My Angels

An angel is a supernatural being found in many religions. In Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and Zoroastrianism, angels, as attendants or guardians to man, typically act as messengers from God. My daughter was born 5 weeks premature. There was no official reason for my daughter coming early, but on the night she was born the nurse told us that full moons often are to blame, and opened the window shade to the biggest full moon my wife and I had ever seen. I cried that night and asked God why he would do such a thing to such a small and helpless being and to please help her survive.

My daughter's lungs were just a little underdeveloped so she required assistance from a CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) breather and some steroids to help the lungs finish developing. She spent over two weeks in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit which at the time seemed like an eternity. My wife and I were there everyday and for most of every night while my daughter learned how to eat and regulate her body temperature. We learned more in that time about prematurity and how a N.I.C.U.operates than we had ever known or ever would want to know but when it is your child in one of those incubator boxes you learn quickly. When we finally brought her home it was one of the greatest moments in my life.

Once you have a pre-term baby you are watched more closely than before and two years later my wife was being monitored closely indeed with our second child. We saw every moment of development on a black and white monitor thanks to the wonder of the sonogram. It was at one of these visits that our lives changed forever.

My wife and I always thought sonographers have a great job. They get to be a part of some of the greatest moments of a couples lives. They always have such a great bedside manner and we thoroughly enjoyed the visits for sonograms. It was during the fetal anatomy exam that we learned that there was another side to their jobs.

I will never forget the sonographers face as his pleasant demeanor changed to something more serious as he checked and rechecked what he was looking at. He said he was just having some trouble getting a good picture and left the room without telling us anything and when he returned he said we would need to go to the hospital for further examination and handed my wife the telephone to talk to a doctor. He asked her why we had not done the AFP test (an early genetic screen)to which we said that we chose not to do any tests because we would not do anything (i.e. terminate) if we found out something was wrong. Her face turned white and tears came rolling down her cheeks and she looked up to me and said "there's something wrong with the babies heart", barely able to talk.

We went to the hospital, where they performed a more detailed sonogram that proved our baby had a heart defect called Atrioventricular Septal Defect which basically meant that instead of four heart chambers our child had just one big one. This prompted a amniocentesis test that showed that our child had Down Syndrome also. This result came just before Thanksgiving that year and along with the genetic results of the amniocentesis we were given the sex of the child, a boy. It almost broke me to find out that my long hoped for son would have such a hard life. Growing up with three younger sisters and no brothers I spent most of my young life proclaiming that I would only have sons because I had my fill of being surrounded by girls. After the birth of my daughter I realized how a baby girl can snatch the heart of a father but I still longed for my boy. Here he was finally, but he was dealt a hard hand to play with for life, but I didn't care he was my son.

The mixed emotions of our news was hard at first but we resolutely moved forward and started preparing for the difficult journey ahead of us. We joined the National Down Syndrome Society and the Connecticut Down Syndrome Congress and read everything we could find on the Internet about heart defects and Down Syndrome. We wanted to know everything about we were about to go through because it was all we could do. We knew he was going to have to go through some major surgeries before he was even able to be brought home but we never lost hope for our son.

It was during this time, while on the computer one night researching my sons problems, that Freemasonry came into my focus. I had the TV on the History Channel as usual in the back ground and during a show on the Founding Fathers of the United States I heard the narrator say that so many of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were Freemasons. For some reason this statement got my attention. I had read things that mentioned them and had heard about them but did not know what it is they were about. Being at my computer already I Googled "Freemasons" and the rest is history that I have written about in more detail here before.

Soon afterward my wife went into labor 10 weeks too early, and although they tried everything to stop it, my son was born. The reason he came so early was that his stomach was not connected to his intestines a defect called Duodenal Atresia, so he did not, as babies do, swallow amniotic fluid to control the fluid level in the womb so my wife had too much, which (we believe) caused her labor. Soon after his birth the doctors discovered he also had Esophageal Atresia which meant his esophagus did not connect to his stomach. All of these problems are associated with children with Down Syndrome but usually one at a time. My son got 'em all at once.

He went into major surgery five days into his life to connect his stomach to his intestines and correct a couple of other things that he had wrong. He survived that surgery and started the long haul to get him stronger and bigger for the other surgeries that he needed to survive. My wife and I traveled 40 miles each way from our house to the hospital every day to be with our son. We wanted him to know that we were there for him.

Our previous experience with a N.I.C.U. because of our daughter proved invaluable during our ordeal with our son and we often said that if it weren't for her we would have never made it. Her short stay was a walk in the park compared to what we went through with my son, but it was our introductory class to what we were to go through.

My son went through three more major surgeries, including an open heart and some serious scares before finally succumbing to the difficulty of constantly fighting for life. He was just too tired after struggling for six months to live. He died in our arms surrounded by people who love him. We will never forget those men and women at the hospital who gave him every shot for life. He was and will always be my angel, my son.

Angels are messengers from God.

My daughter was an angel sent to my wife and I to learn about neonatal intensive care and she constantly reminds us why it is we have children. She was our guiding light during those six months and continues that duty to this day. The day after my son died she came to us and said "Jack's not sick anymore, he's in heaven" never had we heard more angelic words.

My son taught me how precious life is. It is not as easy as it seems and must be fought for at all cost, he never gave up. He guided me to things that I forgot I had in me and returned belief to my life. I am not the same man that I was before him. I think I am now closer to what I was put here in the first place for because I let things fall the way they come and trust that it is for a higher purpose. I got his message.

Thanks Jack.

P.S. We have since been blessed by another angel who's full term delivery and smiley face have helped heal the loss of our precious son.

Snickers Are Bad (Not The Candy Bar)

Two weeks ago while in the midst of memorizing the dialog from the play I was in, I dropped by the lodge on my way to a dress rehearsal. I was dropping off the ballot box for a vote that evening. It was in my possession because the very old box is in need of repair and was at another Brothers house for that purpose. At the meeting beforehand the WM had sent the Tiler out to our closet to get it and after a few minutes of furious searching outside the lodge room(our poor Tiler) the Brother who had taken it home for repair came up to me and reminded me that he had taken it. He could not make the last meeting either and dropped it off to me at work for me to drop off before lodge. GOT THAT STRAIGHT?
Anyway, I had time to drop it off and rush to my play rehearsal, so for the first time I came to lodge not intending to stay. I have to admit it was a strange feeling coming to lodge in jeans and a sweatshirt and rushing out after a brief hello. Attending lodge regularly is such a part of my life that when I don't do it it feels weird!?!
Sooo, during the cordial hellos I was reminded that our next meeting will be a step up night and a fellowcraft degree and I snickered and jokingly asked the Senior Warden if he was ready for it and had he memorized all of his lines yet. He said he would be ready and I ran out and went to my dress rehearsal.
I have been acting in a local theatre company for a year or so and after a few bit parts I was given a romantic lead role, including a beautiful duet with a leading lady. Between Lodge meetings and sickness I had missed quite a few rehearsals and had up to that point had not even rehearsed the big duet. My voice never quite recovered from the evil-death flu I had survived and the song itself was at the top of my singing range so needless to say I was very nervous about the performance. Add the fifteen minutes or so of dialogue and I can honestly say that I had not read anything esoteric or Masonic in the month leading up to the play. It wasn't until during a call the next day that my snickering at my Brother Senior Warden became ironic.
My WM who was the man who got me involved with the theatre company called me to ask if I needed help with the fellowcraft ritual. I said that other than a couple of words here and there that it was not much different than the two EA degrees that we had just done and I was getting pretty comfortable in the South. He then reiterated that it was a step up night, to which I responded that our SW told me he was ready, to which he retorted who do you think will be sitting in his chair during the degree!
During all of our talks about doing a step up night I never realized that I was going to step up into the West when the SW stepped up to the East. This sent me to my ritual book in a fury of looking up all I had to learn.
My snicker boomeranged on me.
I put off memorizing the ritual until after my play and for the past few days have been catching up with the fervor of a man possessed.
We'll see how it goes on Thursday night, I hope I don't slip into the Irish accent I used during my play!

Where's My 24 Inch Gauge

For my twenty or so readers:
When things are going great it becomes even harder to manage time. With the exponential growth of my lodge comes exponential responsibility to the few who do the most. I am proud to say we have already initiated more Brothers in the short time this year than we had done in the past two put together and we still have more waiting. This makes things extremely hard for a married man and father of three who has a hard time saying no to anything and is involved in more things than anyone my wife knows.

Between my blog, lodge, local theatre company, church, regular work and second job, I have been admittedly absent from my family way too much even when in their presence. That is why my posting has precipitously dropped as of late. It was my lovely wife who shed the light on me and I thank her for it. I had been so immersed in all of my extracurricular activities that even when I was home physically, my mind was almost always somewhere else, thinking about the future of my lodge, my next post, memorizing ritual or dialogue from my play. The problem was not in that I was doing all of these things, it was that I was doing these things alone and in my thick skull.

There are some of us who are bound by an even more ancient and important obligation than our Masonic one, you know, the obligation that allows us to wear a ring signifying our membership in the oldest organization in the world, marriage. It is a mysterious and magical union that takes a lifetime to master, and not all can. I call to my mind an image of the night I was installed in the South. The installing officer was a Most Worshipful Past Grand Master of Connecticut and his prompter was not a Mason but his lovely wife sitting on the sidelines with the ritual in her hands. It was reassuring to see even a PGM can miss a line every now and then and even more reassuring to see that his wife helps him with his ritual.

When I joined Freemasonry I had read from many different sources that the only secrets of Masonry were its grips, words, and signs and that the ritual was not a secret. It is my firm belief that that is true. As I started to be asked to perform parts of the ritual for degrees I readily went to my wife for help. I know I could go to any of the brethren for help but it is much more convenient to go to my wife and helping me memorize my ritual helps her to understand that we aren't sacrificing virgins or anything else ominous and evil at my meetings. It also keeps up a dialogue between us that is necessary for a healthy marriage and I can say without a doubt her help is more beneficial than any other method I have tried. When she corrects me I can hear her voice in my head and I wont mess up that part again. For some reason or another I had not been going to her for help. I had been engrossed in reading and writing and all of the other stuff I do. I can trace back my disastrous "G" lecture (read my Fumbling Fellowcraft Degree) directly to not having her help me with that lecture and it was my fault for not asking.

It is all behind me now, and she is currently helping me memorize my dialogue for my upcoming play and all is well on the home front. When I start to prepare for my second attempt at the notorious "G" lecture in two weeks, I am going straight to her and maybe this time wont fumble it all up.

Do you tell your wife what goes on in lodge?