In this section of the website you will find various things that are meant to give you a little insight into the history of the man they call Loaf, and the events that have led up to me becoming who I am today. This page will probably take me the longest to complete, and will be under constant construction because there is so much that I want to say, and so much that I am not sure how.
Victory Over Hardships - I found this paper that I had to write for a Freshman Composition Course I took at New Paltz. I think it sums up some aspects of myself quite nicely, so I figured I'd put it here for you all to see. I hope you enjoy it.
Requiem For A Man - My stepfather, whom I affectionately refer to as my Dad, passed away on January 15, 1999. I had the unfortunate privilege of speaking about him at his funeral. He is without a doubt one of the biggest influences I have ever had in my life, and I miss him dearly. This is a copy of the eulogy I gave at his funeral.
Trust. Faith. Love. - 09/01/2002 - I've had a lot of thoughts swimming around in my head lately, what with all of the changes that have come about in my life of late. This was sort of a release, a way for me to sort out some of the feelings I seem destined to be a slave to.
The Sacred Institution - 12/04/2002 - Since every day that passes brings me one step closer to becoming a spouse, I felt it would only be fitting for me to give a few thoughts on marriage here.
The Road Less Traveled - 07/24/2003 - I have unfortunately been given a time limit in which to decide what path my life will take... T minus 10 Days, beginning... Now.
UPDATE - For those of you watching, waiting, or caring, I decided to stay in Petrology, where my heart was at. Wish me luck, I am going to need it!
With These Words, I Thee Wed - 09/20/2003 (Posted 01/15/2003) - This is the much requested copy of the Wedding Vows that I wrote for Jan to pledge my and love to her, forever.
The greatest battles ever fought are the hardest won. Nothing important in life comes easily. I have faced many such battles, however one was greater than all the others combined. For many years, it ruined my life, I had no solace, and no where I could go to get away from the monster that haunted my childhood. That monster was my father.
I remember times when I was little, merely four years old, when my father would take me to the field to play catch, or so my mother was told. We would actually go his girlfriend's sister's house, where I would be locked in a room full of toys while they did their business. This happened quite a few times, and he told me that I had to tell my mother that we went to the field to play catch. I, being a four year old who loved my dad, complied with his demands, despite what I was taught about lying. I remember, though, the day when I couldn't lie anymore; the same scenario occurred yet again, and when I came home, my mother asked if I had fun at the field. I started crying uncontrollably. My father just looked at me and walked out the door, only to come home drunk later that night, and not in the best of moods. It was that night, June 1, 1984, twenty-four days before my sister was born, that my parents had their final fight, and my father left, for good.
That was where the battle began; in my bedroom, crying into my pillow so my mom couldn't hear me because I was The Man Of The House now. I had absolutely no desire to hold this esteemed position, all I really wanted was for my dad to come home. It was my fault that he left, no matter what mommy said. If I had just been a good boy and done what he had told me to do, he would still be here, he would never have left. For three months, those were the only thoughts going through my head, and it was causing problems at school. Very soon, I became the only Kindergartner I have ever known to be in actual, full - blown therapy.
I refused to talk to that therapist, but over the following eight years I had three more, two of whom quit, and one of whom moved to Mississippi. After these eight years, I finally came to the inevitable conclusion that Therapy wasn't working, and that I would have to do this on my own. I continued to have problems at school, at home, and with my family and friends. About four years later, when I was seventeen, my father didn't give me a birthday gift, not even a phone call, and it pushed me right back over the edge. After my little escapade, and it's sentence, were up, I finally just sat down and thought; about what my father did to me and my sister, what he did to my mom, and what he continues to do to this day. It was then that I placed two and two together and realized two things; number one, he doesn't even realize what he does, and number two, when he finally does, he doesn't care. I realized then that I can't change who he is, was, or will be; if he doesn't care, then neither should I; there's no point in trying to show the light to a blind man, so I finally let it go. Finally, on that day, January 17, 1997, I won the battle.
After thirteen years of pain, anger and frustration, I finally won the most important battle of my life. The odds were against me the whole way, and the battle itself taxed my mental health, but I overcame adversity and led myself to victory. I will always hate my father for what he has done, but now, I don't need to live my life around that pain, trying to correct it. Now, I just sit back and wait for my father's inner battle to begin.
Top
Many of you here today have known Rich longer than I have. Some of you went to school with him, some of you worked with him, and some of you were acquainted with him otherwise. But one thing that is common among all of us here today is that we have come to honor the life of Richard Dugan. Whether it was as a husband, friend, brother, father, or son, Rich touched our lives in some way.
In the few short years that I knew Rich, he became a very important person in my life. He became a friend. Someone I could talk to and confide in. Someone who would listen when I needed to vent. He became a mentor. Someone I could turn to for advice and guidance. Someone who really had been there, done that, and gotten the T-shirt. His advice and his stories, no matter how long they may be, helped get me through some of the times in my life when I wasn't sure whether or not I was going to come out on top. He became my protector. Someone who shielded me while I was down. Someone who stood up for me, no matter what the case. I can't count the number of times he and my mom went to bat for me when I somehow managed to get myself into a tight spot, AGAIN.
Even while he played all these roles, he became something far more important. He became my dad. Someone who watched over me, and took care of me. Someone I looked up to and learned from. Someone I trusted and loved. He gave my sister and I that part of our lives that we were lacking, and I will always be grateful to him for that.
Even now, it's the little things that I miss. Him coming home from work and talking about the wingnuts that came into the office today. Him sitting on the couch watching Jerry Springer or Ricki Lake wondering aloud where the hell they find these people. Him cussing up a storm when something he was working on didn't go exactly according to plan. I'm even going to miss the incessant cracks he used to hurl at me about my hair. But most of all, I'm going to miss him.
There is a song that I heard on the radio last night that I believe sums up what many of us are feeling right now.
The Offspring - Gone Away
Maybe in another life, I could find you there.
Pulled away before your time. I can't deal it's so unfair.
And it feels, and it feels like Heaven is so far away.
And it feels, yeah it feels like The world has grown cold, now that you've gone away.
Leaving flowers on your grave, To show that I still care.
Black roses and Hail Mary's, Can't bring back, what's taken from me.
I reach to the sky. And call out your name.
God if I could trade. I would.
And it feels, and it feels like Heaven is so far away.
And it stings, yeah it stings now. The world has grown cold, now that you've gone away.
I reach to the sky. And call out your name.
Oh please let me trade. I would.
And it feels, and it feels like Heaven is so far away.
And it feels, yeah it feels like, The world has grown cold, now that you've gone away.
Good luck on your journey Rich, and godspeed. Check in on us from time to time, ok?
Top
Trust. Faith. Love. Three words that represent the most basic of human affections. From infancy we are inundated with the idea that we should have these affections for the people who are closest to us. When we are younger, these people are our families. Parents, Grandparents, Siblings, Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, you get the picture. As we get older, that circle extends to include our closest friends, and perhaps even our teachers and in some cases, such as mine, therapists. Then, as we reach the ages of adolescence and adulthood, this circle grows to include the all important significant other, and eventually, our own children.
Trust. Faith. Love. Three feelings we are supposed to have toward our closest companions in life. Three emotions that these people are supposed to invoke deep within the recesses of your soul. Three words whose meanings have been tainted in my eyes forever. These three words are supposed to conjure up images of loved ones whom we can trust implicitly, put our undying faith into, and love unconditionally. What happens when the people who are closest to you, who you are supposed to trust, love, and have faith in, spurn these emotions by committing acts against them? These three emotions then begin to conjure images of insecurity, pain, and sorrow.
Trust. Faith. Love. Three words that seem to have become a punchline in a twisted joke dripping with irony. The question arises then, who is it that I should trust? With every expansion of my circle, I have known only betrayal and pain.
I have known the pain of rejection by a parent, one who is supposed to guide me and help me grow into a better person. If I have grown into a better person it is in spite of him, rather than because of him as it should be.
I have known the pain of being stabbed in the back by people who are supposed to be some of my closest friends. There are few things in this life that can sting worse than the wound left by the blade of a brother.
I have known the pain of what can only be described as the ultimate betrayal by the one person who was supposed to be my eternal partner in this existence. They say lightning never strikes twice, but they are in fact wrong. To live through it once was enough to destroy me, but to live through it twice has numbed me to the core. If it wasn't for the pain that remains, I would question my ability to feel anything anymore.
Trust. Faith. Love. What have they ever done for me? How have they helped me? Why have I been a victim of my own emotions? Why do I let it happen again and again? Why must even these positive emotions be tainted by pain and sadness? Am I destined to be cursed by these feelings?
Trust. Faith. Love. I'd be better off without them.
Top
I have a lot of thoughts about marriage, and as the time for my own draws nearer, I find myself pondering the inner workings of this institution more and more. Marriage can be a wonderful thing, a blissful expression of one's love for another that lasts forever. It can also be a living hell. I have always dreamt of the day that I would find the right person and decide to marry them and live happily ever after. Marriage is beautiful in my eyes, despite the efforts of the outside world to taint it. But no matter how lovely a thing I envision it to be, I must admit that marriage frightens the hell out of me.
The fairy tale loves we see in the movies are what I have long aspired my love to be like. I have always wanted the perfect love, the storybook romance. I can see it in my head clearly when I lay down to dream. Yet all the forces in my life that I am subjected to steer me away from this image. In my experience, marriage has only brought pain, loss, sorrow, and suffering.
From the time I was a small child, the idea of marriage began to sour in my little brain with the day to day observation of my Parents and the marriage they unfortunately shared. Fights were rare; they just never spoke. When they did fight, it was usually about me, or eventually my mother's pregnancy with my sister, or perhaps the fact that my father was apparently unable to keep his pants on around other women. Either way, when they did occur, they were quite the spectacle, believe you me. But, when it was finally over, and the marriage was no more, I found myself longing for it to return. I missed my father. I wanted him back. If only I knew then how much better off we were without him, maybe I wouldn't have been such a headcase as a youth. This was merely the first in a long line of bad marriage experiences I was privy to witnessing over my life.
Finally, after years of solitude and sadness, my mother managed to marry my Dad, Rich. This was the first time I could honestly say that marriage was a positive thing. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for him to step into our family and become a father figure to two half grown children. He treated my mother and my family well, and gave us everything that he could. Yet, this marriage was marked by pain of another kind. The pain of loss. Our worlds were destroyed when he died, and in many ways, we will never recover. I know I haven't. Even though his intentions were good, and the marriage was a good thing, it still managed to manifest one of the worst kinds of pain.
So, sometimes I wonder, why the hell am I going to get married? I have seen what it can do to people. People I love and care about. So why would I bring that on myself? Am I a sucker? A glutton for punishment? Just plain stupid?
No.
I'm getting married because I am in love. My world revolves around Jan, and everything she does and means to me. Without her, nothing has meaning. I am getting married because I believe in it. I believe in marriage. I believe it can work. I believe it can be great, wonderful, and a whole host of other positive adjectives. I am getting married because deep down inside it feels right. I think about it and it makes me smile. I think about her and I smile. So why am I getting married, you still ask?
Because I'm going to be that one guy who breaks the curve and makes it work.
Top
All my life people have told me that I should consider myself lucky because I have direction, because I know what I want to do with my life. They tell me most people don't figure that out until much later in life, oftentimes not until after it's too late. I am told that it is a blessing that I have found something that I love to do, and that I am good enough at to have the opportunity to devote my life to. With all this luck that I am supposed to have, why does it feel like it is running out?
Perhaps I am getting a little ahead of myself. Now would be a good time for me to pause in my pontification to give a little backstory to you, my cherished reader (ideally that would be plural, but let's not get too overly optimistic...). A made a decision during my final year at New Paltz that I wanted to go to Graduate School for my Ph.D. Now, I had multiple areas of interest that I wanted to explore, which was in fact the main reason I chose to go to Stony Brook, since it was the one place I could dabble in multiple things, and I ended up doing just that.
I started working in Don Lindsley's Experimental Petrology Lab last summer, with the intent of completing a quick semester project early, before the pressure of classes began. Then, I would switch over into Aqueous Environmental Geochemistry as per my master plan. However, I really enjoyed working in the lab with Don, and it turned out I was half-way decent at it, so what was supposed to be a quick project developed and grew into something more. I am now completing a Master's Thesis based on the research I have done over the last year.
Now, during this past year, I also began working, admittedly part-time, with Brian Phillips in Aqueous Environmental Geochemistry and NMR Spectroscopy. I am very interested in this field, and intellectually am very stimulated by it. This summer, I am working half-time in both labs. Now, you have the necessary background information to understand my current exposition. And here's where the difficulty arises.
I have to choose.
I have been offered a Ph.D. project in both labs, and both of them are very tempting. I was hoping to be able to use this summer to decide which one I wanted to do, but the decision has gotten even more difficult to make, instead of easier as I had hoped. I keep getting "sales pitches" from both sides, and I want so badly to jump at both of them. I have even gone so far as to find out the steps it would be necessary to take to work on two Ph.D.'s at the same time; an option that may make me insane, but may well be the only one in which I could be happy. Of course, this all would hinge on whether or not the parties involved agreed to it, which is in serious question. So, again, I find myself at an impasse.
I stand at a crossroads, not knowing which way to turn.
The worst part about it? People still act like I should feel lucky. There are some people who have trouble finding support, getting funding, or clicking with someone in a lab. They tell me I'm extremely lucky because I have two labs fighting over me, and have pretty much my pick of the litter. They look at me like I'm insane when I don't share their joyous outlook of the situation. Maybe it would be great for them, but not for me. Why?
It's the first time in my life that I can remember that I haven't known what direction to choose.
There are just too many factors to try to think about when making a decision. Spending the rest of my life doing something, finding a job when I am done, what do I enjoy more, and none of these are cut and dry. So, just as I was at the beginning of this tirade, I sit unsure of my future, even as my fate lies in my own hands.
Do I take the road less traveled, and choose one of my two loves, hoping not to regret it? Or do I take the road least traveled, and make a superhuman-slash-retardedly-insane attempt to do both?
One can dream.
Top
We all are born unto this Earth, Our spirits free to roam,
Our hearts forever searching for a place to call their home.
By stroke of luck, or twist of fate, whatever it may be
My heart had finally found its home when it found Jan Marie.
Our lives have become intertwined in every single way.
The love that my heart holds for you grows with each passing day.
I love your personality, the best I've seen by far.
I love all of the little things that make you who you are.
From the way you tend to fall asleep when you sit still too long,
To the way you stick your tongue out when you know that you are wrong.
I love the way you make me smile when I'm in a bad mood
And how you laugh along with me when I say something crude.
I love your crooked smile and the way you hold me close,
But the way you love me in return is what I love the most.
Your love has helped me reach new heights in everything I do.
I don't know who I'd be today if it were not for you.
For in my endless quest to stand apart from every crowd
I've seen and done things in my life that haven't made me proud.
I blame nobody but myself for mistakes that I have made.
But I've done my time and set things right, my penance has been paid.
So now I stand alone before you, stripped of all false pride
To pledge my love and life to you, forever side-by-side.
I didn't settle for one I could live with, as so many do.
I sought the one I couldn't live without, and found that soul in you.
So now in the name of God, I, Matthew Whitaker
Take you, Jan Kubicek, to be my wife forevermore.
From this day forth I vow to love you with all that I am,
To have and hold you as my wife, and proud to be your man.
For better or worse I'll stand with you, in sickness and in health.
Till death, I'll love and cherish you, in poverty or wealth.
These promises will never break, this solemn vow is mine.
Together we will face forever, one day at a time.
Top
Home | Personal | Stats | History | Words | Gallery | Thoughts | Contact | Links
Email the LoafMaster. All Contents © 2002, 2003, 2004 Land Of The Loaf Ltd.