I’m currently working on a piece that discusses the highs and lows of my 53 days away from home.
In the meantime, I thought I’d share a few short videos of my recent release and “jailbreak” toward home.
Out of the room & moving down the hall….
My wife, Shelly, pushing me towards the “fresh air”!
Next, my mom drove me back to my neighborhood due to the PTSD from my wife’s Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI).
Appreciating my MOM driving me to my neighborhood!
Below is a typically beautiful Arizona sunset, with a couple of F-35’s heading towards the runway at Luke Air Force base. We in the neighborhood call it “The Sound of Freedom”.
A beautiful Arizona Sunset with the Luke Air Force Base F-35’s heading towards landing.
Hello! I have not written anything here since October. I wanted to communicate that I am in the midst of quite the battle with COVID-19 pneumonia. I’ve now been hospitalized for a total of 34 days. My chances were not good upon entry, but I have fought with total focus of positivity, patience, no fear and zero negativity. This amazed the medical staff as they have never seen anything like this.
Taking strength today to simply stand up.
As you are aware, I’m a music man. I have played music from Spotify on my phone to my Bluetooth speaker 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Friends from throughout the world have been sending Spotify playlists to me that vibrantly are tailored to me.
Myself, Shelly, our two sons, Taylor & Dylan as well as their 2 girlfriends, Michelle & Ashley spent Thanksgiving weekend at the ocean in San Diego. We all had an amazing time. We also all caught the virus. The kids shook it off rather easily. Shelly had an awful time with it, but fortunately did not have the lung issues I’ve had.
Being her caregiver and not being home is tough. She isn’t sleeping nearly enough. I ensure 7 days a week that she sleeps the nine hours her TBI requires by leaving the house with the dogs, shortly after 5 am. We go to Sunsational Coffee, right up the road. I spend 2-3 hours each day on my book (was almost finished). I stay and write until I get the “I’m up” text from Shelly. That’s the prompt I can head towards home. Where I then forget about the book until the next early morning, and focus on being the best loan officer until well past dark.
Now the dogs, Molly & Dino, miss me. Molly sleeps at the door, waiting for me. She’s up between 5 and 6. Shelly never gets enough sleep.
The first week, 21 year old Taylor & his girlfriend Michelle (Mac) came to help take care of Shelly. That was great! Now Shelly’s Mom is here to stay for the duration, which is huge help and a big relief. But with routines being the foundation for Shelly with her Traumatic Brain Injury and PTSD, routines are now impossible.
I could go on and on, but will instead say; I will be back here to write a lot. Most likely after the fact. Now I invite you to follow my real-time journey on Instagram by following me @holeenchilada. Or Facebook, friend me at Bob Millsap. You can send a message saying you know me from the blog.
Thank you! We will get through this offering positivity and hope to many.
Molly came to visit today with Shelly and our other puppy Dino.
The “Keep Playing” email is an uplifting start to each day for us at Fairway Independent Mortgage. Originally it was written daily by Jake, our founder & CEO, Steve Jacobson. Now every day a different person from our company shares a little piece of themselves.
Last year I shared my 9/11 story. Today I shared this….
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I am a 2nd generation grocer. By the mid-2000’s I was the Chief Operating Officer of the fastest growing start-up grocery chain in America; a company that I had led from scratch. My focus and intensity made so much happen, but I’d steamroll any vendor or employee that didn’t produce the results exactly how I wanted them.
This roughness towards people eventually got me pushed out the door, years prior to the company selling to Sprouts for hundreds of millions of dollars.
I was devastated as I suddenly found myself with a year’s severance and nothing to do.
A grocery friend of mine had a girlfriend in the mortgage business. She knew of a young twenty-something guy that was teaching a class on how to become a loan officer. That instructor was Kyle Fischer, who all these years later is my branch manager here at Fairway.
What I didn’t know then is that I was Kyle’s very first student. He taught me the business as I leaned into my vast network of grocery industry contacts which generated a lot of leads.
Kyle and I became business partners for the next several years, as I aggressively went out and got the business and Kyle patiently helped structure the deal. Back then I was trying to change my ways, but I was still really tough on the account executives and processors that I worked with.
Kyle and I had a good deal of success until we hit the crash. Suddenly we found ourselves with plenty of clients, but the inability to close any loans as values plummeted and banks were going out of business daily.
Things got so bad that I started secretly driving a taxi-cab overnight (not even Kyle knew) through the meanest streets of Phoenix. This was a life changing experience for me. I met people from all walks of life and would listen to their stories that were often times both sad and inspirational. I would intently listen and sometimes share my story of resilience with them; my career adversity and finally opening up and talking about the death of my fiancée many years earlier. I started to learn that people were generally good; most people just want someone to listen to them and treat them with respect. Whether in the wealthiest or poorest parts of the city, I truly discovered that deep-down people were basically the same.
I was in financial ruin. An opportunity arose to get back into the grocery business in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I said bye to Kyle as I moved my wife and our 11 and 16 year boys to Eastern Idaho, just across the snowy Teton Pass from Jackson Hole.
The new, more humble me became the popular local grocer. I was having more fun and success with people than I ever had before. Then one sub-zero January day a freak accident changed life once again.
My wife Shelly was in the kitchen when she walked past the sink. At that split second the homemade bottle of ginger ale that she had forgotten to pour out exploded. We later learned that once the ingredients of the bottle became warm, this concoction had fermented and turned into a bomb. It knocked her unconscious, broke her nose and a couple weeks later starting showing the signs of a traumatic brain injury.
Over the next weeks she lost all ability to walk and talk. With determination, patience and appreciation for being alive she began gradually to teach herself to walk and talk again, ignoring the doctor that told us that she would never improve.
We were isolated, alone and facing bigger hurdles than anyone could imagine. Our family unit of myself, Shelly and our sons, Dylan and Taylor built an indescribable bond as we all worked together through each challenging day. Shelly’s positivity and grace while going through this life changing event was the final push for me to totally embrace gratitude.
Kyle called to check on us often. Each time we spoke he told me that I needed to come back to Phoenix and join the successful branch that he and his new business partner (Dominick) had built. He explained that the market had changed in the time that I was away and that he had no doubt that I’d do well again.
Each and every time I resisted.
Then one day Kyle called me at the perfect time. I had come to the conclusion that I needed to get Shelly back to the familiarity and support that we had in the city that she loved. I also had come to terms that Shelly would always have challenges from her TBI and the subsequent PTSD. To be the best caregiver that I could be, I needed a career with more flexibility than the grocery business.
From that day forward we set the wheels in motion to get back down to Phoenix.
The mortgage industry had changed considerably from 2010 to 2016 so my learning curve was steep. I studied hard, passed the licensing exam and started again from scratch. I began to diligently connect with the network of people I had built relationships with over the years.
I entered the mortgage business in 2016 a completely different man than I was when I met Kyle ten years earlier. Instead of focusing on how many deals I could close and how much money I could make, I instead put the focus on how much I could help and serve others.
My attention now is on approaching each day with a grateful heart, centered on kindness and patience.
With gratitude now as the center of all aspects of my life, I have found the added benefit that everything else falls more easily into place.
Every year I share the 9/11 story of myself and my childhood best friend, Mike.
It’s an amazing story of baseball, beer and friendship.
In 2016 our story went viral by being told by Mike Rowe on his “The Way I Heard It” podcast. The episode was called “You Don’t Know Mike”.
Here is our story.
Back in 2001 I worked in the grocery business for Wild Oats Markets, overseeing stores throughout the country.
In early September of that year, I was sent to the east coast. Starting in Florida for two days, I then flew to Boston for a day before driving to visit a couple of stores in Connecticut.
On September 10, 2001 my co-worker Simon and I finished our project several hours early in Westport, CT. It was noon and we realized that we suddenly had a free afternoon and evening. We weren’t scheduled to fly back home until more than twenty-four hours later, on September 11th from La Guardia Airport in New York City. My mom texted me and said, “you should go to Yankee Stadium, Roger Clemens is pitching tonight”.
We checked out of our hotel and headed down to New York City right away.
We bought great tickets near home plate, then it started raining like crazy. The game was delayed. After an hour or so we headed into the stadium and got situated into our prime seats near the field, between home plate and first base.
We just got into our seats and right in front of us was my lifelong best-friend Mike and his wife Elena walking by. I was in disbelief, such a wild coincidence! Mike and I had been to dozens of LA Dodgers games together as we grew up in Bakersfield, California. Now here we were running into each other at Yankee Stadium.
The rain started up again and the game was cancelled. Mike and Elena didn’t have a vehicle at the game, and we didn’t have a hotel booked for the night. So they jumped into our rental car and we headed to their apartment in Hoboken, New Jersey.
We could see Manhattan and the World Trade Center perfectly from Hoboken. Energized by the sight, we came up with the idea of going to visit Mike’s office in the morning to see the amazing view on our way to the airport.
Throughout the night I called my wife, my parents and a few people that I worked with. I told each of them how unbelievable it was that we ran into Mike and Elena and that we were going to spend the night at their apartment. I also shared my idea of going into work with Mike on our way to the airport in the morning.
Mike, Simon and I went to a great little Irish Pub in Mike’s neighborhood. The Harp’s and Guinness’s started flowing. We had a lively, beer-fueled conversation as Mike and Simon hit it off really well. Mike kept saying he needed to get to bed, but we kept insisting “one more beer”.
At the bar the three of us had been having a passionate discussion about music. Both the Pixies and The Smiths place in modern music’s evolution came up and created great debate. So at the apartment we proceeded to loudly put on music from both of them and have more beer and impassioned debate.
Extremely irritated, Elena got up and told us to turn the music and our voices down now. It took her a few more visits to the living room for us to retire for the night. After 3AM we finally went to bed with the obvious agreement that we would not be getting up early to go to work with Mike. We said our goodbyes as Mike said he’d be up early for work.
When I woke up not too many hours later, I heard the shower going. Then I heard someone leave the apartment. A bit later I finally salvaged enough energy to get up. I told Simon to get off the couch and jump in the shower. I turned the TV on. I immediately saw that a tower had been hit. I opened the curtain and could see the smoke as I looked at lower Manhattan out the window.
Panicked, I assumed I had heard Mike leave earlier. But I rushed towards Mike and Elena’s bedroom and hollered for him. No response at first, so I kept hollering “Mike, are you in there?” Finally, Mike replied with an attitude that he was still in bed because he was hungover.
It was Elena that I had heard in the shower earlier. Her daily destination was the train station in the basement of the World Trade Center. She worked adjacent to the World Trade Center at One Liberty Plaza and had been alerted to the first tower being hit just prior to departing the train station in Hoboken. She turned around and headed back to the apartment. I will never forget how extreme the emotion was as she rushed in and thanked us for keeping Mike up so late.
Mike worked for the small investment banking firm Sandler O’Neill. His office was on the 104th floor of the South Tower of the World Trade Center. Mike wasn’t at his desk that morning because for the only time ever, a hangover kept him from going to work on time.
There were eighty-two of Mike’s co-workers in the office that morning. Despite the reassurance over the loud-speakers to stay put, sixteen of Mike’s co-workers took the elevator down to vacate the building after the first plane hit. The remaining sixty-six stayed and continued working.
They did not survive.
The reality of the day started to take over as the shock made way to Mike coming to the overwhelming realization, sadness and confirmation that so many friends and colleagues did not make it.
With the airports closed, Simon and I stayed with Mike & Elena for three more days. On the 12th Simon and I took the train into Manhattan to show our support for the team at our company owned store at 89th & Broadway. We visited the store and then walked the relatively empty streets of the city.
I was blown away by how kind, unified and helpful everyone was in the aftermath of this tragedy. People were solely focused on helping people. It was the best I have ever seen in humanity. The image and feeling of this unity, sincerity and goodness was life-changing for me; staying with me ever since.
Mike and I talk every year on 9/11.
Never forget 9/11/01.
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2022 feature interview and story on our hometown Bakersfield ABC news.
It was difficult to allow myself to suddenly be so vulnerable, but I knew that I had a journey that needed to be shared. A difficult journey that started with the death of my fiance 30 years ago.
My hope was that maybe a few people would find some benefit from my experiences.
It ultimately would be published by several popular publications, reaching an audience that I never would have imagined. It succeeded in resonating and offering hope to a lot people. Many have reached out to tell me how much it helped them and how well they could relate to it.
Eight years ago, my wife had a freak accident with the explosion of a homemade bottle of ginger ale in our kitchen. The blast nearly killed her. The subsequent grit and positivity she attacked her new situation with really opened my eyes to a brand new way of looking at things. The ramifications of her traumatic brain injury and the post-traumatic stress she is still saddled with has been life-changing. But instead of feeling sorry for herself, her positive attitude was a wake-up call that has enabled me to thrive in my role as her caregiver.
Gratitude and peace had been building in the years leading up to the telling of my story, as my perspective had shifted and my priorities changed to focusing my life on kindness and service.
The reaction to my story gave me the understanding that both the wreckage and the growth from my journey wasn’t something that I needed to keep buried inside of me any longer.
But four years ago I was still damaged by my struggles. I was healing, but as I look back, there still was a ways to go.
I had recently moved the family back to Arizona from our five years in Idaho. As the sole provider for the family, I was fighting hard to reestablish myself from the grocery business back into the mortgage industry as a loan officer. Being 100% commission is a difficult proposition to get re-established with, but it creates a type of urgency and pressure that I have always relished and thrived under.
Once my story was told and I continued to write, my damaged confidence began to heal and subsequently began to grow. I gained the understanding that this kinder, better version of myself was my greatest asset.
The focus shifted to being as real and raw as possible. With this new focus, I began to let go of any and all negativity and pretension.
It’s not a coincidence that with this shift, my business has substantially grown. Sure the timing of historically low interest rates has been a key driver to my recent success. But in addition to a lot of hard work, equal credit should be given to my focus on kindness and unconditional service.
By treating people as I prefer to be treated, the referrals for new business continues to expand and build.
My success both personally and professionally is a by-product of the growth of gratitude that my life has become centered on.
I no longer worry about what is ahead or dwell on the past; instead I focus on the now. This mentality has allowed for a shift to peace and calmness that I never would have imagined possible for myself.
The smallest thing used to bother me to the point of obsession.
Now I attack much larger issues with a poised focus on finding a solution, while never losing my cool or my confidence.
For many years I knew that what I have been through in life had given me a unique perspective on what truly matters, but until recently I wasn’t able to successfully channel that.
I’m grateful and blessed that I am now finally able to use this perspective as the driving, positive force for a life finally being lived to its fullest with peace, gratitude and balance.
I sat down early this peaceful morning like I do most mornings, with the intention of spending time on the book that I am focusing on finishing.
But my thoughts keep shifting to the specifics of it being June 13th, so I decided to write a short blog entry instead.
I marvel at time.
How with each year it seems to go faster and faster.
Yet in other ways it stands still.
June 13th doesn’t approach with the same dread that it used to and I don’t put as much thought into the days that are leading up to it anymore.
But it still comes every year, and it still always gives me reason to pause and reflect.
The focus typically now is on how could it possibly have been so long ago.
31 years today was the last birthday that Dana celebrated on this earth. I always think about details of that day; specifically going to dinner with her parents at our favorite Mexican restaurant.
It bothers me that much of the details fade as the years pass.
It’s odd how time allows certain memories to stay etched inside your mind as if it was yesterday, while gradually washing many other memories away. In recent years I have realized that it’s not really up to us as to which memories are able to be easily recalled.
I decided to write something today for those of you that are fresher in your grief journey.
The significant days will always stay significant. No matter how busy you are. Nor how different life now may look; my experience is that these significant dates will stop you in your tracks to pause, reflect and eventually feel some gratitude.
Some years you will want to talk about it. Other years you will not.
Either way, it won’t be just a typical day.
Cherish the thoughts.
Cherish the memories.
Honor you loved one in whichever way that you see fit.
In recent years I always try to do something for myself on days like today.
It’s a way of reminding myself that I am a survivor that has come so far and that I will continue on my journey with a grateful heart.
27 years. Half of our lives. We became the best of friends in California. Fell in love in Kentucky. Were married in Nevada. Started our married life & family in Kentucky. Established roots & raised our boys in Arizona. Times that challenged us in Idaho/Wyoming. To settle back down with a whole lot of gratitude in Arizona. 2 sons 9 different addresses 5 dogs… as well as countless ups and downs. I can’t put into words how blessed I am to always have you believing in me, supporting me, putting up with me & always being by my side. I am so grateful that I am sharing this life with you. Happy anniversary to us!
As well acquainted as I am with grief, I’ve been blessed not to lose anyone close to me too soon since I lost my fiancé, Dana, thirty years ago.
I’m an only child, and my wife Shelly has just one sibling, her older sister Dina.
After painfully struggling for a few years with rare autoimmune diseases, we lost Dina last month at 55 years old in our hometown of Bakersfield, California.
To say it’s been tough on a lot of people is a huge understatement.
Dina lived a life that was completely dedicated to helping and serving others.
Since the mid-90’s she had over 400 foster kids come through her home.
Yes, 400 fosters kids!
I was always blown away by her inability to say no. If anyone ever needed help, Dina would always be there to lend a helping hand, regardless of the inconvenience, cost or consequences.
ALWAYS.
In my entire life, I have never known anyone with a heart so open to helping on such a vast scale. To be honest, at times I shook my head as I couldn’t understand how someone could truly give in such an unconditional way.
Her amazing impact was so evident in the huge outpouring of love and support we saw rush to her side in the final days of her life.
I met countless people that had been positively touched by the grace and kindness of Dina and were completely devastated by losing her. The stories they told at times brought me to tears as well as often times bringing us all to laughter. As Dina had a unique, endearing perspective on never taking life too serious.
I also became reacquainted with several of Dina’s foster children that I had met at some point throughout the years. They were now kind and caring adults, many of them introducing us to the members of the families that they had built.
They were all universal in one thing; that their mother, Dina, was the beacon of light and hope that their lives needed at the most urgent and crucial of times.
Since many of us had traveled to Bakersfield from out of state, the memorial was held a few days after her death.
Our niece Jamie, is a funeral director at Hillcrest Memorial Park, the same cemetery where I spent so much time grieving Dana a generation ago.
Jamie, the professional funeral director, was suddenly facing the difficult task of leading the direction of her own mom’s funeral, which she did with amazing grace, poise and determination. Even with extremely short notice in these strange Covid-19 times, it was standing room only.
This being a true testament to the incredible imprint that Dina’s legacy left behind.
As so many move forward, missing Dina, I am touched in a way that I haven’t ever been touched before. Seeing and feeling first-hand what a remarkable impact Dina had on so many people who had their lives truly enriched by her unconditional acts of kindness.
As we grieve the shortness of her life, I can’t stop thinking about what a perfect example she set of a life well lived; a life lived with a clear mission and purpose that was guided by a deep understanding of what a meaningful life is truly all about.
There is so much we can all learn from this.
Dina with family (2012)Shelly, left, with Dina (2016)
8 years ago today Shelly’s life was forever changed by that freak accident in our kitchen.
We learned how fortunate we were that it didn’t take her life.
I think back to those early days where she was unable to walk or talk, and I am amazed at the progress that she has continually made to get to today.
All of the patience and hard work that she puts into improving still is so remarkable and inspiring for me to watch.
Every single day she diligently works on exercises to help her brain continue to improve.
I learn so much from how she chooses not to dwell on what she can’t do anymore, instead focusing on how blessed and grateful she is to still be here with us.
Her grace and positive attitude has enabled me to understand what truly matters.
My prayer is that the PTSD that can trigger crippling fear in her will someday no longer be an issue.
She’s so humble that she hates it when I call her my hero; but…Shelly truly is my hero 🙂
For me, milestone anniversaries always add an additional layer of reflection and perspective.
I think back to those significant, fun-filled days leading up to November 13, 1990.
We didn’t have a care in the world. The future was ours with an unlimited amount of potential and happiness ahead.
We often talked about how blessed we were to have the next 60 years together.
I suppose we’d say 60 years because it was a good, big round number and it would put us into our 80’s together.
We couldn’t imagine anything else.
When Dana died, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I had to now live 60 years without her. It seemed like an impossible task that I could in no way accomplish.
The local newspaper hounded me after her death.
I gave the reporter one quote and told him not to contact me again.
I said, “How do you put into words the loss of the person that you planned to spend the next 60 years with?”
30 years.
That number has loomed large in 2020; as it signifies to me that I am now halfway through the journey.
I am a survivor.
It’s been a journey that’s ebbed and flowed with many tests, trials and tribulations.
I am incredibly blessed to have an amazing life with Shelly. She was there and understands what I’ve been through. This has built such a unique foundation for a beautiful, wonderful life.
Once I found the strength to use gratitude as the driver to enable me to understand that I’ve been blessed rather than cursed, my journey has finally become filled with purpose.
From very early in my grief journey I told myself that I needed to be the person that Dana would be proud of. I needed to live my life with her sunny disposition and legacy in mind.
I have always known that this is what I needed to do.
But for years I couldn’t find the ability to do that, as anger and self-pity consumed me. This added a layer of guilt, as I knew that I wasn’t anywhere near the person that I needed to be.
I still have plenty of self-improvement work to do, but these next 30 years will be driven by a positive purpose to be of service.
Once I started telling my story and sharing my experiences, I realized that I will be that person whose resilient perspective I needed to hear 30 years ago.
30 years.
As I enter November, I find myself with a feeling of triumph.
Triumph that I have finally become that person that Dana would be proud of.
