The Past

This essay was written for the Makers of Sport® newsletter in May 2016. Monday Musings and Weekend Reads were the written editions of the newsletter that accompanied the podcast; the archived email is on Mailchimp. The newsletter's links and announcements are trimmed here.

These past 10 days have been very busy and very tough personally on myself and my family. A mix of emotions due to exciting events, promising events and sad events filled this past week and a half.

Mixed throughout the excitement of end-of-year pre-school programs, Kindergarten graduation, a live Q&A with Joe Bosack as well as recording podcasts with the PGA Tour's Sloane Kelley and Infinite Scale's partners (which releases in a couple of weeks); we experienced the sudden loss of our dog Missy (whom you can hear barking in the latest podcast episode) and the passing away of my grandmother to cancer (which was expected and having spent a ton of time with her during my adult years I was at complete peace with).

Negative events and positive events. This is the balance of life.

"I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past." — Thomas Jefferson

We know things will happen. Good things and bad things. Life itself is even a terminal illness as death is imminent for each of us. Oftentimes when things happen in our lives, we loop images in our heads and replay the past, thinking about what we could have done better or how we would have changed a certain scenario. Maybe we would have spent more time with our grandparents before they died. Or, we would have hesitated to write that abrasive email to a colleague. Or perhaps we wish we'd have ponied up the courage and forsake our pride by saying sorry to someone we may have hurt years ago. None of us are exempt from these thoughts.

I was very close to my dog. We owned her for 11.5 years and she was always at my side when I was home. Before my wife and I had kids and when we lived in the city (we live in a rural area now with a few acres), she'd often jump in the truck with me and ride wherever I was going—head out the window, slobbering on console. She was a good one.

The past week or so I could tell something was up. At night she was restless and seemed to keep trying to cough something up. My wife her took her the vet last Saturday and as I drove 1.5 hours away to Louisville to meet with a high-profile (5 figure) client who was in town attending the NRA Convention. I was 20 minutes from Louisville when my wife called me and told the dog seemed like she was having trouble breathing and then died literally 5 minutes later. It was quick. The vet's diagnosis of an enlarged heart, fluid in her abdomen and my own research online point to congestive heart failure—a problem not so uncommon in toy dogs (she was a miniature schnauzer).

The miniature schnauzer breed lives on average 11-14 years so I knew the day would come, but man I was I ever upset. Still am actually. I keep running scenarios over in my head about what could have been done different. What if I turned around the truck and drove back? Why couldn't have I been holding her as she died? Why didn't we just put her down? What if we took her the vet sooner? Did she suffer? But...these thoughts don't matter. She's dead. And thinking about all of these "what if" scenarios will not change a thing. She had a great life in her last few years running around our acreage, digging up moles, chasing mice, rabbits and insects and just all around getting good and muddy each day. These moments are what I must train my brain to focus on and remember. The good times.

Trust that the irony is not lost on me that I am discussing mourning a dog on a day when we are supposed to be honoring the soldiers that have paid the ultimate sacrifice fighting for the U.S.A. or a week after my grandmother passed away. But I already remember those good times with my grandmother and grandfather. This is why I'm at peace with their deaths. When something happens suddenly and unexpectedly, it throws us for a curve ball.

I am by no means claiming there is a shame in mourning as it's part of the healing process; but, we must not let the past be debilitating towards our present. Each of us have problems we must face. Some worse than others. We must find ways to deal with the past even if it means seeking professional help.

For me? I've found that writing and creating are a therapy of sorts. You must find your own way.

One thing is for certain, time will not stop for us. If we continue to dwell on the things of yesterday that we can't change, then we are wasting the present, which will surely negatively affect our future.

I hope you have a great week as you reflect on and heal from your own past and work on being more present in the present and plan for the future.

Cheers,

Adam

P.S. To those of you that have lost military family members, friends, colleagues or acquaintances as part of the ultimate sacrifice, my thoughts & prayers are with you as you honor them today. Happy Memorial Day.