"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear." Mark Twain
"I was seldom able to see an opportunity until it had ceased to be one." Mark Twain
"You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus." Mark Twain
This morning I woke up to a different sort of Black Friday than the one that many others did. For me it was Black Friday because I had stayed up far later than common sense dictated I should even though I had deadlines to hit. Not deadline, but deadlines. I suppose that ultiple projects all coming due at the same time could be seen as poor planning or a quirk of fate.
And I suppose that one could argue that it was a lack of discretion that led to my enjoying good Scotch and good company far longer than I should have. But the benefit of experience and awareness is such that I knew that I could find a way to get it all done. Knew that sometimes I work better under pressure.
So when I woke up in desperate need of coffee and some uninterrupted time at the computer I didn't panic or stress out. I simply sat down and prepared to give these projects a shot of shock and awe. There was only one kink in my plan, one detail that I hadn't considered.
Or maybe I should rephrase that and say that the kink is 75 pounds of boy, not just any boy, but my first born. He came to me early on and asked if we could have some time to hang out. From business/planning perspective I should have quietly told him no. Should have explained that I couldn't give up that time because it would require me to be up far too late making up the hours I lost.
It would be a lie to say that I didn't consider telling him that we couldn't do it. I did. I thought about it. I didn't want to be stuck burning the midnight oil to get it all done. But sometimes you need to make like Tom Cruise in Risky Business and say "What The Fuck." Sometimes you need to adjust your priorities and today was one of those days.
So we made a deal that I would work through the morning and hit the movies to see Megamind and I couldn't be happier. The two of us of had a great time together. It didn't hurt that I enjoyed the movie either. Afterwards in spite of my promise not to hit any retailer today we made quick trips to Target and Costco.
He wasn't thrilled about it and wanted to know why I chose to do it. So I explained that I want to buy a new camera and that being a smart shopper involved a little legwork. I pointed out that we wanted to compare prices and packages. He nodded his head and I could see the wheels spinning.
Now several hours later I am working hard to tie up some loose ends and meet the deadlines that are fast approaching. I am tired and ready for bed, but I wouldn't change today. The look in his eyes and the smile on his face were well worth it.
He'll remember this day and know that dad made time for him. It is important because there will be a time where I can't get away so today will be a good reminder but that is not why I did it. It wasn't to gain favor for a future moment. It was because we don't know what the future holds. Things can change overnight so it made sense to take advantage of the moment and we did.
Showing posts with label Father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father. Show all posts
I Call Him Dad
I call him dad and today marks the six year anniversary of his triple bypass. This past April marked six years since he suffered a major heart attack and spent six months in a hospital. It was an experience that had a major impact upon my life and in many ways is really the reason that this blog exists.
It is true that I started writing it on a whim, but I quickly found that it was a safe place to write about my thoughts, ideas and fears. It was my cyberspace refuge and one that I quickly learned to love. Now I look back at posts that I wrote then and am taken back to those moments. In some cases the writing is just awful but that is ok.
My abba
More on dad
My dad
My father- The saga continues
They say that hindsight is 20-20 and in many ways I suppose that it is true. When I look back at some of the posts I shake my head and wonder about how and I why I reacted the ways that I did. Some of that is unfair. I can't expect that the 35 year-old to respond as the 41 year-old one would. All the responsibilities and life experiences from then made me a tougher, harder man.
Some of that is good. Life can be very rough and there is no exaggeration in saying that it can and will beat you down. The moments of doubt and fear forced me to grow. Standing next to my father's unconscious body, watching a ventilator keep him alive helped to provide perspective.
It reminded me that fathers love their daddies too. It made my dad human. That probably sounds a little bit funny coming from an adult, but it is true. Until then I hadn't realized that I thought of dad as being invulnerable and invincible. The man who at times made me crazy at times had been given some super powers by his oldest son.
I remembered when a couple of marines started arguing with my mother. We were near Camp Pendleton on a family trip. I must have been about seven or eight. They thought that mom had opened the car door into their car and were giving her a hard time. They didn't notice my father loading the bags into the old station wagon.
But I remember how quickly they got into their car when they did.I remember how one moment he was at the back of the car and the next he was standing between our car and theirs. I remember the look on his face and knowing that he was angry. I don't have to close my eyes to see that look or remember his clenched fist.
They left before we did. I can't tell you exactly what they said to each other, although I did hear quite a bit. But I can tell you that it is one of those moments that helped me understand that a father's job description includes protecting his family.
It isn't the only time that I saw my father go to bat for us. There are lots of different examples not all of which involve conflict or confrontation. I didn't recognize some of them for what they were until I became a father. Didn't understand or appreciate a lot of things, but sometimes that is how it goes.
There are a lot of stories to be written and told about dad. I am guessing that until I turned 25 or so he was probably still physically stronger than I was. It is kind of a silly thing, but as a rite of passage I had always planned on winning a wrestling match. I never did.
Not because he always beat me but because that match never did materialize. You can blame my mother for that. She is the one who asked me not to challenge him, explained that he wasn't ready to let his son win. It was hard to accept. I waited for years to be big enough to take him on.
Worked out extra hard at the gym too. The men in the family tend to have broad shoulders and a lot of natural strength. I was convinced that without throwing the weights around I wouldn't stand a chance. So it was hard to let mom convince me not to throw down the gauntlet.
But I understand it differently now. I can't imagine the day when my son will be capable of beating me. Call it ego but I just can't and I don't want it to happen. So I can appreciate this now and understand that it was better for us. I am ok with it.
Seeing dad on that machine was awful, a memory that haunted me for a while. Listening to the beeps and whistles and general click clack that kept him alive scared me a bit.
But like I said, he beat the odds and now six years later I am still incredibly thankful to have my father. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. Not just because we still have him but because I can say that we have developed quite a relationship. It is still father and son, but there is a sort of friend aspect to it.
Took decades to get to this point, but I have finally lived long enough and experienced enough that I can sit with him and talk about things with a real understanding. So dad, if you ever read this let me say thank you for everything. I am still learning from you and I appreciate all that you have done.
With a lot of love,
Your son
It is true that I started writing it on a whim, but I quickly found that it was a safe place to write about my thoughts, ideas and fears. It was my cyberspace refuge and one that I quickly learned to love. Now I look back at posts that I wrote then and am taken back to those moments. In some cases the writing is just awful but that is ok.
My abba
More on dad
My dad
My father- The saga continues
They say that hindsight is 20-20 and in many ways I suppose that it is true. When I look back at some of the posts I shake my head and wonder about how and I why I reacted the ways that I did. Some of that is unfair. I can't expect that the 35 year-old to respond as the 41 year-old one would. All the responsibilities and life experiences from then made me a tougher, harder man.
Some of that is good. Life can be very rough and there is no exaggeration in saying that it can and will beat you down. The moments of doubt and fear forced me to grow. Standing next to my father's unconscious body, watching a ventilator keep him alive helped to provide perspective.
It reminded me that fathers love their daddies too. It made my dad human. That probably sounds a little bit funny coming from an adult, but it is true. Until then I hadn't realized that I thought of dad as being invulnerable and invincible. The man who at times made me crazy at times had been given some super powers by his oldest son.
I remembered when a couple of marines started arguing with my mother. We were near Camp Pendleton on a family trip. I must have been about seven or eight. They thought that mom had opened the car door into their car and were giving her a hard time. They didn't notice my father loading the bags into the old station wagon.
But I remember how quickly they got into their car when they did.I remember how one moment he was at the back of the car and the next he was standing between our car and theirs. I remember the look on his face and knowing that he was angry. I don't have to close my eyes to see that look or remember his clenched fist.
They left before we did. I can't tell you exactly what they said to each other, although I did hear quite a bit. But I can tell you that it is one of those moments that helped me understand that a father's job description includes protecting his family.
It isn't the only time that I saw my father go to bat for us. There are lots of different examples not all of which involve conflict or confrontation. I didn't recognize some of them for what they were until I became a father. Didn't understand or appreciate a lot of things, but sometimes that is how it goes.
There are a lot of stories to be written and told about dad. I am guessing that until I turned 25 or so he was probably still physically stronger than I was. It is kind of a silly thing, but as a rite of passage I had always planned on winning a wrestling match. I never did.
Not because he always beat me but because that match never did materialize. You can blame my mother for that. She is the one who asked me not to challenge him, explained that he wasn't ready to let his son win. It was hard to accept. I waited for years to be big enough to take him on.
Worked out extra hard at the gym too. The men in the family tend to have broad shoulders and a lot of natural strength. I was convinced that without throwing the weights around I wouldn't stand a chance. So it was hard to let mom convince me not to throw down the gauntlet.
But I understand it differently now. I can't imagine the day when my son will be capable of beating me. Call it ego but I just can't and I don't want it to happen. So I can appreciate this now and understand that it was better for us. I am ok with it.
Seeing dad on that machine was awful, a memory that haunted me for a while. Listening to the beeps and whistles and general click clack that kept him alive scared me a bit.
But like I said, he beat the odds and now six years later I am still incredibly thankful to have my father. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. Not just because we still have him but because I can say that we have developed quite a relationship. It is still father and son, but there is a sort of friend aspect to it.
Took decades to get to this point, but I have finally lived long enough and experienced enough that I can sit with him and talk about things with a real understanding. So dad, if you ever read this let me say thank you for everything. I am still learning from you and I appreciate all that you have done.
With a lot of love,
Your son
Festival Of The Fathers- A Blog Experience Part III
I am Jack and I'm pleased to welcome you to the third edition of the Festival Of The Fathers- A Blog Experience. It is a collection of posts from throughout the daddy blogosphere. It is a diverse group of men of varying backgrounds and experiences.
Though we may have our differences we share the joy and challenges of being fathers. Take a moment to walk through and learn a little bit more about some very fine men and how we handle fatherhood. I also want to say thank you to the kind hosts who allowed me to serve as guest blogger this week.
PapaRocks6:Dad’s Represent
DadWagon; Which Way Home
PDX Dad: Though it be madness there be method to it
And Triplets Make Six: Triplet Standard Time
Random Thoughts: Dad, What is Prostate Cancer?
Elisson: THINGS MY FATHER TAUGHT ME
Clark Kent's Lunchbox: Washeteria
The Daddy Files: I Hear Dead People
Tessa's Dad: #FatherhoodFriday – My first gut check as a dad
Sex and The Single Dad: March Hotness
Toner Mishap: King of the Wild Frontier RIP
Though we may have our differences we share the joy and challenges of being fathers. Take a moment to walk through and learn a little bit more about some very fine men and how we handle fatherhood. I also want to say thank you to the kind hosts who allowed me to serve as guest blogger this week.
PapaRocks6:Dad’s Represent
DadWagon; Which Way Home
PDX Dad: Though it be madness there be method to it
And Triplets Make Six: Triplet Standard Time
Random Thoughts: Dad, What is Prostate Cancer?
Elisson: THINGS MY FATHER TAUGHT ME
Clark Kent's Lunchbox: Washeteria
The Daddy Files: I Hear Dead People
Tessa's Dad: #FatherhoodFriday – My first gut check as a dad
Sex and The Single Dad: March Hotness
Toner Mishap: King of the Wild Frontier RIP
Dad of Divas: The Hershey Company Honors Not Only Fathers, But Great Men Who Make a Difference
BigheadDad:Season One- Practice One.
BusyDad:Waiting
DaDa Rocks:Poop happens – even in the bath tub
ED@ Home: March Madness
DadLabs: World’s Greatest Dad
Buck Daddy:Because I Said So – Dad Edition – Should your teenager get a job
The Father Life: Stick With Your Rules, Even When It’s Hard
Juggling Eric:The Baseball Gene
Real Men Drive Minivans: Magna Doodle with magical powers
Daddy's Tired: Eating is So Easy
Luke, I Am Your Father: Updating My Tagline: Ideas
Sex and The Single Dad:Hot for Teacher
New York Dad: What do May flowers bring…
Us and Them: Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due
Dad's House:Kids in the Kitchen – WTF?
Hot Dads: Do What's Easy With OJ
Telling Dad:This is Why We Teach Kids About Strangers
Almighty Dad: The Biggest Loser: Lying for Profit
Writer Dad: You’re Pregnant!
That's it for now. This shouldn't be considered a complete list of the many fine daddy bloggers, but it does provide a small glimpse into our world.
If you like what you see here then please consider becoming a fan of the blog. Have additional questions/comments? Send me an email at talktojacknow-at-gmail-dot-com.
Prior Editions:
Festival Of The Fathers- A Blog Experience
Festival of The Fathers- A Blog Experience Part 2
BigheadDad:Season One- Practice One.
BusyDad:Waiting
DaDa Rocks:Poop happens – even in the bath tub
ED@ Home: March Madness
DadLabs: World’s Greatest Dad
Buck Daddy:Because I Said So – Dad Edition – Should your teenager get a job
The Father Life: Stick With Your Rules, Even When It’s Hard
Juggling Eric:The Baseball Gene
Real Men Drive Minivans: Magna Doodle with magical powers
Daddy's Tired: Eating is So Easy
Luke, I Am Your Father: Updating My Tagline: Ideas
Sex and The Single Dad:Hot for Teacher
New York Dad: What do May flowers bring…
Us and Them: Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due
Dad's House:Kids in the Kitchen – WTF?
Hot Dads: Do What's Easy With OJ
Telling Dad:This is Why We Teach Kids About Strangers
Almighty Dad: The Biggest Loser: Lying for Profit
Writer Dad: You’re Pregnant!
That's it for now. This shouldn't be considered a complete list of the many fine daddy bloggers, but it does provide a small glimpse into our world.
If you like what you see here then please consider becoming a fan of the blog. Have additional questions/comments? Send me an email at talktojacknow-at-gmail-dot-com.
Prior Editions:
Festival Of The Fathers- A Blog Experience
Festival of The Fathers- A Blog Experience Part 2
How Do You Become a Father
How do you become a father? It sounds like a ridiculous question. Way back in prehistoric times when Jack was a wee lad the question was asked by the older brother of a friend. He answered with a cackle, "stick it in and bounce up and down."
I think I was about seven or eight. Can't say that I remember for certain. But I know that I didn't have a clue what to stick where or how you were supposed to bounce while doing that. I didn't ask either. Funny to think of it, but by then I already knew that sometimes you nodded your head and pretended that you understood whatever was being discussed.
Flash forward a few decades. I am 30 years old and in the process of trying to get the wife pregnant. For years this has been verboten. Much effort has been expended in trying to practice the bouncing up and down and a few prayers have been uttered in the hope that the miracle of life doesn't happen this time.
It is a strange feeling, this trying to get pregnant thing. I have heard stories from friends who are unable to get to pregnant that I need to relax. One of them tells me that he hates having sex. I look at him with wide eyes and ask why. He tells me that they have been trying forever and the wife is losing her mind.
She has implemented a regimented schedule for sex and is having trouble sleeping because that thing that we didn't want to happen in college won't happen now. I look at him and ask if he is serious. He tells me that when they first started trying it was like manna from heaven. He couldn't provide enough servicing and that somehow heaven has turned into hell.
I hear other stories that are similar and a bunch in which I am told that all he had to do was look at her and nine months later a baby would pop out.
It is all a bit disconcerting, but I am excited about it. I figure that everyone is different and I will just have to see what happens. As it works out it doesn't take all that long. In fact, we get the news one day before we leave on a trip.
The airport makes me think that I am starring in a movie. Kids are screaming and parents are scrambling. Wives are yelling at their husbands to help or get something out some bag. I am not scared. Grew up in a house full of kids with parents who seemed to know what they were doing.
Still, I am wound up. I know that this time I have jumped off the cliff for real and am trying to learn how to fly before I hit the bottom.
Days later I am standing in the middle of Manhattan holding my oldest nephew. He is little, just an infant. I hold him in front of me and stare at him. He stares back.I ask him to tell me a story and he burps. I ask him if that is the best that he's got and he gurgles.
I put him in his stroller and we cross the street. A car comes perilously close and I yell at the driver. My sister screams at me about being in New York and that people are crazy. I stare at her and ask when L.A. turned into podunk.
I am streetwise. I am 5'10 two hundred something pounds and I will not let anyone hurt my nephew. At that moment it occurs to me that if I feel this strongly about protecting my nephew it is only going to get more interesting when my kid arrives.
On a side note I look at my sister and tell her to push the damn stroller. They don't build them with men in mind, at least not normal sized men. Later on I find out that my friend who is 6'2 has an extension put on his stroller so that it is more comfortable to push around.
Flash forward a bit and my son has arrived. He is small enough to fit in my arms like a football. The two of us are alone in the condo we live in. I am telling him stories about anything and everything. I ask him how long I have to wait for him to talk so that I understand what he wants, tell him that it is true that the world can be his.
He takes a nap in my arms and I think about how crazy this is. Not so long before one of his great grandfathers tells me that you never stop worrying about your children. I say something like "really" and he starts laughing, tells me that even though my father is in his fifties he worries about him.
My son and I sit on the couch, or should I say that I sit on the couch and listen to him snore in my ear. I stare off into space and wonder what the future is going to be like. Who will he grow up to be and how will I help him get there.
It feels like a lifetime since those days and yet he is still young and there is so much left to do and to learn. And that is the underlying lesson and message of this post, I am a father. I am a good father, but I am still learning how to do it.
I think I was about seven or eight. Can't say that I remember for certain. But I know that I didn't have a clue what to stick where or how you were supposed to bounce while doing that. I didn't ask either. Funny to think of it, but by then I already knew that sometimes you nodded your head and pretended that you understood whatever was being discussed.
Flash forward a few decades. I am 30 years old and in the process of trying to get the wife pregnant. For years this has been verboten. Much effort has been expended in trying to practice the bouncing up and down and a few prayers have been uttered in the hope that the miracle of life doesn't happen this time.
It is a strange feeling, this trying to get pregnant thing. I have heard stories from friends who are unable to get to pregnant that I need to relax. One of them tells me that he hates having sex. I look at him with wide eyes and ask why. He tells me that they have been trying forever and the wife is losing her mind.
She has implemented a regimented schedule for sex and is having trouble sleeping because that thing that we didn't want to happen in college won't happen now. I look at him and ask if he is serious. He tells me that when they first started trying it was like manna from heaven. He couldn't provide enough servicing and that somehow heaven has turned into hell.
I hear other stories that are similar and a bunch in which I am told that all he had to do was look at her and nine months later a baby would pop out.
It is all a bit disconcerting, but I am excited about it. I figure that everyone is different and I will just have to see what happens. As it works out it doesn't take all that long. In fact, we get the news one day before we leave on a trip.
The airport makes me think that I am starring in a movie. Kids are screaming and parents are scrambling. Wives are yelling at their husbands to help or get something out some bag. I am not scared. Grew up in a house full of kids with parents who seemed to know what they were doing.
Still, I am wound up. I know that this time I have jumped off the cliff for real and am trying to learn how to fly before I hit the bottom.
Days later I am standing in the middle of Manhattan holding my oldest nephew. He is little, just an infant. I hold him in front of me and stare at him. He stares back.I ask him to tell me a story and he burps. I ask him if that is the best that he's got and he gurgles.
I put him in his stroller and we cross the street. A car comes perilously close and I yell at the driver. My sister screams at me about being in New York and that people are crazy. I stare at her and ask when L.A. turned into podunk.
I am streetwise. I am 5'10 two hundred something pounds and I will not let anyone hurt my nephew. At that moment it occurs to me that if I feel this strongly about protecting my nephew it is only going to get more interesting when my kid arrives.
On a side note I look at my sister and tell her to push the damn stroller. They don't build them with men in mind, at least not normal sized men. Later on I find out that my friend who is 6'2 has an extension put on his stroller so that it is more comfortable to push around.
Flash forward a bit and my son has arrived. He is small enough to fit in my arms like a football. The two of us are alone in the condo we live in. I am telling him stories about anything and everything. I ask him how long I have to wait for him to talk so that I understand what he wants, tell him that it is true that the world can be his.
He takes a nap in my arms and I think about how crazy this is. Not so long before one of his great grandfathers tells me that you never stop worrying about your children. I say something like "really" and he starts laughing, tells me that even though my father is in his fifties he worries about him.
My son and I sit on the couch, or should I say that I sit on the couch and listen to him snore in my ear. I stare off into space and wonder what the future is going to be like. Who will he grow up to be and how will I help him get there.
It feels like a lifetime since those days and yet he is still young and there is so much left to do and to learn. And that is the underlying lesson and message of this post, I am a father. I am a good father, but I am still learning how to do it.
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