When last we left our young, fearless preacher hero...
Just kidding. Kind of.
I feel it, as I stated before, vital that for you the reader to understand me better as a person, you must understand those that have had close and personal relationships with myself. We are shaped by, if nothing less, the relationships we hold in life. We have spoken at length of my immediate family; Candice my wife, and my two great boys, Isaiah and Jeremiah. I then spoke briefly about my parents. Perhaps at another point in time I will delve deeply into the personalities of my mother and father, but I do not feel to write about it at this time...
I thought I would take some time to mention a very special person in my life. God blessed me with a little brother growing up. When I was 2 1/2 years old, Shawn Casey Armey came into the world. The last of my parents children, and at the time, my worst enemy (according to the recollection of our mother.)
My earliest honest memories of him don't really begin until I was already close to four years old. I suppose, besides being blood related, our closest thread growing up, and really until this day has been that of professional wrestling. I know, I know. Just, suspend your disgust with me momentarily...although, I could quip on the few things positive about wrestling I will probably save that for another blog. Now that you all think less of me, I will continue on with the mainthought. In about mid-1990 I can remember watching wrestling with my brother as much as we could, only having an antenna you understand. We didn't get cable until 1994, and even then I think we only had 30 channels, but my brother and I would find wrestling.
Soon, we started wrestling. I know. Don't try this at home. Looking back at it retrospectively, and sometimes reviewing some of the surviving video tapes I realize how lucky we were to never be seriously injured. Ironically, my brother started to train to actually wrestle professionally this year and totally blew his knee out during training. Now don't get me wrong. There were plenty of bumps and bruises to go around, but we never wound up in the hospital or anything (though there were probably a few times we should have gone.)
I would be remiss not to mention the famous among us nuance of our mutually binding hobby called the FWF. Better known as the Figures Wrestling Federation. We would get all of our wrestling figures together and actually put on little shows with them, complete with ongoing storylines, champions, and predetemined outcomes for the matches. (I think so much to the point that I passed it on genetically to my youngest son Jeremiah...) I still vividly recall the first 4 inch Hasbro WWF figures we purchased when they first came out. We were going to buy Hulk Hogan, but the first week we went to the Wal Mart in Palatka they didn't have the Hulkster so we got Andre the Giant. Now, if I had any foresight at all, Iwould have kept at least a few of these in the package (some of them are now worth in the hundreds of dollars in the package!)But of course we didn't....we played with those things until the arms and legs fell off. Show after show.
I would say the bulk majority of our time spent together growing up was spent either watching wrestling, putting on wrestling shows with our action figures, or wrestling each other in the backyard in one of several homemade wrestling rings, or playing a wrestling based video game. When we got a video camera for Christmas of 1994 we began to tape our in ring exploits frequently...by spring of 1995 we had built our first off the ground ring complete with posts and ropes (though not well enough constructed that we could actually bounce off the ropes, mind you...) That summer we had a bunch of our friends over for a wrestling party that we called "Crash Carnival..." a tape that I just got through converting to DVD a few days ago...
I guess there is some pyschological warmth of feeling I have for the 'sport' despite some of the things about it that are not of redeemable value because it is hard for me to differentiate between memories of my brother and memories of wrestling. For the most part, they go hand in hand.
There is one major thing I do recall however, that involves me and my brother outside of the realm of professional wrestling. In the summer of 1995 mom and dad were dragging us to a home Bible study at one of my dad's friends' house...for most of these lessons we stayed in the back bedroom playing their Nintendo, you guessed it: 'Pro Wrestling.' However, when it came time for Bro. Finley (another person of whom I have much to say, though I will not at this point to be out of context) to teach the lesson on water baptism in Jesus' name mom and dad requested our presence at the dinner table.
Sadly, I recall no specifics of the lesson itself, only a terrible feeling in my gut: why didn't they teach us this at the Church of God? What am I going to do? These were thoughts, and I kept them to myself. It was just Shawn and myself standing outside on the small porch, together sharing no doubt the same feelings on the inside...it was my brother that spoke up. "I think we need to be baptized in Jesus' name..." Would I have had the courage to say anything at all had my brother not spoken up when he did? I honestly do not know. His resoluteness lead to our baptisms on October 1st 1995 in Gainesville, by Bro Finley, under the ministry of Jeff Arnold. When I came out of the water, God filled me with the Holy Ghost with the supernatural evidence of speaking with tongues, (of men or angels, I did not discern.) It was the greatest spiritual event of my life, but I really don't know if I would have had the courage to step in the water if Shawn had not vocalized what I was holding inside. I am forever indebted to him. I have always admired that part of him...
In high school we drifted apart to some degree. I was girl crazy. I had two or three 'serious' relationships that at the time I put above everything in my life, including God, and especially my brother. He began to hang out with kind of a gothic, punk rock crowd, and I just wasn't in to that scene. We still wrestled, but there was one year in high school that I remember going the whole year without stepping in the ring, or spending much time together at all. We had two separate lives. But it was my fault. I was neglecting him for my own selfish ambitions. I later apologized to him for this in a letter a few years ago. If I had it to do over again, I would have spent more time with my brother. For that matter, I would have spent more time with all of my family. But him especially.
Life happens so fast. After graduating I moved to Gainesville a year later, and a year after that I was in Texas, and a year after that I was married, and a year after that I was a father...And in that span of time I saw him only two or three times for the physical distance between us. He came to my wedding in 2003, along with my parents.
Now I'm 28. Still in Texas, clearly, trying to mow down the path that God wants for me. My childhood, I have realized, has come and gone. But my heart is still filled with years worth of memories, and it seems like Shawn is in all the good ones.
He has since married a wonderful girl named Amanda, and God has blessed him with twins, Kennedy and Alyssa - both of whom I got to hold the last time I was in Florida to visit. They are two now. They really were miracle babies. But do you see what I mean? How fast life goes by. I know that's not really the theme of this article, but it seems it could be.
Since moving away from Florida, Shawn and I have grown much closer. Via the magic of the telephone, we talk quite a bit. In fact, I talk to Shawn on the phone more than anyone else in my family. Something I should have spent time doing the last two years of high school. Anyway. I once told my brother in a letter, and I reiterate the point here, that the bulk majority of my favorite childhood memories involve the presence and relationship with my brother...and now that we are grown we spend time often reminiscing about those moments, but we talk about pretty much anything. I love and respect him, and he will always be my brother. Shawn, if you're reading this, I am very proud of you, and proud to call you brother.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Random Musings #1 "People I Love"
From time to time I am going to write a blog that is not really centrally focused on a single topic. A bit of freewrite if you will. Today is Mother's Day, and of course my thoughts went to mom on many occasions today during church and other goings on. Not sure if I have really put in print how I feel about my mother, or my father for that matter. I thought today a good Random Musings topic would be about people that are of great importance to me in my life, that way if I happen to mention them in a later blog, and you don't know who I am referring, perhaps you may be able to refer back to this page for some background info...
Now these are as they relate to me. These are not all encompassing bio-pics to be sure of these wonderful people, but I will give you a little window into who they are and why I love them...why don't we start when some family members.
FAMILY
Wife, companion, and best friend on earth: Candice.
There is not a more important soul to me than that of my lovely wife. We have been married for over six happy years, and every year it gets better. I become a better husband, she is continuing to be a great wife, and our marriage is as strong as ever. I look at Candice and see so many deep levels of real beauty that few people possess. Oh, yes, she is gorgeous to look it, but her value to me goes so much deeper than just what I see on the surface. Every look in her wistful brown eyes is soft reminder of how kind, and patient, forgiving, and self-sacrificing she has been to me, and those reminders of how lucky I am our like precious diamonds and jewels that I keep on a display, reminding of how valuable she really is. I will no doubt speak far more of my wife in future blogs, but I just thought you would like to know up front that without her, I would not be who I am.
Isaiah - My Oldest Son
When Candice told me we were going to have a baby just six short months into our marriage, I was more than a bit overwhelmed. I was making about $150 a week back then in a good week. I was not sure how I would afford him. I was still extremely childish myself; how was I going to teach him how to be a man? Nevertheless, Isaiah Omar arrived into our world on February 15th, 2005. We took him home a few days later and my life has never been the same since then. Marriage does not really change a person to a high degree. It can motivate you to change, but having a child really forces you to grow up.
I remember many a night I spent in the small bathroom in our two bedroom apartment with the shower turned on to provide some soothing background noise while I rocked our little Zaybo and sang to him to get him to go to sleep night after night. I remember vividly when he was about four months holding him one night and seeing how big he got so quick and just weeping, knowing one day I would miss him being this small, and that the growing wasn't going to stop anytime soon. Children have a unique way of teaching us to live in the moment, for it will soon pass into the realm of memories. I have so many memories of Isaiah, and he adds new ones every day. He is now at the pivotal age of five. Out of that toddler stage for the most park, talking in full sentences, having a very defined personality already. I see so much of me in him, and Candice, but I see so much in him that is unique, hard to identify exactly who he got it from. I know he is going to be able to be and do whatever he applies himself to one day. Its going to be hard to watch him grow into young man, but at the same time I can think of no greater accomplishment than to see that he succeeds in becoming that godly young man. No matter how old he gets, he'll always be my first child, I will always call him "Bobi," and I will always have precious memories to replay of sleepless nights, wobbly first steps, and Christmas's no longer about what I was getting, but about what I was giving. Thank you Isaiah, for all you have done for me as a person...
PS: He LOVES Thomas The Train...first it was Blues Clues, but Thomas has pretty effectively taken that title away for a few years now. I am so proud of him!
Jeremiah - My Youngest Boy
Oh Lord, where do I even start? The truth of the matter is, though I love him, Isaiah was Candice's idea. When Isaiah turned three, this time it was me that wanted another baby. We got Jeremiah. I was not all that helpful in the early going with Isaiah because I really didn't know what I was doing. But when JJ came along, I did my best to get up with him, rock him back to sleep, change diapers...I remember holding him in my arms one service at the altar just weeping over him. I asked for it, I got it. Now I've got to raise it, and raise it right. Daddy grew up a little bit more in that moment.
I remember the panic we felt not knowing what that bump on his skull was. Of course, it turned out to be just a calcific hematoma, nothing to worry about, common with c-sectioned babies. But I now know what its like to sit in the neourosurgeon's office and wait for news that could be not just bad news, but sometimes the worst just runs through you're mind. What if? What if he needs surgery? Am I really prepared to loose the child I prayed for? How do you handle that degree of loss? If I ever lost JJ, I would never be the same.
He likes to be held a certain way. He always has to lay his head in the nape of my neck. He won't let me hold him any other way. 'He feels safe' I think to myself. He trusts me. My prayer is: Lord don't ever let me make a mistake that would damage that trust, no matter how old he gets.
He likes hot dogs, professional wrestling ('wammo' in baby language), and crawling in bed with mommy and daddy in the middle of the night...
He's the perfect little brother for Isaiah. I love watching there relationship unfold right before my eyes. God has blessed with me with the two best boys a father could ever want.
MY PARENTS: Jack and Linda
My parents are, if nothing else, unique. They parented four of us, Melanie, then Mary, then Me, and then my little brother Shawn. Dad was born in Fort Wayne Indiana to a church of God preacher and wife; Willard and Glenna Armey. My father served in Vietnam in 1968 and saw some very heavy combat (which I didn't really know until a few years ago, he never talked about it when were kids...) Shortly after coming home from the war and moving to Florida he met my mother. Mom was the baby of her family, the youngest of five children. In 1972 they were married. I love my parents very much. Were they perfect? No. But they both did their best to see to it that we were well taken care of, happy children. I had a great childhood. As a matter of fact, I will devoting some blog space later on hopefully to a memoir of my childhood. They still live in Florida...in the same house my mom grew up in. Dad still likes guns and fixing things...Mom is still mom, doing her best to make everyone happy, making every dollar stretch as far as it will go. I'll say this much, I think my parents were very giving growing up. I don't remember them buying much for themselves. Seems they were always giving in to the whimsical fancies of us boys...plus necessities. I guess there just never was much left for them to do much fun stuff. I don't recall them going shopping, or going on date nights or anything like that. They both lived for us kids. Dad worked for us...Mom did everything she could to see that we were well adjusted children. She never let on that we were poor, though they themselves to this day are low maintenance, easy to please people...So if I'm not impressed your fancy clothes, house, car, food, you know where I got it from...
Think I'll stop there for the night...on the next random musings I will talk more about my siblings, and some very close friends and highly influential people on my life...until next time!
Now these are as they relate to me. These are not all encompassing bio-pics to be sure of these wonderful people, but I will give you a little window into who they are and why I love them...why don't we start when some family members.
FAMILY
Wife, companion, and best friend on earth: Candice.
There is not a more important soul to me than that of my lovely wife. We have been married for over six happy years, and every year it gets better. I become a better husband, she is continuing to be a great wife, and our marriage is as strong as ever. I look at Candice and see so many deep levels of real beauty that few people possess. Oh, yes, she is gorgeous to look it, but her value to me goes so much deeper than just what I see on the surface. Every look in her wistful brown eyes is soft reminder of how kind, and patient, forgiving, and self-sacrificing she has been to me, and those reminders of how lucky I am our like precious diamonds and jewels that I keep on a display, reminding of how valuable she really is. I will no doubt speak far more of my wife in future blogs, but I just thought you would like to know up front that without her, I would not be who I am.
Isaiah - My Oldest Son
When Candice told me we were going to have a baby just six short months into our marriage, I was more than a bit overwhelmed. I was making about $150 a week back then in a good week. I was not sure how I would afford him. I was still extremely childish myself; how was I going to teach him how to be a man? Nevertheless, Isaiah Omar arrived into our world on February 15th, 2005. We took him home a few days later and my life has never been the same since then. Marriage does not really change a person to a high degree. It can motivate you to change, but having a child really forces you to grow up.
I remember many a night I spent in the small bathroom in our two bedroom apartment with the shower turned on to provide some soothing background noise while I rocked our little Zaybo and sang to him to get him to go to sleep night after night. I remember vividly when he was about four months holding him one night and seeing how big he got so quick and just weeping, knowing one day I would miss him being this small, and that the growing wasn't going to stop anytime soon. Children have a unique way of teaching us to live in the moment, for it will soon pass into the realm of memories. I have so many memories of Isaiah, and he adds new ones every day. He is now at the pivotal age of five. Out of that toddler stage for the most park, talking in full sentences, having a very defined personality already. I see so much of me in him, and Candice, but I see so much in him that is unique, hard to identify exactly who he got it from. I know he is going to be able to be and do whatever he applies himself to one day. Its going to be hard to watch him grow into young man, but at the same time I can think of no greater accomplishment than to see that he succeeds in becoming that godly young man. No matter how old he gets, he'll always be my first child, I will always call him "Bobi," and I will always have precious memories to replay of sleepless nights, wobbly first steps, and Christmas's no longer about what I was getting, but about what I was giving. Thank you Isaiah, for all you have done for me as a person...
PS: He LOVES Thomas The Train...first it was Blues Clues, but Thomas has pretty effectively taken that title away for a few years now. I am so proud of him!
Jeremiah - My Youngest Boy
Oh Lord, where do I even start? The truth of the matter is, though I love him, Isaiah was Candice's idea. When Isaiah turned three, this time it was me that wanted another baby. We got Jeremiah. I was not all that helpful in the early going with Isaiah because I really didn't know what I was doing. But when JJ came along, I did my best to get up with him, rock him back to sleep, change diapers...I remember holding him in my arms one service at the altar just weeping over him. I asked for it, I got it. Now I've got to raise it, and raise it right. Daddy grew up a little bit more in that moment.
I remember the panic we felt not knowing what that bump on his skull was. Of course, it turned out to be just a calcific hematoma, nothing to worry about, common with c-sectioned babies. But I now know what its like to sit in the neourosurgeon's office and wait for news that could be not just bad news, but sometimes the worst just runs through you're mind. What if? What if he needs surgery? Am I really prepared to loose the child I prayed for? How do you handle that degree of loss? If I ever lost JJ, I would never be the same.
He likes to be held a certain way. He always has to lay his head in the nape of my neck. He won't let me hold him any other way. 'He feels safe' I think to myself. He trusts me. My prayer is: Lord don't ever let me make a mistake that would damage that trust, no matter how old he gets.
He likes hot dogs, professional wrestling ('wammo' in baby language), and crawling in bed with mommy and daddy in the middle of the night...
He's the perfect little brother for Isaiah. I love watching there relationship unfold right before my eyes. God has blessed with me with the two best boys a father could ever want.
MY PARENTS: Jack and Linda
My parents are, if nothing else, unique. They parented four of us, Melanie, then Mary, then Me, and then my little brother Shawn. Dad was born in Fort Wayne Indiana to a church of God preacher and wife; Willard and Glenna Armey. My father served in Vietnam in 1968 and saw some very heavy combat (which I didn't really know until a few years ago, he never talked about it when were kids...) Shortly after coming home from the war and moving to Florida he met my mother. Mom was the baby of her family, the youngest of five children. In 1972 they were married. I love my parents very much. Were they perfect? No. But they both did their best to see to it that we were well taken care of, happy children. I had a great childhood. As a matter of fact, I will devoting some blog space later on hopefully to a memoir of my childhood. They still live in Florida...in the same house my mom grew up in. Dad still likes guns and fixing things...Mom is still mom, doing her best to make everyone happy, making every dollar stretch as far as it will go. I'll say this much, I think my parents were very giving growing up. I don't remember them buying much for themselves. Seems they were always giving in to the whimsical fancies of us boys...plus necessities. I guess there just never was much left for them to do much fun stuff. I don't recall them going shopping, or going on date nights or anything like that. They both lived for us kids. Dad worked for us...Mom did everything she could to see that we were well adjusted children. She never let on that we were poor, though they themselves to this day are low maintenance, easy to please people...So if I'm not impressed your fancy clothes, house, car, food, you know where I got it from...
Think I'll stop there for the night...on the next random musings I will talk more about my siblings, and some very close friends and highly influential people on my life...until next time!
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