Jack Frost Day

May 4, 2016.Reading time 5 minutes.

I wanted to wish everyone a Happy Jack Frost Day. You likely assume this observance has something to do with the weather or fictional character. It does not. This day marks the sixth anniversary of the death of a silver-haired man I was honored to know, work for, love, and respect. If you are very lucky, you stumble upon a handful of people in your life who seep into your very soul. For me, that was Jack Frost and yes, he heard every name joke you can imagine.

When I first started with my company, Jack was leaving the Southeast to run our European division. Our paths only crossed for a couple of days and I honestly didn’t think he liked me very much. So, years later when it was announced that he was coming back to Atlanta, I was a little nervous. He had quite a reputation as a serious, no-nonsense professional and I was kind of the office screw-up.

The reputation that preceded him was way off (as those things often tend to be) or maybe his wife and children mellowed him… who knows. The Jack Frost that became my boss was one of the kindest gentlemen I have ever known and quickly became my friend and mentor. I could write about him for many pages, but I’d like to share just a few things he taught me:

Family comes first – Jack found his beautiful wife, Juli a little later in his life. They were separated by years but together in everything that mattered. They had four children, but sadly one died very young. You didn’t have to know Jack long to know that his world revolved around those kids. When he would come to the office in the morning, he would plop down beside my desk to tell me stories about them. Sometimes it got to the point where I had to shoo my boss away so I could get some work done.

Listen more than you talk – Jack was a master conversationalist who always asked questions and then closed his mouth, showing genuine interest in the answers.

There is always room for kindness – a tender spirit, he loved others well and treated everyone with respect.

Lead with a smile – Jack’s smile and good humor were legendary to the point where he came to us with the nickname, “Champagne Jack.”

The truth is crucial – In all my years with him, I never saw Jack resort to anything even borderline deceptive and he always confronted problems head-on with integrity.

Faithful isn’t just for dogs – Jack didn’t just live his faith at church on Sunday, he carried it with him everywhere he went, seven days a week.

Fight to win – When cancer invaded his body for the second time, he fought with everything he had to the very end. I don’t think he ever imagined anything other than victory and healing. In fact, he often came to work when he shouldn’t have and never let on just how bad his health had gotten. I vividly remember the day Juli called me and said he had been transferred to hospice. I felt such shock because he had emailed me not an hour before asking for sales projections.

When I visited him later, his body weak and failing, he hugged me and asked me about my girls. That was Jack. He listened while I told him whatever details I could think of as he drifted off to sleep. In tears, I kissed him on the forehead and left him there where he passed into eternity the following day.

I miss you, Jack Frost. I’m a better man because of you. Thank you for being my friend and investing in me.

Happy Jack Frost Day. If you think of it today, raise a glass for Champagne Jack, a wonderful gentleman I once knew.

When Free is Too High a Price

April 27, 2016.Reading time 6 minutes.

Everyone loves a bargain. People want to feel like they got a good deal – like they got one over on the establishment. I’m no different. I scour the endcaps where merchandise is slapped with discount stickers, hoping there is something I might possibly need so I can cry, “Look how much I saved!” It doesn’t matter that it might be a mongo bag of red licorice (which no one in my house likes) or a fish basket for our grill that is hardly used.

In search of savings I have purchased ladies pants (for me), a DVD burner that is too old for my computer to recognize, and several hats I’ve never worn. I regularly peruse the Goodwill store and seriously considered a $10 suit I once found there. Too often, a good buy isn’t a good buy.

I discovered this truth on a recent trip to our local grocery store where they boast weekly BUY 1 GET 1 deals. I love those. Being a large family we stock up when our favorites are buy one get one free. So what do you see when you see this? Look closely…

A good deal?

The fact that cereal is way too expensive?

That they are almost out of stock?

You know what I see? I see Kylie. I see her because that was her breakfast of choice since before she could talk. In fact, that was her favorite snack and often her favorite lunch and dinner. I look at that box and I see her with perfect clarity in her high chair learning to use a spoon. I remember her as a toddler sitting on the kitchen floor at the entrance to the den where she could eat breakfast and still see the TV. I feel her in my lap holding a yellow cup while shoveling fistfuls of oat squares into her mouth and I so desperately yearn to hold her again… right there in the grocery store aisle.

Before I realized it I had put six boxes in my cart because I spent ten years trained to pounce when they were buy one get one free. You know what’s worse than realizing you’ve put six boxes of oat squares you don’t need into your cart? Having to put each and every (insert handy expletive here) one of them back on the shelf.

Uggg. Slump shoulders. Wipe tears. Leave store.

This grieving thing isn’t getting much easier – it is just getting different. And death is so close to me now that I often feel like its angel. I’ve been to too many funerals for children of late. I saw a man I’ve come to love and respect eulogize his son – both beautiful and heartbreaking. I talk to him often and relive those first weeks after Kylie died as I see him walk in the same stupor. Last week I watched two friends celebrate their little girls’ birthdays on the same day. Wonderful celebrations of life – only one sweet girl is fighting cancer here while the other celebrated in heaven.

There is a thin line between this earthly party and the festivities that await us.

I wonder if they even celebrate birthdays in heaven. If so, is the party held on the earthly day or does it morph into the day you cross over that thin line to heavenly rest? In paradise, is there a need to memorialize one day over another or is every day ten thousand times better than the best birthday party here? Is the cake this good?

I wonder. And I ache to know because a part of me is now there.

But it isn’t my time yet. That will have to wait. The little square-eater gave me a job to do and I’m bound to do it. But understand that though I am healthy and active, I am just broken enough that for the rest of my life, something silly like a box at the grocery store might reduce me to tears.

I’m not alone. You or someone you know may be grieving loss. We might look whole on the outside, but the strangest things can turn us to milk-soaked bowls of mushy cereal on the inside. Don’t throw us down the drain quite yet – there still may be some use for us. Just give us room to mourn and please realize that our grief isn’t a switch we can turn on and off at will. Sometimes it gets flipped by the most trivial of things – like a buy 1 get 1 deal on cereal.

Oh, and if you’re headed to the grocery store can you grab me some Cap’n Crunch? Not everyone likes the healthy stuff…