Help Mike Aitken!

A very little known fact about my family. I have a cousin, who's married to a man by the name of Mike Aitken. Mike is a world renownd BMX rider. I'll say it again, "World Renownd BMX Rider". He does it for a living. He's good, really good. He lives in a big house with a wife and his son, Owen. He's doing so well for himself, the worst thing that could happen would be an accident.

It happened, with nightmarish results.

As of this post, Mike is in the hospital after suffering an accident, causing a brain stem injury. Due to his line of work, he's uninsurable and the hospital bills are expected to be in the hundreds of thousands. Please, help.

Special Thanks to: 5050BMX and Athlete Recovery Fund for setting up the fund to help his recovery, Odyssey, Fit Bike Co. and FOX Racing for setting up support shows and VIP auctions to raise money for his fund. More thanks to Rockstar, Lotek and all his friends across the world.

You can keep up-to-date on his condition by visiting http://www.mikeaitken.com.

Eulogy - Rex Henry Ballard Jr.

It requires a special person to write a eulogy. A eulogy, is something that praises someone and their life after they've died. You have to take everything that person ever was and ever did, and carefully put it down so that, when people hear it, they can all nod, smile and say, "Yeah, he sure was."

But to take all that my Dad was, would take another lifetime to read because he was so much to so many people in so many different ways. He created so many memories through all of us. We all formally knew him as Rex Henry Ballard ... Jr. and you remember him as the talented musician who always had music with him wherever he went. It was in his walk, his style and the rhythm of his whole life. One might venture to say that music was his only true love. He would pour it out for you, like some potion that would cure whatever ales you, giving it freely, with a twinkle in his eye and a smile in his heart.

Some of my most cherished memories as a child were on Sunday mornings. I never knew how early my Dad started, but I do remember waking up to guitar chords and licks from some melody I've never bothered to learn and hearing his poor attempt at singing them reminded me of why. But in those moments, when it was just him and his guitar, you could see happiness and love radiate from him. It filled the whole house. At times, it seemed like the whole universe sang with him on Sunday morning. Today, whenever I hear the original artists of those songs, I'll always remember that my Dad sang them to me first.

Even though he was a bad singer, he was a good song writer. He was a poet and a lover of life. Many of you will know him as a friend, who willingly and quickly did whatever he was capable, to help anyone who really needed it. He was a Buddhist who believed in Karma and the rippling effect the good will mankind can have on the universe. So, he did his part, whatever it was, whenever he could.

He was a mountain man, an amazing camper, a teacher and a fisherman who never caught anything because he was too busy teaching everyone else how to. In between the snags, the tangled lines and his crying children's cold feet, I always wondered why he liked it so much. Later, I realized the magic. It was those moments of quiet, and peace he had, when he was finally able to talk with the river, and the trees and the sky. He was a lover of nature and surrounded himself within it, whenever he could. But, never without his guitar.

He was a brother, an uncle, and to his four kids, a father and mentor who's lessons will be echoed throughout our lives and the lives of everyone we're in contact with, like ripples in a pond or the current in the river, it's unstoppable. He was a hard worker who would commute to different states for weeks to put food in his families stomachs, a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs.

He was a role model, a guardian, and if you've ever heard of McGurk at the Roadhouse, he was also a comedian with a split personality. His humor was ceaseless and sometimes, pretty dry. But, there was always an optimism in his attitude, in spite of the darkness people face, everyday.

Each of us has our own version of Rex. We each have our own title that we've given him. If you can, write it down and read it aloud to anyone who will listen, so that everyone can hear his story, who he was, and remember him as the person he always strived to be, of the struggles he fought to get there and the pains he endured for his, his family's and his friend's happiness's.

We're here to honor the life of our father, mentor, brother, friend, husband, companion, lover, poet, singer/songwriter, musician, comedian, painter, illustrator, guardian, artist, chef, fisherman, teacher, ... Cubs fan, the list can continue until tomorrow, but most of all, to me ... my Dad, was the Greatest man I'll ever know.

In writing his eulogy, I hope that all of you will remember something good about him and say, "Yeah, he sure was."

Harder than I thought

It's been a crazy, crazy few months, so busy. My wife and I went to Wendover and ended up winning a bunch of money, over $3,000. We were so excited. We finally had the downpayment to buy a house. Our San Diego vacation was a nice break from life, though. We got tattoos. Thank you Carlos at Ink Spot on Mission Beach, 728 Ventura Place.

But, when my Dad died, we found out he didn't have insurance to handle the funeral costs and we had to use our winnings to pay for it. It's bittersweet. Now, we have to go back to slowly saving.

Now, I'm struggling to deal with all his stuff. Everybody wants the same things and arguments are breaking out. It turns out, much of his stuff isn't his and people want it all back. This is stuff that the kids grew up with, as being part of the family's, intertwined with our childhood memories are now gone. We were prepared to devide it all up, as fairly as possible. But, now we can't and we're left with scraps of memories to hold on to. It's gotten so bad, I give up. Let them have it. I don't want my memories tainted by fights over them.

Then, finding lawyers to handle the "probate." It seems that these lawyers always want to make an appointment. They don't seem to want to answer any questions over the phone. I don't have that kind of time. They should find time for me, I'm the customer, right? I can't meet with them before 5 pm and they're not available on the weekends.

How much does probate cost? The deceased and his accounts are out-of-state, is that a problem? Do I need an out-of-state attorney? What kind of paper work do I need to collect to make sure his paperwork is in order (i.e. birth certificates, bank statements, death records, etc.) Is it just paperwork?

Frustrating.

The Crest

It looks as though the worst has past. They always say it's darker before the dawn.

My mother is doing better. She can raise her arms above her head. She's still not 100%, but she's getting there.

My brother is finally out of his old place, away from his exgirlfriend. I never really understood what he saw in her. But, he's a bit happier. He's now living with my mother until he can get back on his feet. In the past, my brother and I lived as bachelors for a few years. Our mom would check in ever so often. This bugged him a bit because he felt it incringed on his independence. He would bitch about her every time. Sometimes saying he hated her. We knew he didn't mean it, but he'd say it. Because of this, I think him moving with her is a disaster waiting to happen, but they're getting along for now. He called me the other night and said, "I shouldn't be here." I didn't know exactly what to say. His pride is hurt.

He's always been the big brother. The one to look up to, the one that is supposed to lead by example. I'm sure it hurts him a bit to be exposed and shown that he, too, can stumble or even fall. I'll bet it's a truth he wished he didn't have to learn.

I'm trying to help, anyway I can. I want to take him out to places, to be around people that aren't his mom, fun people (no offense mom.) Three weeks ago, we went to a bar and had a great time. I bought everything and I didn't mind one bit. I wish he didn't insist on paying me back, though, it was my treat. Plus, I know he can't/won't so I wish he'd stop offering. I had a lot of fun with him. It was worth every penny and I want to do it again. Mostly, he says, "I have no money." I can understand that, of course, but it's a downer when he won't come because refuses to let me pay. I just want him out of that house for a bit, clear his head, straighten his thoughts so he can focus on his goals better. But, I also don't want to damage his pride further. I'm sure it frustrates him. I love my family and I justwant to help them out, however I can. We all try to do what we're able. If he won't let me pay his bills, then let me ease his mind for a night.

My sister is still estranged and my brother is still in Nevada. I don't expect them to change anytime soon. Which can be a comfort sometimes, because you can count on them being where they are. No emergencies means a good day.

I didn't call my Father on Father's Day. I feel guilty for it. I have his cell, but he dosn't answer. My sister says his work took it away. I guess it was a company phone. I have his home number, but I'm uncomfortable with calling it. One of the advantages of cell phones is: the only person that usually answers, is the person your trying to reach.

It Falls in Clumps

It just doesn't seem to stop, now, does it?  My wife found a bump in her breast last week.  She had it checked by a doctor, who was concerned and ordered an ultrasound, which caused more concern so they ordered a biopsy.  It was benign (which is good), but caused enough concern to have the doctor say, lets take it out.  So an operation is now scheduled a few weeks from now.

Yesterday, my wife's step-father passed away.  He was a serious alcoholic.  Realizing he needed serious help, he turned to his ex-wife (my mother-in-law).  She doesn't keep any alcohol in the house and they thought it'd be a good idea for him to find stability there.  The rule was, he could stay there as long as he didn't drink.  He did great for a couple weeks.  Three days ago, he started sneaking it and she found out.  He broke the rule and had to go.  She said she didn't want to watch him die.  That night, he did.  His alarm was going off in the morning, she went in to turn it off and found him on the floor.

911 was called and he was rushed to the hospital where they were able to revive his heart, but it was too late.  His step-son performed a final blessing and they unplugged the machines.

This spring will remain in my memory in infamy.  What a horrible season.  It's been stabbed, it's dying and I hope it doesn't bleed into the next.

Falling to Pieces

Spring 2008 sucks ass.  I feel like my whole family is falling a part.  A quick recap as to what's happened.

In winter my Father was told he had high blood pressure.  About a month and a half ago, he had a heart attack, a mild one.  However, a heart attack is a heart attack is a heart attack, whether mild, severe or fatal.  Three weeks later, he went in for a triple bypass and ended up with a quadruple bypass.  I went to see him the following weekend and when we arrived, he had left 15 minutes prior.

Around the same time, my mother was diagnosed with high blood pressure.  She was put on medication.  Her body had a reaction to the medication and developed an autoimmune disease.  It's attacking her muscles, ligaments and skin tissue.  She can barely move because of the pain and is currently living in a basement so she doesn't have to walk up or down any stairs.  I went over there last week and had to move some furniture around because she's getting stir crazy.

My brother recently broke up with his girlfriend of five years.  He's depressed and upset.  He says he wants her out (because she left him) and he's packing her things, but his actions say otherwise.  She's creating a lot of drama.  I just learned that he's going to quit drinking, which is good.  The revelation came to him after he was released from a hospital.  Why was he in the hospital?  Because he drank two bottles of whisky and a bunch of sleeping pills.

My other brother across the desert is going to snap one day.  He's a cop, and carries a gun.  He lives in a nothing town in the middle of nothing.  He desperately needs to leave that place, but can't because his son is there.  He refuses to leave his son, which is good.  But that place will kill him if he doesn't leave.

My sister is estranged.  She never calls, she doesn't participate much in family events and I have no clue what is happening to her.  She just had her 23rd birthday, yesterday.

I feel I'm the only solid thing here.  I just want to say to all of them, "I'm here for you.  All you need to do is call.  I will make time for you.  I can offer some objectivity to your life, a different angle.  Just give me a call before you do what I think you're going to do."

Maybe I've estranged myself.  Maybe I'm the one who needs to take the initiative and do something, be there.  Yes.  I think I do.

Update: My mother started a blog. A sort of way to deal with her stir craziness.