Wish You Could Have Been There (for Dad)

“Mark Ewing, THREE MINUTES!”  This was the last warning.  I had to be ready.  This is it!  If I don’t make it through this one, I’m going home with nothing.  I have to make this one really count.  I ran my entire set through my head.  I don’t know why, because I’ve been rehearsing it all day, and I’ve done this particular bit for the entire last year of my comedy tour.  It’s only 90 seconds…  Agghh…  I gotta remember to watch that countdown clock.  I can be disqualified if I go over my time…  Holy cow, am I nervous!

I peer around the corner, and for the first time I can see the theater.  I can see a few of the audience members, but there’s not enough space for me to see the judges.  Maybe that’s a good thing.  I’d be even nervouser…  Is that even a word?  Can you be more than nervous?  Ok… who cares.  Gotta stop thinking about it.

“Mr Ewing, you’re up.”

“D’oh!”

“Finally jumped into the deep end like daytime in the evening,
it got dark out there so fast, it took everything I had
all the fears that I’ve been facing, the mistakes I kept on making,
I changed them all that day, I chased them all away.
I guess you saw this coming long before I did,
You never wondered if I could, you only wondered when…”

I breezed through it.  I actually amazed myself.  I was never buzzed by the judges, nor was I booed by the audience.  This is an amazing feat since comedians typically go through this sort of competition at such a disadvantage.  But, to impress such great people, one who actually inspired me to go into the business in the first place.  Well, actually there was two.  One was sitting in the judge’s chair, and one could not make it to the show.  He couldn’t make it because he passed away three years ago… my Pop.

“Wish you could have been there to see me,
you always believed me, even when I couldn’t believe myself…
Wish you could have been there to see this,
the moment that I witnessed
every single word you said come true.
Wish you could have been there…”

I couldn’t focus on the fact that on such a special day for me, there was not a single person I knew sitting in the audience on my behalf.  There were friends back home who were there in spirit, but I was unable to bring my family to the show because, most of them are all dead.  In five years, I have lost two Uncles, a Grandmother, both parents, and nearly lost a nephew…  Five years.  That’s a lot.

Dad was very funny.  Loved to make people laugh.  He only knew a few, but he was spot on with a handful of impressions.  I’m certain that’s where I got my first love of entertaining others.  Nothing pleased him more than taking someone’s mind away from their worries, even if for even only five minutes.  Even though he was not a stage comedian, I am following in his footsteps… something I really tried to avoid as a child and teen.  I thought he was embarrassing.  It took me stepping into the real world too soon and growing up far too fast to know that he was actually onto something.

“You can’t count on second chances; Lord knows I’ve had a few…
You gave me all the answers; it was up to me to choose.”

Dad never got to see me perform.  I started comedy in 2005, and began touring in 2006.  Dad moved to Texas just months before I performed for my hometown.  About 150 people were in attendance… minus Dad.  He heard a few people tell him about the show, but it was not the same as being there.  I was never able to do a show for him in Texas, although I really wanted to before he died.  He never knew this, but my intention during my show in his town would be to bring him on stage with me and let him do his impressions for a real comedy audience in a real comedy club.  Having a room full of strangers cheer him on would have been a total highlight of his life.  Dang you, pneumonia!

“It took so long for me to realize what you already knew…”

He was my inspiration and driving force behind this whole chaotic thing I now do for a living.  Every time I step on stage, I think of him.  Now, I’m not sure how heaven works… but I believe he is there with people we can only read about here on Earth.  I’d like to believe that every once in a while when I do something positive in this life that the Lord gives him permission to look and see it.  Not sure why I wish this… but I do.

He knew I could pull this off… he always knew I had it in me.  Even though he never encouraged me to go into comedy directly, he simply wanted me to be successful.  In 2012, I really don’t know what success is anymore.  But, I feel that in his eyes, he’d feel that I have achieved something very similar.

Each day, I have to face this world alone.  It’s a long hard road.  Never did I think I’d bury so many family members at such a young age.  But I am playing the cards I’ve been dealt.  When I look at the deck, the Queen of hearts has tears in her eyes, and I am the Joker…  I’m one of the two cards stuffed back in the box, while the other 52 get to play.  But, this is who I am.  I am the minority.  But, I accept it, because I know it’s just the nature of the beast.   It’s what happens when you’re different.  I may indeed be the last to be chosen, but sometimes that’s who God uses to amaze everyone.  Let’s hope I’m in God’s deck.

“Wish You Could Have Been There” by The Oak Ridge Boys contributed to the composition of this post.

♫♪ Nothing to Prove ♫♪

I went and picked up the bus today.  I have a small bus that I travel in when I have shows that don’t require airline flight.  We were driving back from Raleigh back in November, and the heater stopped working on the trip back.  It made for a very cold night headed home.  So, I had the bus in the shop being repaired.  Now, the heat will run you out!

The bus is a former “limo bus” from a limousine company that was quitting business because of the bad economy.  I had performed a corporate show for the company last year, and I was actually picked up from the airport in the same bus that I purchased from them at a discount price.  It’s a very nice bus.   It has a tv, blu-ray player, hardwood flooring, a beverage bar, and leather seats.  It’s quite comfy for the long trips.

From the outside, this bus looks like a church bus or a shuttle bus from the airport.  It’s black and very plain.  My name is not on the outside of the bus, nor will it ever be.  If the interior of the bus was just as plain as the exterior, I would have been fine just as long as it had a place for me to sleep.  I didn’t buy a limo bus because I needed prestige… I bought it because it was available, and I would have been a fool to pass up the offered price.

I’ve been working on my book “A Troubled Soul” for a little while now, but I’ve gotten back to steady writing here most recently.  The book, when complete will be my autobiography.  It will tell stories of my childhood, my teen years, and my life now as a young adult.  I will discuss some of the fun times, and some of the bad times of my life, and what I had to do in order to become to man that Christ wanted me to be.

I’ve thought about my earthly father a lot as I have been writing.  He was a very simple man.  It didn’t take a lot to make him happy, yet he still had a slight taste for a few of the finer things life had to offer.  One of the things I inherited from him were some of the high standards that he had about certain things.  For example, on our way to church on Sundays, we would always stop by the same gas station and do three things… fill the family car up with gas, buy drinks and a package of oatmeal cookies, and then drive the car through the car wash.  Dad had bought a brand new Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, and he was not about to drive to church in a dusty car.

Dad cared about the things he had.  He was not really worried about what people thought about our car.  If he was, he would have bought a Lincoln or a Caddi… not an Oldsmobile.  He simply felt like the car should look nice on Sunday.

♫♪ “You taught me how to ride a bike… Tie my shoes and fly a kite
How to swim and how to fish… To see a star and make a wish
Said it’s ok to make mistakes… Just don’t get stuck in yesterday
Forgive, forget and move ahead… ‘Cause life is what you make of it.
Now you’re gone and all I have are memories I hold dear
But if I’m quiet I hear your voice still ringin’ in my ears

Sayin’ live with no excuses… Love with no regrets
Laugh a lot and leave this life with nothing left unsaid
Make this world a better place… Don’t be afraid to cry
When it’s finally time to say goodbye…
There’s nothin’ to prove, nothin’ to lose, nothin’ to hide” ♫♪

So much about who I am today is a reflection of my dad.  I too am a very simple person.  I live in the 80’s farm house that my dad built and raised our family in.  My primary vehicle is one of my dad’s old trucks.  Even the tractor I use to mow the back pasture was one of his old tractors.  I didn’t exactly follow his footsteps into law enforcement, but I did use his example of bringing laughter to others as my drive to be a comedic entertainer.  But one thing I certainly learned from him was how to live a life focused on Christ.

♫♪ “You said life cannot be measured by the place you live, the car you drive
The thing that counts the day you die is who you are and what’s inside
So tell the truth, don’t ever lie.  Integrity at any price
Your words, your bond, you’re highest prize.
So guard it closely with your life
So many things I learned from you ‘Bout life and love and play
But I learned more by how you lived than what I heard you say” ♫♪

Dad’s gone, and I have to live each day now all by myself.  Dad wasn’t perfect, but it’s times like today that I really miss him.  I’d love to show him how I have kept the house and the barn up in great shape… I’ve kept the oil changed in the truck and tractor.  I’ve got a big bus to ride in, and I get to make people laugh just like he liked to do.  (He’d shake his head about the bus, but he’d be so proud of my comedy career.)

I’d love to show him that I serve others before I serve myself.  If I could only tell him how I just a few days ago helped someone without a tire jack change a flat… just because.  I helped assemble a bunch of Christmas bikes for less fortunate children.

I’d love for him to know that I pray every morning and night that today and tomorrow, I will be a better man than I was yesterday.  I have found a great church where I am happy, and the Pastor talks about God, and not the President or others in the church.  I read my bible.  I finally have decent best friends who love Jesus.

I’d love to show him all of that… but it doesn’t matter.  None of that matters to anyone but me and Jesus.  I don’t have to prove myself to my dad, my friends, or anyone else for that matter.  All I have to do is live the example of Jesus Christ, and my life will line up with His will.

The things I have on Earth will not matter when my body is lowered in the ground and topped with a granite slab.  The words the minister says at the funeral, or in 2000’s a “Celebration of Life” service will talk about the line between my birth date and death date.  Those will be the words that echo who I was.  But the legacy I pass on from my fathers… heavenly and earthly will show that I was a simple man who had nothing to prove.

♫♪ “I only wanna live my life half as well as you
To leave behind what I receive is all I wanna do 

So I live with no excuses… and I love with no regrets
I Laugh a lot and I leave this life with nothing left unsaid
Make this world a better place… Don’t be afraid to cry
When it’s finally time to say goodbye…
There’s nothin’ to prove, nothin’ to lose, nothin’ to hide” ♫♪

♫♪  “Nothing to Prove” by Phillips, Craig & Dean contributed to the composition of this blog.

♫♪ My Chains Are Gone ♫♪

He was 62. He was supposed to travel to Alabama to attend the family reunion. Instead, he had to stay home… doctors orders. A sudden illness prompted a trip to the doctor, and the diagnosis was… cancer. He’d already suffered three heart attacks in his 50’s, and now cancer.

My father began treatment. He shaved what little hair he had to begin with so that he wouldn’t lose it from the chemotherapy and radiation treatments he would have to endure to rid himself of this disease. After many months of therapy and treatments, he received news that he was cancer free from this treatable bone marrow cancer.

Shortly after getting this exciting news, dad began to grow ill. He checked himself into a Texas hospital, where he was diagnosed with pneumonia… in both lungs. Now, most people can fight off pneumonia, but it’s a bit harder when your immune system is already weakened because of cancer treatments. His progress was up and down, with some good days, and some bad days. Then came the period where there were no more good days. Finally, I got the call.

“Your father’s not doing well today. You need to come to Texas… right now.” I rushed to TX to see my father laying in a hospital bed, nearly twice his size. The oxygen that had been keeping him alive for over two weeks had bloated his body. He had also developed blood clots in both legs. He was in horrible pain. The nurses literally had to tie his arms and hands to the hospital bed because he kept trying to snatch out the trake in his throat that was keeping him alive.

He was totally miserable. He was a great man. He had donated over 6 gallons of blood to the American Red Cross from his 18th birthday until now. He also served in the Armed Forces, and he served his state proudly for over 15 years as a State Trooper. To lay in this bed and be tied down was absolutely cruel punishment for such a great man. I knew why I was there, and I was not happy about it. But the doctors had already briefed my sister and I before our arrival. There was nothing else that could be done. To leave him in the this condition with all of these tubes and contraptions connected to him was simply not the right thing to do.

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Two signatures later, I took my father’s hand as they disconnected his life support. They also disconnected the strings that tied his hands to the bed. I will never forget, almost immediately, my father lifted both of his hands in the air… and as my family shed tears of sadness, I immediately began to think of this song…

“My chains are gone, I’ve been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me.
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, amazing grace.”

His chains were finally gone, and he lifted his hands and welcomed the Lord to come down and take him home. My father knew Jesus, and he made sure his family knew Jesus too. He made sure I was in church as a child, and he taught me the ways of the Lord and the right path to take. Today, I truly believe he is with Jesus.

Tonight, my cousin’s step-father passed away. He had a rare form of Alzheimer’s Disease that advanced rapidly. His family and friends were by his side when he parted ways with the earth, but the devastation remains. A father, grandfather, husband, and friend to many… is gone. If his heart was right, he’s with his maker as I write this blog.

“Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am.” John 14:1-3 NLT

We’re not promised tomorrow. It can end in the blink of an eye. But let me tell you what, if you’re here right now, and your heart is right with Jesus, you have absolutely nothing to fear. He has gone to prepare a place where there is no Alzheimer’s Disease, and there is no heart attacks, and there’s no cancer… there’s no death! In heaven, there will only be happiness and rejoicing. That’s the promise He’s given us. In addition to the great promise, your chains of sin will be gone.

I know this post is quite different from most that I compose, but I really felt the urgency to share this tonight. Make Jesus your Lord, your life, and your priority. He has a promise for you, and it’s a great one!

“Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)” by Chris Tomlin contributed to the composition of this post.