Eric Benner

Knowing when to walk away is WISDOM.
Being able to is COURAGE.
Walking away with your head held high is DIGNITY.
                                                     -Anonymous

I broke up with a friendship last night. Without fanfair, drama or even a confontation or conversation.  I broke up by simply making a decision and for the first time, maybe in my entire life, that was enough.  

It sure took me long enough.  But, as you know, I don't quit easily.  I am certainly not perfect and I have made mistakes too numerous to count in this life, but one of my strengths, or my commitments, is that I fix things, all things, even when I shouldn't.  Even, when I can't.  I forge ahead and do everything in my power to try.  Well, I am done trying to fix something that I have no control over, that isn't really healthy or beneficial to me, and that, ultimately, was likely broken beyond repair years ago. 

I have a hard time accpeting "beyond repair" - you and I had many conversations about it, actually, but then you were talking about the "what if's" of your illness.  I so naively thought (and sometimes, still think) that everything is repairable.  That if you look hard enough or dedicate yourself enough, there is always a solution and that everything is fixable.  But, what I often forget, or simply cannot accept, is that not everyone has it in them to do the work, to authetically be vulnerable, and/or the desire to make things the way they say they want them.  There is no fault in that statement, just a realization, that truth means different thing to different people. That people, even myself, may not be capable of fixing what is broken, especially without everyone on the same page.

So, I am finally in a place where I am attempting to live what I preach to our kids: "people only treat you in ways that you allow".  Well, I am done allowing myself to be treated in a way that doesn't feel good.  I am no longer willing to watch people that I love and care about be treated inappropriately because of their friendship with me.  I am simply at a place where I am choosig to be in relationship with people who actively choose to be in relationship with me in an open, honest and genuine way.  Whatever we do, whomever we do it with, is easy and enjoyable and, probably most important for me right now, public.  I don't hide what I do, whom I do it with, or attempt to keep it covered.  I just can't....I did it once, with you, and it almost destroyed me. I made choices that ultimately broke me, choices I regret, choices that didn't help either of us, and, in the end, your illness still took you away.

I get that this is another type of choice. I get that even though making this choice is somewhat freeing, it is not without pain or loss or sadness.  It is just necessary.  So, I set my mind, made a decision that is fucking hard, that hurts, that I will mourn, but that is so completely right for me right now that I can do so knowing my heart and my head will ultimately meet in the middle and agree on this course, at some point.  I will do everything in my power to do so with love in my heart, because no matter how much I wish I could let this love go, I will always have love for this person, what she meant to me, who "we" were (or maybe, more realistically, who I THOUGHT she was).  I love our past, our memories, our families;  I just cannot love the differences in our definition of friendship or authenticity or honesty.  

So, I broke up with someone I love last night.  I imagined us talking and what I would say IF she were the person I wanted her to be, the person I believed her to be so long ago.  And then I walked away.  

Now, I just have to keep making choices that combine with Wisdom, Courage and Dignity that brought me to this decision.  I write this to you for several reasons...because I want our kids to know that I work every day to be better, that sometimes it hurts to do what is best for you and people you love, because you called this one so long ago and I couldn't see it then, because you know my successes and my failures, but most importantly because I hope this makes you proud.  

 

"Life isn't Fair"....Ok, we all know this.  That said, we want it to be, sort of; when it benefits us - of course.  However, I (like most other parents I know) want our children's life to be easier than ours, better than ours, more "perfect" than ours.  UNLIKE most people I know, I agonize over it.  Sometimes, that is just who I am, but more often (way more often) I just think that they already lived through the unimaginable pain of your death, so I think that they are "entitled" to an easier go of it.  Which, in truth, is really kind of crap.  The honestly of this life is that many more kids have gone through worse, though most don't have to.  Either way, while all the logic speaks to me, my heart years for the "unfairness" that would allow for all their wishes to become reality.  Sorry, it's my truth, and a lot of it is because they don't have you, so I think they deserve more.  

Obviously, there are reasons this is on my heart this week, but the reasons don't really matter.  This is MY struggle, not theirs.  They don't analyze it like I do (thank God) or I don't know if they do, but I doubt it.  They handle their disappointments way better than I do.  Maybe it would be this way anyway, but I don't think so.  So, I will own it, because I have to.  I can't control their journey or change their destiny, no matter how much I wish it.  That is between them and fate or God...I don't really know.  I still struggle with my faith, though I believe it is there....somewhere.

I guess I am writing to you to ask a favor or two.  One, help me not to blame you when their desires fall short of their reality.  I KNOW it's not your fault.  I know it is the reality of living.  But, darn it, if I don't sometimes.  Two, if you are looking over our kids right now, and you can make one of their journeys easier over the next couple days, I would really appreciate it.  Unfair, I know, but honest none the less.

As always, with love,

W 

Two days ago, the craziest thing happened, Madison Delaney Benner turned 18!  She was surrounded by friends and family and love.  She was celebrated.  She was (and is) smiling, happy, beautiful, smart, complicated, challenging, intelligent, cerebral.  She is everything you could wish for in a confident young woman.  When the night concluded and she was encased in love, her heart happy.  That is truly all I want for her (and KK and Drew) every day of their life.  I can honestly thank you for that.

I believe it is all you wanted for them, too, in the end.  It's pretty incredible that your illness, and death, changed the parameters that define "success";  before, when all was "normal", success meant so many things.  Mainly, I think it was defined by accumulation....of wealth, of status, of sport or academic progress, of posessions.  Ironically, when you lost the ability to feel love, or positive emotions, success was defined so very differently.  Clarity and purpose may have been one of the gifts out of the tragedy, but happiness, true joy, was something we took for granted.  Maybe, it was even something we lost sight of, as we lived our normal, everyday life.  But now, while I definitely celebrate personal achievements, success is broken down into much more simple terms.  All I want is for our children to walk their paths pursuing goals that ultimately bring them peace and happiness, regardless of the hills and valleys they face along the way.
 
I digressed, as I all too often do, when writing to you.  This post was about Madi's birthday.  By all legal definitions, she is now an adult.  To celebrate her, on the day of her birth, brought back volumes of memories....snap shots of her life.  And for so many years, you were in every frame.  To see her, was to see all of us.  But, as quickly as you can snap a picture, you were gone.  Her moments, both those few captured in photos, and those thousands just spent living, no longer contain you.  Your memory, always, but your presence...gone.  Ironically, your words, the ones we all so often quote and those we base our lives upon, are now permanently a part of her.  Yep, another daughter, tattooed with your motto.  (And just a head's up....Drew is already planning his ink "tribute".)  I told Michael that it's almost a little karma biting your butt....you hated tattoos (you did not understand them), and yet, all of your children will have them inked into their skin.  Anyways, once again, though you weren't physically here, you also were never far away.  Our memories, bittersweet in nature, march along side us, in every frame of this life.  

I think we do a pretty good job of pursuing our individual definitions of "happiness" most days.  But the truth is, we all will forever live parrallel lives that vascilate between the present and the past.  No matter how well we are doing, how much "success" we achieve, how content we are, your loss will forever be there alongside us until the end of time.  To quote another "Ericism"..."It is what it is", and we all do our best to accept the duality of the situation.  We will always love the life we once had with you, we will mourn the time of your illness, allow ourselves anger, sadness, confusion over your death AND we will continue to learn how to value, appreciate and LOVE the life we have without you.

Always, 

Wen
 

Today, July 6th, marks 19 years since we gathered our family and friends and joined our lives before God and everyone, almost 2 years after we met.  Throughout the 15 years we were married, we created such a beautiful family.  We had the normal ups and downs, but we were more solid than most relationships I had ever known.  And then, you got sick, I got sick, by default, and then, you were gone....ironically on the 6th, again.  This day, one that once provided cause for celebration, also marks the absolutely worst day of my life.  I doubt that you "chose" that, but either way, it sucks.  The birth of our marriage.  The death of our marriage.  Same day.  Not the same date, but regardless, the 6th...it is always a day, every damn month, that I think of the day you took your own life and altered ours forever.  

I read a quote yesterday, from another woman who suffered an unimaginable loss when her perfectly healthy 1 year old son died six years ago, and it was the MOST accurae quote I have read since you passed, so I will close with it here.  

With grief, and it's unpredictability, "you simply learn to live a parallel life".  Could not be a perfect description of how we live every day.    Thank you Jodi Martino for putting words to paper that I will use for the rest of my life.  

So many times over the last week I have almost written on this page, usually at a heightened emotional state in which tears were my consistent companion.  I honestly cannot believe the roller coaster this week has been for such an odd range of reasons, all of which are due to present circumstances, but most of which caused me to feel anger, resentment and/or sadness with regards to you.  That may seem crazy, but it is my reality, and when it comes to things with our children, especially when those "things" echo hints of "you", man, do I want to lash out.  Problem is that you are not here for me to be angry at, and your ghost, in the eyes of our children and many others, is that of a hero, so that double-edged sword sometimes sucks ass.  You, or the memory of you, gets all the glory.  I get the reality.  You see, E, you were a rockstar...dad, husband, coach, friend, son, businessman.  And then, you got sick.  But to most, you still remained the image of what you were.  To me, well, you were the man I loved, with a disease I hated, and a personality that had such duality that it was hard to be present in your presence.  Lately, I find that anger and sadness go hand in hand with regards to you and I hate that. But I cannot control it, so I simply feel it.  All of it.  

I guess this needs some explanation.  This summer (the summer before Madi leaves for college) takes me back to that summer (2011, when Kait left and you were so damn sick) and there is so much pain associated with that time that I cannot help but bring it in to today.  I am left with memories and promises and hurt that are as real today as they were back then and because this comparison was so unexpexted (welcome to the life of non-scripted grief), I have a lot of blame that I place on you.  SUPER UNFAIR, but SUPER HONEST.  When Madi gets trapped inside her head and struggles to communicate or believes she can solve everything on her own and shuts us all out, it takes everything in my being not to scream at her for acting like you.  While I know in my head that she isn't you, in fact, she is an amazing balance of you and me and her friends and famility and faith and surroundings and even her newer extended family, I immediately go to a place of fear and an unwaivering need to fix.  You thought I was the only thing that could fix you, despite every doctor's advice and instruction that I couldn't.  I tried for so long to be the "solution" that now it's really all I know how to do, despite it not being the healthiest of options. I am so filled with rage at times because I need to fix everything, likely some things/situations/relationships that probably should be left broken.  It is a burden that I carry, illogical, but ever present and I resent the hell out of you for it.  Again, super unfair, but super real.  

Realistically, I am sure most parents see the best and the worst of themselves and each other in their kids.  It is normal.  But your best traits were also some of your worst and the blurred line of which is which causes confusion, fear and frustration.  Many of the things I admired about you once upon a time are traits I now question; what I once viewed as strength, now often comes across as a form of weakness.  Your intelligence, your stubborness, your perserverance, your determination....do you see how they can become convoluted?  Without these, you wouldn't be you, but without them you also might have seen a path to get better.  Probable...maybe not, but, possible...maybe.  So, how do I make sense of those traits in our kids? In myself? In my relationships?  I don't honestly know, but I do my best every day to try and keep them separate.  Right now....with this time of impending transition and constant flux...I am not doing such a great job with the comparmentalizing.  

To be fair, I know this is not all on you;  you are just making a somewhat justifiable scapegoat right now.  Thankfully, Kait and Drew and Greg are helping keep me in check and seem to understand my heart right now, best they can.  Madi, well she is hearing me, understanding my thoughts, opinions and experiences, even when she may not necessarily know if she agrees.  My friends...that is a little ticky currently, as many of them all have their own "stuff" right now.  But dang, this time is hard. Really fricking hard. I want to hold on so tight right now and freeze this time and space, so my time with Moo doesn't change, knowing full-well it will in the blink of an eye.  I want to keep Moo in this safety bubble of "home", all the while truly encouraging her to spread her wings, take flight, dip, hover and soar.  And, I really hope you are somewhere in those clouds, giving her (and all of us) some spiritual support.  

I know this letter-of-sorts likely doesn't make sense, but it is just plain real, and that is all I know how to be anymore.  Which is why I am mad and sad and blaming and understanding and genuine and authentic and finally, writing, because that is also my reality, my other therapy of sorts.  So, in closing, forgive my anger, my blame, my sadness....they are feelings that exist in my heart and not necessarily reality, but they are MY reality, and I need to walk through them.  And to be this angry, there must also be love, so remember that, if you can, because it will always be the basis of where we started, what we grew and what you left this earth with in your heart.  In closing, I am posting a picture of things that I hope our children experience while on their life's journey and one I truly pray you have found in heaven.  Thanks for letting me vent....I really needed it.  

Always.  Wen