JstRead

As someone who enjoys writing from time to time, you’d really think I would enjoy reading more, but I don’t. Occasionally, I go through spells where I read two or three books in a short time period. And then I go months, even years without picking up reading material that isn’t 80% ads. When it comes to books, my reading pallet isn’t much different from my eating pallet. I have a few authors I enjoy to read, and I’ll happily read anything they put out. But I don’t experiment often, and that’s probably a mistake, just as it is with my eating. And I may never admit that again.

Then a few months ago, I was taking a leadership class at work, and I just happen to be reading The Sports Guy’s first book, “Now I Can Die in Peace.” The instructor found the title both amusing and a little unsettling, so he’d ask questions about it daily, as it sat a top my desk for something to do on breaks and before class began. We got to talking a little about it, and I learned that these sports journalists I like so much, happen to be family friends of his. Turns out his dad used to organize a little NCAA shin dig we call “March Madness.” That’s off the charts.

The conversation turned a little more somber when he mentioned his father had penned a book about a family tragedy. See, my instructor had a brother, and this brother was aboard a plane full of Oklahoma State basketball family members, and this plane never made it to its destination. So his father rode his bike from California to Georgia, in an attempt to well, do something that at least involved moving in a forward motion, after losing his son.

So my wife picked up the book for me last week, and I dove right in. I read just about the entire book the first day. This is only an accomplishment in my eyes now, after expierence just what a challenge it is to read when your child is in the house. Sorry, mom. And with work, the wife, the kid, and most of all, the fact that I didn’t want this read to end, I didn’t finish the book during the week.

This is the type of book, that as you read it, you promise yourself some life altering changes. You’ll live in the moment more, tell your friends and family how much they mean to you, stop and smell the roses, or just keep an eye out for an armadillo that’s alive. Your eyes water up, and you shutter the very thought of going through something as awful as losing your child. You want to vomit. You want to walk up to the writer and give this complete stranger a hug. And in the back of your mind, you know you won’t really do any of this, and you feel like you’ve failed the writer. You also think, in the back of your mind, that someone read this and made all those changes. You both admire and resent that soul.

I’ve learned more about the Hancock family than I should know. I met the writer, John Hancock’s son for one short week, and I could never say I knew him. But now I know much about him, and his family. I know the names of his wife, his sister-in-law and his niece. I know stories from his childhood.

I’ve read books before, about real people even, and I learned their stories. But there’s something different about reading a book about someone you’ve met. It’s like reading having a view of their life that maybe you shouldn’t have. And you can’t stop looking. But this is the view of one amazing family. The class I took was about leadership, and the instructor comes from a family of amazing leaders. This is one remarkable family, the Hancocks. The stories told are those of dreams. A close knit, smart, fun, funny, loving family that seems to already appreciate every gift they have. They didn’t need, not that anyone does, a wake up call or reminder.

But maybe we needed them to. So John Hancock would write “Riding with the Blue Moth” so we could have the pleasure of reading it, and even for a few minutes, dream of being better versions of ourselves. The “Moth” ranks up there with “Tuesdays with Morrie” and “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” It’s a must read, and a must own. The “lessons’ Hancock writes for his young grand-daughter are lessons we should all write down, and read often to ourselves and our kids.