Fathering the “Little Moments”

This is the first time I have really mapped out what I was going to say with any sort of editorial frame of mind.  I say “mapped out” only in the vaguest sense, meaning that I have the next five posts in rough draft form in my head and have already set their titles in print.  This will likely mean that the next few posts won’t be worth a damn, so if you have been following along and need a break, now is the time to take it.  Life seems to have picked up its pace again and my head is spinning with all the dizzying force of the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair.  So much so, in fact, that a little organization seemed necessary.  As luck would have it, one of the only redeeming features on my iPhone is a memo function that I can use to jot down notes whenever they come to me.  This hasn’t created a spongy wasteland in my brain like was hoping, but thinning the heard in any fashion is bound to help for clarity’s sake.

One of these random thoughts floating around the electrical impulses in my brain seems to focus on the meaningful moments we all cherish as parents.  I have a good friend who really focuses on having adventures  with his twin children.  It appears that great time and effort is put into making special moments with them whenever his busy work schedule allows it.  Being somewhat the opposite side of this coin does not afford me the luxury of grand statements.  I think this can be said for most parents who are what most would consider the primary care giver.  Those that have received the title “STAY AT HOME PARENT”.  Those of us that spend so much time with our children that being a Parent is more like a job than a privilege are forced to seek those magical parenting moments in the very SMALL things that happen over the course of a number of days or even weeks.  I don’t have big outings with the kids all that often outside of those where the entire family can be present.  The wife and I together plan these bigger memories, and I think like my friend, my wife does a fair job of organizing certain things for her to share with the boys individually.  I, on the other hand, find little time to specifically share special moments with them for my presence is a constant in their life.  Always there . . . ALWAYS around. 

As such, I think the children and I sort of take each other for granted.  I think we all want to have these epic adventures, but the realities of school and daily life prevent that to a certain degree.  So, it is really the little things that sometimes bring me to my knees.  The other day for example, in the simple act of walking the narrow city streets together after I picked them up from school, I was able to capture a picture of them that conveys (better than my words ever could) those little moments that stick with you for a lifetime.  They won’t differentiate this walk from the seemingly millions of others we have taken in the same fashion.  The “how was your day” and “what did you learn today” grazing past them as they do on every other day.  As we walked, I snapped a picture of them walking ahead of me with backpacks clamped to their shoulders and I was reminded that being their Father happens in these little moments.  I could take them to amusement parks and on grand vacations, but neither would have the impact that these short walks to the car have had.  Idle conversation and meaningless banter give way to something bigger.  The simple understanding that we are in this together . . . whatever “this” happens to be.  We are passengers on the same train, hikers on the same trail.  We are all heading to the same destination and that seems to bond us in a way I can’t possibly describe.  One day the tracks will diverge.  They will no longer be “MY” children.  Instead I will be “THEIR” father, and the time for grander statements will be upon us.

As I pondered this fact, I realized that this change is palpable in the relationship with my own father.  He was the working parent of my youth and many of our memories together came from the “big events” that he crafted to satisfy the need that all parents have to bond with their children.  In later years we transitioned to smaller moments when we spent nearly every moment together.  We still shared epic moments based loosely on outdoor travel, but some of the long hours of just playing catch with a baseball seem now to have meant much more to the both of us.  Eventually though, once again we diverged as I became an adult with my own path leading me far from home.  Now as an adult, time and distance is against us and our relationship has changed further still.  It seems we are back to the big adventures.  He no longer inviting me on his adventures, but rather I now inviting him.  So perhaps the same will be true of me and my sons.  Maybe not in the same chronology as I with my father, but someday and in some meaningful way I will cease to be their “fixture” and the little moments will be gone.  For now, I will grasp to them jealously and savor them when my shortsightedness allows and praying that someday they will look back on the little moments we shared during this period in their life and appreciate them as much as I do now.  I still have that well-worn baseball mitt to remind me of those times in my own life and perhaps one day, this series of entries will serve that same purpose for my two sons.

Truth be told, I am a terrible parent and I get it wrong way more often than I get it right.  I can only hope that this collection of little moments with me will see them through.  If I am lucky, perhaps one day they will invite me along on their own travels as an affirmation that somewhere along the way they learned to appreciate this time we shared.  For now I will simply let this sentimentality simmer and go back to life as a fixture, needed but not consciously wanted . . . the director rather than the leading man in the movie of our life.  After all, THEY are the real stars.  Hope this made even a scrap of sense.  I warned you that the next few posts were going to suck.  Until next time.  R.