A Day In June
Task 24, June 13 to June 20
“A father carries pictures where his money used to be…” Steve Martin
Milestones in my life…hmmmm, let me see. Okay, there have been many, some more impactful than others, and I’ll save the whopper for last. Here are mine, in no particular order: my first footlong hotdog from Eddie’s Grill in Geneva-On-The-Lake, Ohio; my first paycheck–$62.50–from the Skyway Drive-In motion picture theater in Ashtabula, Ohio. It was signed by the odd but friendly owner, Dick Hirschman, and I proudly deposited it into my brand new checking account at the Farmer’s National Bank the very next day; my first make-out session with (NAME DELETED TO PROTECT THE REPUTATION OF THE PERSON I SLOBBERED ALL OVER THAT NIGHT IN GARY PATRICK’S BASEMENT); my college graduation, which was supposed to take place in early June, but I couldn’t walk with my classmates because I didn’t have enough credits to graduate, so I had to go to summer school and I got my diploma on a terribly humid morning in August. That I graduated at all was a minor miracle, as I was a horrible student and my GPA was abysmal, but it elated my mom and kept me out of Vietnam; my first time abroad, which incredibly brought me to Cairo, Egypt, and I have proof–a picture of me, a full-on rube, perched atop a camel near the Pyramid of Cheops; and, of course, my wedding to Valerie, which has been a 30 year journey of bliss for me, if not for her…
But the mother of all milestones is fatherhood. Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepares a young man, especially one as clueless as myself, for the utter highs and lows, not to mention the stark terror, seething frustration, utter elation and mind-numbing pain of being a father. One night you’re just a guy with very few responsibilities, with a wife who’s pregnant, yeah, but that’s not a huge deal, and then one Sunday evening, while you’re on the couch watching a Laker game your wife bolts to her feet, points to the water pooled at her feet, and says cooly, “it’s time…”, and the next day YOU’RE HOLDING A BABY in your arms and the eighteen year thrill ride begins! Diapering, feeding, cajoling, carrying, crying, laughing, lecturing, chasing; there’s class projects, dances, soccer matches and screaming matches; there’s driving lessons and vomiting (in the backseat of your new car), lecturing, shopping, McDonald-ing, dressing and undressing, hysteria and spit-takes, petulance and patience, agony and sorrow and oh yes, a lot of love sprinkled on top, along with a closetful of unworn ties and belts and vacation tee shirts.
CHECK OUT OUR PODCAST, OLD PEOPLE THIS WEEK, ON YOUTUBE, SPOTIFY AND APPLE PODCASTS
Fathering a child is beyond humbling yet the most satisfying experience(s) of my life. The man I am today is not a product of my upbringing, nor a product of my career nor my environment–the man I am today is a product of over 40 years of fatherhood. My character was forged in the fiery cauldron of the often conflicting emotions that a man faces when trying to guide his flesh and blood through the epochs that is a life: the wonders of early childhood, the pain of separation that comes with school, and the tumultuous teenage years.
If I could go back and change anything, would I? Hell yes! I made sooooo many mistakes, but I can’t go back, so I will find solace in telling myself that I did the best job I could, and the four adults I sired, who are now adults themselves, living in four different states (only one in the state where I reside); to them I can only offer this: I love you, I miss you, and I am proud of you.
TASK: Enjoy father’s day.