redford's Delight was the proud papa of a liter of English Setter pups born to EZD. We made the trip to pick out a puppy and I know Aaron was one eager little boy. The breeder put one puppy out at a time for us to hold and pet. It looked like we had one female that would be right for us, until he climbed into the pen and took out the second to smallest white and ORANGE, as I was corrected later, female. This little cutie went right for Aaron's shoe laces and untied them...they were rarely tied, and he usually had velcro bands, but this day he had shoe lace shoes and they were tied. Aaron and the puppy were pals from the start. The puppy picked us, and by the looks of her today, she's never regretted it.

When Aaron was growing up Molly, Aaron and I spent many happy hours hunting pheasants and ducks. Not many Setters take to water but Molly is an exception. Aaron and I would paddle the canoe out into a marsh or river, with Molly standing paws on the bow and tailing wagging in Aaron's face.

Aaron greatly missed Molly during his 13 month stay at Mount Bachelor. He feared she would forget him. It didn't take long for the two to reunite. Aaron and Molly shared a passion for sleeping anywhere. On the floor in the sun, the couch, Aaron's room, Patrick's room. The boys would have a virtual tug of war with her at night coaxing Molly to sack out with them. Aaron would tell Patrick that he had her all to himself for all those months and he deserved to have her. Patrick countered with the fact that he feeds her and took care of her for all those months so he earned her. Usually Aaron would win by being Aaron and Molly would start the night in his room...ending up where she pleased.

One of Aaron's persistent woes was "Mom, what will we do when Molly dies??" No dog could ever replace Molly for Aaron. Same for each of us. While discovering blogs, I found fascinating art on the site of David Macri, an artist in Canada. www.DavidMacri.BlogSpot.com. In the late winter/early spring, I struck up an email conversation with David about doing a painting of Molly and me for a "Father's Day Gift". I told the boys what I thought would be the perfect gift. I suggested this would be something I would love forever and they could fight over who gets to own the art work later.

Having the painting by Father's Day became of little consequence soon after when Aaron died. After a while, David and I began to exchange messages again and David renewed my interest. What I was thinking of and what David painted are not the same. That's part of the beauty. David did not know this fact: Aaron, Molly and I spent time together in a duck blind. Patrick, Molly and I spent time together in a duck blind. My dad and I, without a dog, spent time together in a duck blind. If you look at the lower left of the marsh scene, you will notice a dad and a boy...no dog.

While discussing hunting this spring, Aaron insisted to Patrick that the three of us would hunt ducks together. As a father of two boys, and a guy who grew up hunting with a dad, I thought we would spend lots of time hunting...the three of us. It's not going to happen, but that's not as important as the time we did spend together. God knows it is healthy to remember, not so to regret.

Molly and Tim's Finder were best of hunting buddies, as are Tim and I. After Finder died, Molly would still run to the back of Tim's SUV jumping up to see her pal, but her place was empty. With "Finder" Tim had a fabulous bird dog and a fitting name. Molly is the name selected by Aaron and Cathy...no input from Patrick as he spoke little until he turned 4.
I think Tim considered Molly a pedestrian name with no real imagination behind it (Actually Eazy Red Molly after Mom- EZD and Dad- Redford's Delight). Today Tim has a new dog he acquired last year...already named. You know the name that came with the pup: Molly! Poetic justice, my friend. Thank you for leading me to the right dog for the memories.

On David Macri, he must be more than an artist to capture, in Happy Hunting Grounds, Molly's personality and my memories.

I'm grateful for having virtually met David Macri. You can meet him at David_Macri@msn.com.

Happy Memories

Tom

Molly deep thoughts on deep thoughts 

Wake Me Up When September Ends

This evening, with the sun setting behind me, I walked across Steve Pederson's field and recalled a walk I took with Aaron last September down the same path. We talked about how things had changed from the September of '03. Aaron was so much at peace with his life in 9/04. He had recently completed 40 days in the desert of Idaho learning respect for nature learning about himself.

Today Cathy, Patrick and I share the same heartache, and constant edge of tears, physically aching turmoil of emotions trying to fit Aaron's void into our lives. It's not possible that the door will not open and we once again hear the easy "hey" from Aaron. We'll all wake up with relief that this was all a long nightmare.

For the first time, ever I think, I sat in Aaron's chair at the dinner table. What a different perspective I felt from such a simple thing. Aaron sat directly across from me and next to Cathy and Patrick. Sort of the way we usually conducted our relationship; Aaron beside Cathy and Patrick and opposite me. God what I would give for one more disagreement/debate/dispute with him.

As I walked toward Steve's house, I got tears in my eyes remembering Aaron as he was that September mornin: dishelved hair-a little long, white T-shirt-a little small, cords , sandals, strong arms-very long, big hands. A line from this song came to mind:

GREEN DAY LYRICS "Wake Me Up When September Ends"

Summer has come and passed.

The innocent can never last.

Wake me up when september ends.

Like my fathers come to pass.

Seven years has gone so fast.

Wake me up when september ends.

Here comes the rain again.

Falling from the stars.

Drenched in my pain again.

Becoming who we are as my memory rests.

But never forgets what I lost.

Wake me up when september ends.

Summer has come and passed.

The innocent can never last.

Wake me up when september ends.

Ring out the bells again like we did when spring began.

Wake me up when september ends

Here comes the rain again.

Falling from the stars.

Drenched in my pain again.

Becoming who we areas my memory rests.

But never forgets what I lost.

Wake me up when september ends.

Summer has come and passed.

The innocent can never last.

Wake me up when september ends.

Like my father's come to pass.

Twenty years has gone so fast.

Wake me up when september ends.

Wake me up when september ends.Wake me up when september ends.

[ http://www.azlyrics.com/ ]

We had wonderful family time when spring began. Aaron was a summer boy. His favorite time has come and passed. Wake ME up when winter ends.

Thank you for reading.

Peace Teala

Aaron's Dad

Virtues

I knew too little about the virtues. Of my children, I would comment on whether they displayed an understanding of right from wrong. My basis was built on what I understood of right and wrong. The foundation could have been stronger.

Andre' Comte-Sponville, a professor at the Sorbonne, wrote in 1996, A Small Treatise On The Great Virtues. I wish I would have read this book nine years ago. I'm grateful to be reading it today. To assist me with words I wish I knew, I carry Aaron's Franklin, battery operated dictionary. In a few key presses, I have the definition of words like veracity (truthfullness), dogmatic(unwarranted stubornness of opinion), sagacity (shrewd),virtue (excellence) and pusillanimity (cowardice).

To quote from the author "For the last 2,500 years, if not more, the greatest minds have thought about the virtues..." Because I have the freedom to choose and I'm in a deeply contemplative state, I choose to improve my knowledge of relevant concepts. In this process I have seen some of what was not visible to me during Aaron's life. Here's an example:

Comte-Sponville begins his book with an exposition of Politeness as the first virtue. How often have I been fooled by believing polite people are good people? Maybe every day. Is there a difference between seeming to be polite (Eddie Haskel) and actually being so (Wally Cleaver)? What's more, politeness taken to an extreme the author shows, is disturbing in its dishonest, insincerity.

Politeness is almost nothing in improper usage and I thought it was always everything. Aaron was not always polite. Neither am I, but it frustrated me when he was sincere about not wanting to be polite when he preferred to be honest. I likely felt a child's failure to show politeness was a negative reflection on me as a parent. Sincerity is good. Concern about what people think about me due to actions of another human being is a waste of energy.

Good manners, Comte-Sponville writes, preced and prepare the way for good deeds, thus politeness is the first of the virtues in that it is a building block.

Courage, like politeness, is shared by men of good and evil. The author uses Nazis repeatedly to show the difference between moral and immoral excellence. For example, an victim of atrocities may face harsh conditions and torture with courage as a virture and the SS soldier may excell at inflicting pain and suffering on the victims with immoral courage.

I like this sentence from the book "Where courage is always respected..., it is only really morally estimable when at least partially in the service of others and more or less free of immediate self-interest."

I would have taken Aaron to task had I known he was looking after a convicted drug dealer. In the last weeks of his life, Aaron was asked by more than one person "Why are you giving this guy any time?" Aaron's answers had to do with being there for a friend who was trying to do right. Being associated with a convicted dealer carried dangers and at least disparges on ones own character. Aaron was well aware, and yet he was willing to be the one who provided the ride to a mandadory drug test 40 minutes away and to an interview for an elusive job.

It was my wish for my son to be courageous. When I learned he was associating with this young man, I thought he was being unwise and reckless. I didn't understand courage as a virtue. I was dogmatic. Aaron's actions were in the service of others, free of immediate self-interest; courage deserving of respect from a father.

To make my son out to be more in death than he was in life is unnecessary and dishonarable to his memory. Learning more about life helps me to understand Aaron. I pray that I use what I have learned to be a better father to Patrick. I owe that to my sons.

Peace and Veracity to You,

Tom