The Change Starts With Me
It started out as a simple Sunday afternoon trip to one of my favorite restaurants, Cracker Barrel. Every Sunday the special is one of my favorites, Homestyle Chicken, and whether I eat in or take out I always look forward to when I get a chance to stop in there. It had been a particularly good morning getting up and going to church, hearing a good lesson and seeing smiling faces. On this particularly pretty day it seemed like one of those “Mayberry” types of days where a good meal could be followed by a nice afternoon of watching football or taking a nice walk around the park.
But it wasn’t....in fact something happened that day and again later in the week that are perfect examples of what is wrong with our society. And that my friends, is what I want to write about today. I know I am not the first, and pretty sure not the last to make these observations, but for now you are stuck with my column.
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So let’s rewind backwards to last Sunday and start there. I had pulled into the parking lot of Cracker Barrel and as most of you probably already know finding a parking space there at lunch time is its own test of will and patience. Luckily for me I had waited till a little after 1 PM so the crowd had thinned out a little and there were a couple of parking spots open. I pulled to the parking spot that had just come open right “on the front row” and was getting ready to pull in when I noticed an elderly gentleman and his wife coming my direction looking for that same spot. Now my immediate reaction was “first-come, first serve”....but something inside of me kicked in (I can always hear my conscience I just sometimes deny it) and made me drive to the 3rd row where I pulled into the open spot there. I padded my ego by telling myself that not only did I do the right thing, but that I am sure I would get brownie points at my next Dr’s visit by telling him I walked that extra 20 or 30 feet.
Climbing out of my truck I smiled as I passed by the elderly gentleman who smiled back at me as he helped his wife out of the car. Stopping to let a car go by, I then walked up to the door, turned around to see if anyone was behind me, and noticed the elderly couple slowly but surely making their way to the door. Knowing that I wasn’t in any hurry that afternoon, I stood there waiting and holding the door open. I was feeling particularly good about myself at that time (thinking I’m building up some good karma today) when out of the corner of my vision came a young couple scurrying in just ahead of gentleman friend and his wife. Now, the kind person in me wanted to believe they were just in a hurry to get inside because they were late for meeting someone. At the very least I think I should have heard a “thank you” as they whisked by me....but not a peep from either of them. And the remarks I heard them say while waiting for the Hostess to seat them didn’t make soothe my anger at their behavior.
So let’s fast forward to Wednesday around lunchtime. I decided to take a walk from the office to grab a fast food lunch at the downtown Mall. While waiting in line at the Chick-Fil-A, a man in an “Arrest Bush” t-shirt decided to walk to the counter and engage the Manager on duty about the recent Chick-Fil-A controversy. Never mind those of us who were in line either to be waited on or served our food, his moment to engage the Manager was more important. To the Managers credit he politely answered him, went about directing his staff and the rude gentleman went on his merry way. Now, I am all for everyone’s right to express their beliefs in the proper place and time, but not while you are affecting others ungraciously. (Just for arguments sake...had he stood in line like the rest of us, I might not have been so irritated. But I guess he felt he didn’t have to)
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I’m not sure whether it’s just this season of nasty politics or the normal lack of personal decorum lately that has me more irritated, but it seems we are a generation lost in a lack of pure decency. Everywhere you look these days we find behavior that should be considered intolerable. What happened to the idea of treating people with respect and dignity? Or acting like civility and humility are characteristics of good people? What happened to the idea we can have a good discussion or debates without resorting to character assassination?
You can’t walk around the block, visit your favorite web page or even try buying a meal at a fast food restaurant these days without being bombarded with what I label “guerilla warfare politics”. Hit fast, hit hard and assess the damage later. Don’t agree with someone? Throw a label on them and you’ve “won”! In our present generation it seems the more outrageous the behavior the more we look the other way or just rationalize it.
It’s not a moral compass we need to find....its just plain and simple human decency! I’m tired of hearing people use the phrase “we need to find our better angels”, when in fact all we need to do is remember who the better person is inside all of us.
And before any of you rightfully point it out to me, I’m just as guilty as the next person. But for some reason it’s started bothering me more because as a parent I think we have taught all the wrong values to the next generation.
So....how do we fix this trend? How do we change what has become “acceptable” behavior and get back to setting the example for others by practicing kindness and humility. Now for those who have already snickered and thought to yourselves, “what a Pollyanna”....I don’t disagree. We didn’t get this way overnight and there’s no way that we get back to truly acceptable behavior overnight.
I think first we start with ourselves and then look no further. Ask yourself, “What am I tolerating now that shouldn’t be considered acceptable”? Do you smile and laugh when an inappropriate comment is made about an overweight person, a person with special needs, or someone whose situation is less fortunate that yours? Do you feel so sure that you are completely right about something that you refuse to see the possibility that someone else has a perfectly acceptable contrasting opinion? Do you feel like the only way to “win” is by resorting name-calling and labeling?
Nothing has turned me off more this year than our coveted political process. By nature political elections are a contrast in ideas and values and will always bring about some discourse. But it seems these days the election is less about who has the better direction for America and more about who has the best campaign strategy to denigrate your opponent. As a still undecided voter I can honestly say the personal attacks on both sides of the table are not making me any more comfortable that either candidate is the right person. And even more honestly, it’s not just the campaign strategists who seemed to have taken a leap off the cliff of sanity, it’s “we the people”. I’d actually just once like to visit my Facebook page without having to wade thru the endless barrage of posts telling me a somewhat slanted version of “the truth”.....or to see someone’s innocent post asking a harmless but honest question turn into a litany of put-downs by both sides of the ledger. I’d like to see less of my radio and television airwaves being littered with commentary from both sides of the argument that have more to do with put-downs than facts.
But it’s not just the political bickering that needs a change. It’s the 2 recent events in my life that made me stop and think...”just what is wrong with us?” I’d like to think that more people are like me now wondering what happened to the kinder, gentler person in all of us. Determination and hard work are highly important traits in all, but is it really necessary to climb over the backs of others to get there? Isn’t there enough room for us all to enjoy a decent life without having to make others feel less of themselves so we can feel better about ourselves?
There are way too many real struggles in life we face as human beings. Let’s find a way to keep kindness and civility from becoming a struggle, and more a normal way of behaving.
And maybe...just maybe.... by being just a little more human we will find the answers to some of the other issues that are truly more important.
And for me, I think I’ll try to remember to practice tomorrow what I am preaching today. The change starts with me.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Surrounded by Memories….
Part 1
“For some reason my memories of our small town don’t seem anything like what you recall or what you write about…”
“I love what you write about our small little town…when time allows, I read your stories and they make me smile about a time that was good to me”
Two simple messages….and each a complete opposite of the other. The above are messages that I received from old friends from the town I grew up in expressing how they felt when they read my stories.
I don’t expect that everyone will see or remember the town of Mosby the way that I did. For some it was a town that trapped their dreams and hid them from fruition, and for others it was an oasis.
While I was growing up it seemed so much like the former…..and now that I have grown older (and hopefully a little wiser) I realize it truly was the latter for me.
**********************************************
It was a hot summer day, the kind that drove all of us kids to eventually find the local creek or pond to swim. Back then we never thought of what was in the water, we were just glad to have a place to cool off.
When you were young and wanted to earn money there were only a few ways to get it…..have a paper route, mow yards, work in the cornfields, babysit, or go searching for pop bottles to take to Bill Due’s Bait and Tackle for a nickel a bottle. For me, I had the Daily Standard paper route that was my main source of income but occasionally I would fill in for my brother who, along with my friend Bobby would do most of the mowing in town.
On this particular day I had agreed to fill in for both Bobby and my older brother who were out of town for the week for differing reasons. This was the week I waited for during the summer because it meant a cash windfall for me, and I was already planning on marching into Bill Due’s shop to make my big purchases whether it was baseball cards, banana bike candy, Cherry Mash candy bars, or a new fishing lure to add to my newly acquired tackle box I had gotten for my birthday. I didn’t know it at the time, but that day would give me something more than money could buy, and would teach me a valuable lesson that I wouldn’t understand better till the most recent years of my life.
I got up early that morning, deciding I was going to try and get my mowing done early enough I could get an afternoon swim in the local Fishing River before having to come home and start my afternoon paper route. I grabbed my bicycle and the metal gas can and headed off to George Cox’s Garage and Filling Station to spend my .25 to get a gallon of gas. (Back then we thought that was highway robbery….little did we know)
I pulled up to the station and something was odd….the garage doors at George’s station normally were wide open, but on this day, they were still closed. I walked over to the regular door and noticed a handwritten sign that read “ I will be running late on Wednesday and the station will not open until 10 AM”. Well, so much for getting my mowing done early that day. Rather than ride back home and have to come back in another 30 minutes I decided I would walk my bike over to Bill Due’s store to sit and chat with him while further pondering what would be my purchases with the extra money I was earning that week.
Walking around Bill’s store was always fun…..you would go from the Candy/Soda/limited groceries at the front of the store to the back section which held all the fishing supplies. I had focused of course on the pop and candy when Bill made the comment that if really wanted to get the most out of my money, I should buy something that would give me more than just fleeting pleasure. For Bill that was a profound statement….rarely did he say much of higher nature as Bill was pretty much a down-to-earth type of guy with all us kids. I didn’t really think much about it at the time, but his words would be a harbinger of what that day would bring me.
I left his shop and walked my bike back over to George Cox’s station, which was open by that time. George came out from the back of his garage where he was working on a car from one of his customers in town. While George was pumping the gas into the can I regaled him with all my plans for the day and what I planned to do with my money. After filling up my can George looked up with a smile….I handed him my quarter and he said to me….”you make sure that you keep cool today, it’s going to get hot”.
Smiling back and acknowledging what he said, I took off and headed home. Once home I hopped off my bike and grabbed my lawnmower and started walking to begin my day of mowing. My first 2 yards were smaller and easy to complete without breaking much of a sweat. Both were well-shaded so the sun wasn’t beating down on me and sapping my strength yet. Between each I would stop and get a drink of water from my customer, sit and chat with them a little, then move on knowing I wanted to get my work done so I could go swimming.
I was at my last yard and it was 1:30 in the afternoon already. I had gotten so busy that I had forgotten to stop and eat my jelly sandwich I had fixed for lunch and brought along with me. So I pulled my mower up to Georgie George’s house, put it in the shade of the tree in her front yard and started to walk over and sit under the big tree in front of the church. As I started to walk thru the gate I heard a familiar voice and turned to see Mrs. George calling out to me. She asked me where I was going and when I explained she said to me…”why don’t you come on in here, eat your sandwich and cool down before you start my yard. You look like you need to get out of the sun a little while or you’re going to get burnt.” I hesitated at first, and then when she repeated her request I changed my mind and went into her house.
For some reason that day there seemed to be something different about her house as I walked in. I had been the paperboy for our small little town for several years and had been inside her house many times. During the winter she would always leave the door unlocked so I could bring the paper into her, just like I would with all my customers who allowed me to. But today…it seemed so different, from the arrangement of the living room, to the smell of her home. I looked around and hesitated, almost as if I was paralyzed because things had changed. I’m pretty sure that she sensed that I was a bit startled; as I’m sure the look on my face told the story. She looked back and said “come on in here to the kitchen table and I’ll fix you a glass of lemonade and some Ritz crackers to go along with that sandwich you have there.”
I walked thru the living room and into her kitchen, looking around at how some things had changed and how clean and neat everything was. Not that her home wasn’t that way normally, but for some reason today everything seemed a bit polished and new. As I sat at her table and took my sandwich out of the baggie she said…
“So you noticed I’ve been doing a little cleaning and re-arranging today Mark?”
“Yes Ma’am”, I answered.
She said... “Well it seemed like a good day to clean, and since it was so hot outside that made it even a better reason”. As she walked over with a plate of Ritz crackers covered with peanut butter and a glass of lemonade I spotted a box in the corner of the room. Inside were some items I had recognized that had filled her cabinets and shelves before.
Being ever the inquisitive young man I asked, “whatcha gonna do with all those things?”
She replied… “I’m going to put those up in storage with all my other memories”
“But won’t you forget about them if you put them in storage?” I asked.
“Oh, I won’t forget about them” she replied. “I just think it’s time to put those in with the other great memories I’ve kept and let them talk to each other. Right now about all they are doing is getting dusty on my shelves and I don’t seem to have the time or strength to clean them as well as I should”
I was completely puzzled by what she had just said, and once again I was pretty sure my face belied my state because she had a bit of a smile on her face. She walked over and grabbed a small memento from the box and walked back over. It was a small piece of wood that had a picture of Mount Rushmore on the front that had been lacquered over. To a teenager it would just have seemed like another of those useless items that adults picked up while on vacation that we could never figure out. We wouldn’t have touched one, much less spent our money on it. But to her…it held memories and not just of Mount Rushmore.
For the next few minutes she would regale me of the memories of that trip. And while she talked about all the little details that were coming back to her, I could see a small glimmer in her eye. It was like she was transported back some 20 or 30 years before and I was being offered the honor of sitting in the back seat of her memory as she relived it with a smile. After she finished that memory she walked back over to the box and picked up yet another item and imparted the memories that it brought to her.
For the next hour I sat there completely engaged in her stories as she took each item out and told me the significance of it and what memory returned. Some of her memories were a bit wistful but most were accompanied by a smile and a look in her eye that told me they were precious.
The bell of the clock brought me back to reality as it chimed 3 times and reminded me that it was now 3PM and that I needed to finish her lawn quickly so I could get back home so that I could start my paper route when the papers arrived at 4 PM. As I excused myself and took my plate to the sink I told her I needed to hurry and finish her lawn so I could make sure and get my paper route started on time. She said….”It’s not going to hurt my lawn to wait one more day. Why don’t you come back here tomorrow morning and mow then? I know all you boys like to go swimming over there on the creek bank about this time each day.”
I smiled and thanked her….and headed off home to grab my shorts hoping to catch about 20 or 30 minutes of swimming. But when I arrived home I was a bit surprised to find that the papers had actually arrived a little early. I was a little disappointed but knew that my obligations to my customers came first so I sat down to fold the papers and put rubber bands around them.
Oddly enough as I delivered my papers to each of my customers I couldn’t seem to get my mind off the conversation I had earlier in the day while sitting with Mrs. George. I was thinking about the memories I already had in growing up in Mosby and would I look back as fondly as she did on her memories. I was pretty sure at that age I wanted to escape this small town and never look back and that the only good memories would be the ones that I would make once I escaped.
Little did I know how wrong I would be…..
Part 1
“For some reason my memories of our small town don’t seem anything like what you recall or what you write about…”
“I love what you write about our small little town…when time allows, I read your stories and they make me smile about a time that was good to me”
Two simple messages….and each a complete opposite of the other. The above are messages that I received from old friends from the town I grew up in expressing how they felt when they read my stories.
I don’t expect that everyone will see or remember the town of Mosby the way that I did. For some it was a town that trapped their dreams and hid them from fruition, and for others it was an oasis.
While I was growing up it seemed so much like the former…..and now that I have grown older (and hopefully a little wiser) I realize it truly was the latter for me.
**********************************************
It was a hot summer day, the kind that drove all of us kids to eventually find the local creek or pond to swim. Back then we never thought of what was in the water, we were just glad to have a place to cool off.
When you were young and wanted to earn money there were only a few ways to get it…..have a paper route, mow yards, work in the cornfields, babysit, or go searching for pop bottles to take to Bill Due’s Bait and Tackle for a nickel a bottle. For me, I had the Daily Standard paper route that was my main source of income but occasionally I would fill in for my brother who, along with my friend Bobby would do most of the mowing in town.
On this particular day I had agreed to fill in for both Bobby and my older brother who were out of town for the week for differing reasons. This was the week I waited for during the summer because it meant a cash windfall for me, and I was already planning on marching into Bill Due’s shop to make my big purchases whether it was baseball cards, banana bike candy, Cherry Mash candy bars, or a new fishing lure to add to my newly acquired tackle box I had gotten for my birthday. I didn’t know it at the time, but that day would give me something more than money could buy, and would teach me a valuable lesson that I wouldn’t understand better till the most recent years of my life.
I got up early that morning, deciding I was going to try and get my mowing done early enough I could get an afternoon swim in the local Fishing River before having to come home and start my afternoon paper route. I grabbed my bicycle and the metal gas can and headed off to George Cox’s Garage and Filling Station to spend my .25 to get a gallon of gas. (Back then we thought that was highway robbery….little did we know)
I pulled up to the station and something was odd….the garage doors at George’s station normally were wide open, but on this day, they were still closed. I walked over to the regular door and noticed a handwritten sign that read “ I will be running late on Wednesday and the station will not open until 10 AM”. Well, so much for getting my mowing done early that day. Rather than ride back home and have to come back in another 30 minutes I decided I would walk my bike over to Bill Due’s store to sit and chat with him while further pondering what would be my purchases with the extra money I was earning that week.
Walking around Bill’s store was always fun…..you would go from the Candy/Soda/limited groceries at the front of the store to the back section which held all the fishing supplies. I had focused of course on the pop and candy when Bill made the comment that if really wanted to get the most out of my money, I should buy something that would give me more than just fleeting pleasure. For Bill that was a profound statement….rarely did he say much of higher nature as Bill was pretty much a down-to-earth type of guy with all us kids. I didn’t really think much about it at the time, but his words would be a harbinger of what that day would bring me.
I left his shop and walked my bike back over to George Cox’s station, which was open by that time. George came out from the back of his garage where he was working on a car from one of his customers in town. While George was pumping the gas into the can I regaled him with all my plans for the day and what I planned to do with my money. After filling up my can George looked up with a smile….I handed him my quarter and he said to me….”you make sure that you keep cool today, it’s going to get hot”.
Smiling back and acknowledging what he said, I took off and headed home. Once home I hopped off my bike and grabbed my lawnmower and started walking to begin my day of mowing. My first 2 yards were smaller and easy to complete without breaking much of a sweat. Both were well-shaded so the sun wasn’t beating down on me and sapping my strength yet. Between each I would stop and get a drink of water from my customer, sit and chat with them a little, then move on knowing I wanted to get my work done so I could go swimming.
I was at my last yard and it was 1:30 in the afternoon already. I had gotten so busy that I had forgotten to stop and eat my jelly sandwich I had fixed for lunch and brought along with me. So I pulled my mower up to Georgie George’s house, put it in the shade of the tree in her front yard and started to walk over and sit under the big tree in front of the church. As I started to walk thru the gate I heard a familiar voice and turned to see Mrs. George calling out to me. She asked me where I was going and when I explained she said to me…”why don’t you come on in here, eat your sandwich and cool down before you start my yard. You look like you need to get out of the sun a little while or you’re going to get burnt.” I hesitated at first, and then when she repeated her request I changed my mind and went into her house.
For some reason that day there seemed to be something different about her house as I walked in. I had been the paperboy for our small little town for several years and had been inside her house many times. During the winter she would always leave the door unlocked so I could bring the paper into her, just like I would with all my customers who allowed me to. But today…it seemed so different, from the arrangement of the living room, to the smell of her home. I looked around and hesitated, almost as if I was paralyzed because things had changed. I’m pretty sure that she sensed that I was a bit startled; as I’m sure the look on my face told the story. She looked back and said “come on in here to the kitchen table and I’ll fix you a glass of lemonade and some Ritz crackers to go along with that sandwich you have there.”
I walked thru the living room and into her kitchen, looking around at how some things had changed and how clean and neat everything was. Not that her home wasn’t that way normally, but for some reason today everything seemed a bit polished and new. As I sat at her table and took my sandwich out of the baggie she said…
“So you noticed I’ve been doing a little cleaning and re-arranging today Mark?”
“Yes Ma’am”, I answered.
She said... “Well it seemed like a good day to clean, and since it was so hot outside that made it even a better reason”. As she walked over with a plate of Ritz crackers covered with peanut butter and a glass of lemonade I spotted a box in the corner of the room. Inside were some items I had recognized that had filled her cabinets and shelves before.
Being ever the inquisitive young man I asked, “whatcha gonna do with all those things?”
She replied… “I’m going to put those up in storage with all my other memories”
“But won’t you forget about them if you put them in storage?” I asked.
“Oh, I won’t forget about them” she replied. “I just think it’s time to put those in with the other great memories I’ve kept and let them talk to each other. Right now about all they are doing is getting dusty on my shelves and I don’t seem to have the time or strength to clean them as well as I should”
I was completely puzzled by what she had just said, and once again I was pretty sure my face belied my state because she had a bit of a smile on her face. She walked over and grabbed a small memento from the box and walked back over. It was a small piece of wood that had a picture of Mount Rushmore on the front that had been lacquered over. To a teenager it would just have seemed like another of those useless items that adults picked up while on vacation that we could never figure out. We wouldn’t have touched one, much less spent our money on it. But to her…it held memories and not just of Mount Rushmore.
For the next few minutes she would regale me of the memories of that trip. And while she talked about all the little details that were coming back to her, I could see a small glimmer in her eye. It was like she was transported back some 20 or 30 years before and I was being offered the honor of sitting in the back seat of her memory as she relived it with a smile. After she finished that memory she walked back over to the box and picked up yet another item and imparted the memories that it brought to her.
For the next hour I sat there completely engaged in her stories as she took each item out and told me the significance of it and what memory returned. Some of her memories were a bit wistful but most were accompanied by a smile and a look in her eye that told me they were precious.
The bell of the clock brought me back to reality as it chimed 3 times and reminded me that it was now 3PM and that I needed to finish her lawn quickly so I could get back home so that I could start my paper route when the papers arrived at 4 PM. As I excused myself and took my plate to the sink I told her I needed to hurry and finish her lawn so I could make sure and get my paper route started on time. She said….”It’s not going to hurt my lawn to wait one more day. Why don’t you come back here tomorrow morning and mow then? I know all you boys like to go swimming over there on the creek bank about this time each day.”
I smiled and thanked her….and headed off home to grab my shorts hoping to catch about 20 or 30 minutes of swimming. But when I arrived home I was a bit surprised to find that the papers had actually arrived a little early. I was a little disappointed but knew that my obligations to my customers came first so I sat down to fold the papers and put rubber bands around them.
Oddly enough as I delivered my papers to each of my customers I couldn’t seem to get my mind off the conversation I had earlier in the day while sitting with Mrs. George. I was thinking about the memories I already had in growing up in Mosby and would I look back as fondly as she did on her memories. I was pretty sure at that age I wanted to escape this small town and never look back and that the only good memories would be the ones that I would make once I escaped.
Little did I know how wrong I would be…..
Monday, January 16, 2012
Sweet 16..And Where Did The Time Go?
It’s 5 AM in the morning on January 16th 1996 and my wife is trying to wake me up telling me.....”Mark, you need to get up and take me to the hospital…..I think it’s not a false alarm this time.” I’d heard those words several times in the prior 2 weeks and each time it would be a false alarm and we would head back home. But not this time…..you see, my unborn daughter decided that after a couple of weeks of playing tricks on her Mom and Dad she would try to sneak into the world when we least expected it. Still a little groggy and probably wary of my unborn daughters’ precocious nature over the prior couple of weeks, I took my time getting ready. Driving to the hospital my very pregnant and in pain wife was urging me to “speed it up unless I wanted to deliver my daughter myself”. (Knowing my weakness for seeing blood and fear of anything medical my wife was using her best warfare to stress to me her condition)
I got my wife to the hospital, got her checked in and to her birthing room. And after a few hours of on-again, off-again labor pains, my lovely little girl came into the world early that afternoon. And since then, my world has never been the same.
Where did time go?
I sit here on the eve of my daughters 16th birthday, what is a special time in a teen's life. They go from being just a regular teenager to being able to get a permit to drive and suddenly becoming mobile. Instead of coming into my study or going downstairs to ask Mom to drive her, now I am sure I will hear…..” Mom/Dad can I borrow the car keys……. (insert best friends name here) wants me to meet her at (insert favorite place to hang out).”
For most of you who read this, you have probably already experienced this, and come out of the other side of the tunnel unscathed and breathing a sigh of relief. You will tell me that everything will be OK because we have taught her all the good values, judgment skills, and life lessons that will help her as she moves into the next stage of her young life. So….why do I feel a small sense of loss?
I should be happy….smiling that my little girl is now a beautiful young lady. Luckily for me she inherited her mother’s beauty, common sense and passion to help others first. From me…well she got her sense of adventure and thirst for continued knowledge. (That sense of adventure is what keeps me up at night sometimes).
But for me, I start to realize that there is no turning the clock back anymore. Suddenly the little girl who cuddled up next to her daddy while we watched Disney movies, the Disney Channel, or the Christmas movies has now become so much more. She no longer needs me to carry her upstairs to her room because she has fallen asleep…or come sit by her bedside and talk to her a little while before she tried to go to sleep. Now…all she needs from me is a hug, a kiss on the cheek and to turn off her light as I leave the room. (What was I thinking those nights when I just wanted her to stop asking so many questions and go to sleep so I could do the same? What I wouldn’t give to have a few of those moments back)
I know we can’t keep our sons or daughters young forever, any differently than our parents could keep us from growing and changing either. But that doesn’t make it any easier to have to acknowledge another stage in the growth of my daughters’ life. It’s bad enough that I had to come to grips with boyfriends and dating, now I have to worry about driving and boys and dating.
So…what does that leave me to do? Well, like the rest of you have already discovered, all we can do is love them, hope for the best, and love them some more.
But you see….I still have a million memories and they flood my mind every day. I remember the little girl who loved dressing up as Cinderella and going to Disney World with her daddy in tow looking for the next Disney Princess to have her picture taken with and to get her autograph.
I remember a Valentine’s Day Daddy/Daughter Dance that ended with Daddy having to carry her from the truck to the house because she had so much fun she fell asleep on the way home. But not before telling me she had so much fun….and just before nodding off, saying “Daddy, I love you”.
I remember a very little girl jumping up on stage and doing an impromptu dance because she thought no one was watching. And I remember watching as a young lady left the house headed to her very first formal dance.
All these stages I remember and each one makes me smile….and each one brings a tear to my eyes.
So, for you Emily……may the beginning of this new time in your life be as rewarding as it was for me when I was your age. You will have so many questions and so many new experiences. And each will be another step to growing into the young woman your mother and I hope you will become.
I leave you with this one quote from my favorite author and one that you have heard many times, but takes on a special meaning as you grow up:
"Dance like nobody's watching; love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening; live like it's heaven on earth."- Mark Twain
Happy 16th birthday Emily!!!
With Love,
Dad
I got my wife to the hospital, got her checked in and to her birthing room. And after a few hours of on-again, off-again labor pains, my lovely little girl came into the world early that afternoon. And since then, my world has never been the same.
Where did time go?
I sit here on the eve of my daughters 16th birthday, what is a special time in a teen's life. They go from being just a regular teenager to being able to get a permit to drive and suddenly becoming mobile. Instead of coming into my study or going downstairs to ask Mom to drive her, now I am sure I will hear…..” Mom/Dad can I borrow the car keys……. (insert best friends name here) wants me to meet her at (insert favorite place to hang out).”
For most of you who read this, you have probably already experienced this, and come out of the other side of the tunnel unscathed and breathing a sigh of relief. You will tell me that everything will be OK because we have taught her all the good values, judgment skills, and life lessons that will help her as she moves into the next stage of her young life. So….why do I feel a small sense of loss?
I should be happy….smiling that my little girl is now a beautiful young lady. Luckily for me she inherited her mother’s beauty, common sense and passion to help others first. From me…well she got her sense of adventure and thirst for continued knowledge. (That sense of adventure is what keeps me up at night sometimes).
But for me, I start to realize that there is no turning the clock back anymore. Suddenly the little girl who cuddled up next to her daddy while we watched Disney movies, the Disney Channel, or the Christmas movies has now become so much more. She no longer needs me to carry her upstairs to her room because she has fallen asleep…or come sit by her bedside and talk to her a little while before she tried to go to sleep. Now…all she needs from me is a hug, a kiss on the cheek and to turn off her light as I leave the room. (What was I thinking those nights when I just wanted her to stop asking so many questions and go to sleep so I could do the same? What I wouldn’t give to have a few of those moments back)
I know we can’t keep our sons or daughters young forever, any differently than our parents could keep us from growing and changing either. But that doesn’t make it any easier to have to acknowledge another stage in the growth of my daughters’ life. It’s bad enough that I had to come to grips with boyfriends and dating, now I have to worry about driving and boys and dating.
So…what does that leave me to do? Well, like the rest of you have already discovered, all we can do is love them, hope for the best, and love them some more.
But you see….I still have a million memories and they flood my mind every day. I remember the little girl who loved dressing up as Cinderella and going to Disney World with her daddy in tow looking for the next Disney Princess to have her picture taken with and to get her autograph.
I remember a Valentine’s Day Daddy/Daughter Dance that ended with Daddy having to carry her from the truck to the house because she had so much fun she fell asleep on the way home. But not before telling me she had so much fun….and just before nodding off, saying “Daddy, I love you”.
I remember a very little girl jumping up on stage and doing an impromptu dance because she thought no one was watching. And I remember watching as a young lady left the house headed to her very first formal dance.
All these stages I remember and each one makes me smile….and each one brings a tear to my eyes.
So, for you Emily……may the beginning of this new time in your life be as rewarding as it was for me when I was your age. You will have so many questions and so many new experiences. And each will be another step to growing into the young woman your mother and I hope you will become.
I leave you with this one quote from my favorite author and one that you have heard many times, but takes on a special meaning as you grow up:
"Dance like nobody's watching; love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening; live like it's heaven on earth."- Mark Twain
Happy 16th birthday Emily!!!
With Love,
Dad
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