Today my “Gramps”, Harry Miller, would have been 100 years old. He lived to be over 90, which is the standard that I am shooting for. He was married to my Nana, Isabel Campbell, until she passed at 65 years old in 1977. About two years later he was married again, this time to Helene. They were married for about twenty years, until she passed.
One of the great life lessons Harry taught me through his actions, not by his words, was one of commitment and faithfulness. I remember the huge 40th anniversary celebration for Isabel and him at my aunt’s home. I remember seeing the pain in his face after the loss of his wife of over 40 years. Twenty more years of marriage to Helene taught me that people can make relationships work.
The true effect his example on my life can never be measured against “what ifs.” In a world where people like to think that nobody is affected by our actions, I can only speculate what would have happened had my Gramps not been faithfully married for such a long time: Would my father have stayed married to my mom for nearly 25 years, until his death? Would the same positive image of the relationship he had with my father be etched in my memory? If divorce was OK for my Gramps, how might my convictions about divorce be different than they are today?
Most of my life’s experiences with my Gramps involved golf clubs, balls, and trips to the zoo. I had no idea he was teaching me such important lessons all along.
Happy birthday Gramps.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
About a father's love
This morning as I was fulfilling my fatherly duties by taking my turn as "carpool chauffer" I was doing my best to exude some form of coolness to the teenagers in my car. Significantly more often with Alyssa and her friends than I did with Jenn or Dillon and their friends, I get this feeling that the kids sitting behind me date my birth somewhere in the Jurassic period.
Today I thought I would resort to strategy number 3, by finding just the right song on the radio, one that my passengers will like, and one that I have actually heard before. I found a song that, I think, went well in proving my hipness. As we rounded the corner and the wildcat came in sight, a new song started that caught me a bit by surprise.
The familiar synthesizer of Led Zeppelin’s All My Love filled the air inside our car as the doors opened to another day of high school. As I headed back down the hill toward home I thought about this song and its writer. In 1977 Led Zeppelin had been touring the U.S. and had just arrived to their hotel in New Orleans when Robert Plant received a call from his wife; his son was seriously ill. Two hours later, 6 year old Karac Plant died.
The song is written by Plant as a tribute to his son. The lyrics probably the most emotional found in any of the band’s songs. What I find most significant are the words Plant sings at the very end of the song, which do not appear in the posted lyrics. After plant questions life, its path, and love itself he can be heard in the background:
Sometimes, I get a bit lonely
Sometimes, I get a bit lonely
I don’t know if I am a little bit emotional about my son getting married, or just missing my dad, but this song touched me. I thought of the life and love stolen by the illness. I thought of my own children and the love that we share. I thought of the proud moments that my kids have given me, and about the moments that are right around the corner. And I thought about Plant, and the obvious struggles that he is dealing with as he writes this song.
I don’t know too many Christians with a “Whole Lotta Love” for Led Zeppelin, or its members. This song has changed my attitude about at least one band member. Robert Plant is really not too different than you or me. He’s a man faced with so many questions brought on by any parent’s worst fear.
Today I thought I would resort to strategy number 3, by finding just the right song on the radio, one that my passengers will like, and one that I have actually heard before. I found a song that, I think, went well in proving my hipness. As we rounded the corner and the wildcat came in sight, a new song started that caught me a bit by surprise.
The familiar synthesizer of Led Zeppelin’s All My Love filled the air inside our car as the doors opened to another day of high school. As I headed back down the hill toward home I thought about this song and its writer. In 1977 Led Zeppelin had been touring the U.S. and had just arrived to their hotel in New Orleans when Robert Plant received a call from his wife; his son was seriously ill. Two hours later, 6 year old Karac Plant died.
The song is written by Plant as a tribute to his son. The lyrics probably the most emotional found in any of the band’s songs. What I find most significant are the words Plant sings at the very end of the song, which do not appear in the posted lyrics. After plant questions life, its path, and love itself he can be heard in the background:
Sometimes, I get a bit lonely
Sometimes, I get a bit lonely
I don’t know if I am a little bit emotional about my son getting married, or just missing my dad, but this song touched me. I thought of the life and love stolen by the illness. I thought of my own children and the love that we share. I thought of the proud moments that my kids have given me, and about the moments that are right around the corner. And I thought about Plant, and the obvious struggles that he is dealing with as he writes this song.
I don’t know too many Christians with a “Whole Lotta Love” for Led Zeppelin, or its members. This song has changed my attitude about at least one band member. Robert Plant is really not too different than you or me. He’s a man faced with so many questions brought on by any parent’s worst fear.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Heading Into a New Chapter
The Saturday before last, my 22 year old son mustered up the necessary courage, and asked his sweetheart to marry him. She said yes. I instantly felt older… Despite the fact that Dillon’s fiancé is a wonderful girl and will be a great addition to our family, I am somewhat sobered about the forthcoming nuptials. I feel great joy in my heart for both of them (especially Dillon) at the same time as I find uncertainty about whether or not I have done what is necessary to prepare Dillon for his life as a husband, and ultimately, a father.
A couple of months ago Biola University prof Tim Muehlhoff was speaking at church and he said something like: “Our jobs as parents is not to have happy 15 year-olds, it is to raise well-adjusted 23 year-olds.” I think my wife and I have done a pretty good job of this with both of our adult children; my concern is about how well I have equipped him for what comes next. I feel a sense of urgency about this. The opportunities to be a positive influence to him at this stage of his life, before he becomes a lot more “hers” and significantly less “ours”, seems to be disappearing like the grains of sand in an hourglass.*
Looking back at my life and how I lived it during my twenties and thirties there are some things I wish I could re-do. By the grace of God parenting came pretty natural to both Yvonne and me.
Nevertheless, because one makes good choices in one area of life that does not guarantee that good decisions will be made in all areas of life- this is the story of my life.
I often wonder “what is the difference between someone who makes good decisions and someone who makes bad decisions.” Do some people just make good decisions, and become successful in all areas of life- and some not? Or, do those who know how to make good decisions teach that art to their children and continue a legacy of success in their families?
I hope that I have done well to teach my adult children how to make good decisions. Both Yvonne and I have been very pretty transparent with our kids about the “bad” decisions that we have made; hoping that they can see our mistakes and succeed where we have failed.
I have a little over a year until the game changes significantly, I hope that I can make the best of what little time I have.
* The one thousand miles between us does not help either.
A couple of months ago Biola University prof Tim Muehlhoff was speaking at church and he said something like: “Our jobs as parents is not to have happy 15 year-olds, it is to raise well-adjusted 23 year-olds.” I think my wife and I have done a pretty good job of this with both of our adult children; my concern is about how well I have equipped him for what comes next. I feel a sense of urgency about this. The opportunities to be a positive influence to him at this stage of his life, before he becomes a lot more “hers” and significantly less “ours”, seems to be disappearing like the grains of sand in an hourglass.*
Looking back at my life and how I lived it during my twenties and thirties there are some things I wish I could re-do. By the grace of God parenting came pretty natural to both Yvonne and me.
Nevertheless, because one makes good choices in one area of life that does not guarantee that good decisions will be made in all areas of life- this is the story of my life.
I often wonder “what is the difference between someone who makes good decisions and someone who makes bad decisions.” Do some people just make good decisions, and become successful in all areas of life- and some not? Or, do those who know how to make good decisions teach that art to their children and continue a legacy of success in their families?
I hope that I have done well to teach my adult children how to make good decisions. Both Yvonne and I have been very pretty transparent with our kids about the “bad” decisions that we have made; hoping that they can see our mistakes and succeed where we have failed.
I have a little over a year until the game changes significantly, I hope that I can make the best of what little time I have.
* The one thousand miles between us does not help either.
Elaphant Musth Cycle
I found this cool video which gives some insight into what I said in my last post about the musth cycle in elephants and how it relates to humans. I hope you enjoy it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huGxU7cjI4A
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huGxU7cjI4A
Monday, January 11, 2010
I'm 45 and I still need my dad... (continued)
In To Own a Dragon Donald Miller recounts the time he learned about musth, a periodic condition in bull elephants, characterized by highly aggressive behavior. The way I remember Miller telling it is that at this point in the young elephant’s life he is usually befriended by an older male elephant. During the musth cycle, the senior elephant takes time to teach the younger elephant the “ropes” of all things adult elephant from foraging for food to wooing women.
One popular website says this about musth: Musth is linked to sexual arousal or establishing dominance, but this relationship is far from clear. Cases of elephants goring and killing rhinoceroses in national parks in Africa have been documented and attributed to musth in young male elephants, especially those growing in the absence of older males.
It is worth noting that when these young male elephants do not have the influence of an older male that the potential of him going nuts increases incredibly.
So, what does this have to do with me now? What does this have to do with a 45 year old still needing his dad? Well, my dad died when I was eighteen years old - about the equivalent of when a young male elephant enters musth. And, like the elephants that went crazy and killed rhinos, I was once a young male with more questions than answers and more frustrations than I had the ability to deal with in a healthy way. What I needed was my father’s ear and advice, but lost that and more much too soon.
And now, as I am in my mid-forties, I seem to discover on a regular basis the positive impact a father can have on his adult age son. When I was young my dad did show me how to start the mower without hurting myself, how to use a stick-shift, the best way to wash a car, and what good golf course etiquette is.
But, it was the stuff that comes after that I so sorely missed. Not once did I get the college age lesson from dad asking “how are you going to afford that?” As a new husband I never had the opportunity to call him to enquire about this new creature I was living with. When I became a dad I didn’t get the chance ask him about balancing work, church, and home. And now that I am a parent of adult children, I sense that I am “winging it” because I never got to see my dad relate to me or my siblings as adults.
In short, I missed out on a whole lot. And I am less than I could have been.
more thoughts to come…
One popular website says this about musth: Musth is linked to sexual arousal or establishing dominance, but this relationship is far from clear. Cases of elephants goring and killing rhinoceroses in national parks in Africa have been documented and attributed to musth in young male elephants, especially those growing in the absence of older males.
It is worth noting that when these young male elephants do not have the influence of an older male that the potential of him going nuts increases incredibly.
So, what does this have to do with me now? What does this have to do with a 45 year old still needing his dad? Well, my dad died when I was eighteen years old - about the equivalent of when a young male elephant enters musth. And, like the elephants that went crazy and killed rhinos, I was once a young male with more questions than answers and more frustrations than I had the ability to deal with in a healthy way. What I needed was my father’s ear and advice, but lost that and more much too soon.
And now, as I am in my mid-forties, I seem to discover on a regular basis the positive impact a father can have on his adult age son. When I was young my dad did show me how to start the mower without hurting myself, how to use a stick-shift, the best way to wash a car, and what good golf course etiquette is.
But, it was the stuff that comes after that I so sorely missed. Not once did I get the college age lesson from dad asking “how are you going to afford that?” As a new husband I never had the opportunity to call him to enquire about this new creature I was living with. When I became a dad I didn’t get the chance ask him about balancing work, church, and home. And now that I am a parent of adult children, I sense that I am “winging it” because I never got to see my dad relate to me or my siblings as adults.
In short, I missed out on a whole lot. And I am less than I could have been.
more thoughts to come…
Friday, January 8, 2010
I'm 45 and I still need my dad...
Is it merely coincidence, divine interaction, or a subconscious ploy of my own that I am currently reading To Own a Dragon, by Donald Miller, while I have been taking Adolescent Development and now Adult Development in school?
My college of choice for my Human Development degree is Hope International University, which to this point has done a pretty good job at integrating the values found within the Christian faith in the classes I have taken. Nevertheless, because of accrediting issues or few choices for texts, the majority of our reading material comes from a secular humanist perspective. Last spring I took a class called Social Problems, which mostly blamed the U.S. Government and white men (not necessarily in that order) for all of the problems found in our society today.
One quote that caught my eye in the text was one that said that kids who grow up without a father in the home do just as well as kids who grow up in two parent households. I do not remember what data that the authors cited to come to their conclusions, but I wonder if the authors have lived the experience that they claim is not so bad for the kids.
Over the past few years I have become aware of just how important a father is in the life of his children-leading me to conclusions that are quite divergent from those of the published “experts” that I, and thousands of others, have been taught in class.
I lost my father to cancer when I was eighteen and a half years old, and only in recent months have realized how much that loss affected me as a young adult. I had moved out of our family’s home just a few months prior to his death, and by conventional wisdom his responsibility to me was finished. I was a legal adult, and had moved away to a new city; I was practically on my own. However, there is no way that I could measure the negative impact of not having my dad around all these years has had on me.
Today I am thinking about a family we know with a struggling single mother, trying to raise her kids on her own. Her kids are passing classes in school, which would support the claims of the authors mentioned above. What cannot be measured is the inside stuff that goes on and cannot be found on a graph or spreadsheet: the guilt feelings inside a mother that come from a life of financial struggles; the disrespect that comes because the mom has been too soft on the kids for too many years; the depression that comes from doing it all by herself; the lack of a father to be an example to a son of how a man should love his wife; there is so much more.
Donald Miller tells of the time when his mother was the only female father in his Boy Scout troop. He remembers the embarrassment and awkwardness of having his landlord’s son stand-in as his “dad” during a campout…
more coming...
My college of choice for my Human Development degree is Hope International University, which to this point has done a pretty good job at integrating the values found within the Christian faith in the classes I have taken. Nevertheless, because of accrediting issues or few choices for texts, the majority of our reading material comes from a secular humanist perspective. Last spring I took a class called Social Problems, which mostly blamed the U.S. Government and white men (not necessarily in that order) for all of the problems found in our society today.
One quote that caught my eye in the text was one that said that kids who grow up without a father in the home do just as well as kids who grow up in two parent households. I do not remember what data that the authors cited to come to their conclusions, but I wonder if the authors have lived the experience that they claim is not so bad for the kids.
Over the past few years I have become aware of just how important a father is in the life of his children-leading me to conclusions that are quite divergent from those of the published “experts” that I, and thousands of others, have been taught in class.
I lost my father to cancer when I was eighteen and a half years old, and only in recent months have realized how much that loss affected me as a young adult. I had moved out of our family’s home just a few months prior to his death, and by conventional wisdom his responsibility to me was finished. I was a legal adult, and had moved away to a new city; I was practically on my own. However, there is no way that I could measure the negative impact of not having my dad around all these years has had on me.
Today I am thinking about a family we know with a struggling single mother, trying to raise her kids on her own. Her kids are passing classes in school, which would support the claims of the authors mentioned above. What cannot be measured is the inside stuff that goes on and cannot be found on a graph or spreadsheet: the guilt feelings inside a mother that come from a life of financial struggles; the disrespect that comes because the mom has been too soft on the kids for too many years; the depression that comes from doing it all by herself; the lack of a father to be an example to a son of how a man should love his wife; there is so much more.
Donald Miller tells of the time when his mother was the only female father in his Boy Scout troop. He remembers the embarrassment and awkwardness of having his landlord’s son stand-in as his “dad” during a campout…
more coming...
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