The kid called!

Do you remember, when you were a kid, the joy that came from being noticed (in a positive way) by a grown up?  I’m sure you know what I mean, an unsolicited, "out of the blue", compliment about something that mattered. 

Yesterday, Audrey called me.  When I saw the screen light up with her name, I understood the feeling that came over the dog when we’d let him out of the house.  I jumped up and ran around my office 3 times then scratched behind my ear with my left shoe. 

I know, this is a touch different than the whole "being noticed thing", but I'm being honest here.

“Hi Audrey!  I’m so happy you called!!”

“Hi Dad!  Things are great.  I saw you called and thought I’d call you back.”

At this point, my feelings turned from “dog running around the office” to “Grandpa in the nursing home.”

“Well, kiddo, its Tuesday.  Mom and I called on the way home from church on Sunday.”

“Hmm, that’s weird; it looked to me like you just called.”

Obviously, her iPhone must have some kind of issue.  Seriously.  I think it’s important to accept “techno glitch” excuses at face value as they are a key source of excuse for all of modern humanity.  To call someone out on this would be a grand hypocrisy and probably trigger some kind of voice recognition software that would send electric shocks through my ear. 

Realizing that I’m now in the realm of “aged man eager to hear his daughter’s voice”, I went on, knowing that all power had ceded to the young woman on the other end of the line.

We chatted about friends, the dorm, running, and ROTC PT training.  We talked about some socially aware art class where she needed to buy Cool Aid for coloring. 

We talked about kayaking class. 

I’m still trying to reconcile kayaking to Pre-Med, but her academic advisor says she’s got an excellent 1^st semester schedule.  I don’t know.  I suppose they know what they’re doing down there, but it occurs to me that maybe “Cool Aid” is a code word for something else.  Time will tell. 

All is good for her and honestly, as long as remembering (yes, I know I’m using “remembering” loosely here) Mom and Dad every so often is on the agenda, we’ll all be good. 

Otherwise, we’ll start texting her daily........

Yeah....umm.....haha......”start”

One kid down.

I’m just going to come right out and say it. 

I’m fine. 

I’m not worried, sad, anxious, concerned, or even nostalgic.  I’m cool.  I’ll also give you one piece of advice, and no more, say goodbye to your college kid before you start move in day. 

Take her to dinner, fuss over her a little, tell her that she’s made great choices and then focus at the task ahead, because honestly folks, once you pull the mini-van up to the dorm, it is “game on” for them, and “game over” for you.  There will be no time for meaningful conversation once the day starts because your freshman becomes too aware of all the awesome new things that are happening around them. 

You need to be cool with that; seeing your kid confidently kick you out of her new home is somehow gratifying for most parents.  That’s all I’m saying.  If you can’t come to grips with that, call Dr. Phil.

I’ll also tell you that I was completely wrong about almost every aspect of the move. 

I gave one heck of a great speech regarding “the packing of necessities vs. amenities.” I further lectured all those listening about the “square footage of the interior of a mini-van and available storage space in your ‘run of the mill’ dorm room.”   Al Bundy would have given me a high five.

It all fit in the van.  It all fit in the room. 

There may, or may not, have been some “I told you so’s” exchanged by the student capable of entering a prestigious university and the father capable of basic janitorial services at said institution.

I was also not emotional.  I didn’t even feel a flicker, quiver, lump in the throat or puffy lip.  I was too busy doin’ stuff.  If you know me, this is astonishing.  I’ve been nearly in tears over this exodus for 2 months.  I’ve been really in tears twice. 

I was right about one thing.  I brought a dolly that converts into a cart.  All the students thought I was cool and exceedingly smart.  I didn’t wait in the long line of cars.  I pushed her stuff right past them.  Hee hee...

I also brought my toolbox, which made me feel kind of cool, until some kid asked “the maintenance man” if he’d come lower his bed.  Little jerk.

There are so many mini-stories to share, walks through Williamsburg and Yorktown with the cute German girl, Wawa’s after 10:00 PM where everyone under 30 was plowed, weddings on the beach, used microwaves for sale that still contained pop-corn, buildings that echo, patio dinner with guitarist that played “Old Hippie”, pep rallies, and a Dr. stalker.  I might work some of them in later.

Anyway, back to life for a while.  More updates are on the way.  As the story unfolds for us, I’ll share with all of you..............

My kids are growing up.  We’ve been watching this happen from a distance to a lot of our friends.  But, it isn’t real until it happens to you. 

To be a good parent, you need to have a healthy dose of modesty.  Think about it.  If you do your job, your kids will pass you by.  If you’re good at it, they’ll kick your *&%.  If you’re great, your kids will learn that happiness is the real goal, and they’ll live their lives doing things that promote a sense of wellbeing. 

Patty and I have done our best.  We’re a happy couple.  She forgives me when I’m a chest thumping Neanderthal.  I forgive her when she, um....when she....let me think......well, the next time she’s in need of forgiving, I’ll be all over it. 

I’m a dude, after all, I like to win, lead, charge ahead, be right, fix stuff, make it happen, be witty, and alpha male my way to the top of the pile.  Occasionally, I’ll haplessly knock over the china.  She’s calm, sweet, patient, loving, nurturing, quiet and gentle.  The china is perfectly safe in her hands.  Looking at the two of us, I’d say it’s a perfect match.  If she’d married someone like her, she’d be living in a tent and driving a VW bus with peace signs, if I’d have married someone like me, there would have been blood and I’d have a roommate with a gold tooth. 

Thank God for a match of opposites. 

Truth be told though, I’m also artistic and gentle too.  I love the outdoors, biking, backpacking, kayaking, and spending time in the quiet.  I like to sing and play the piano.  I proudly play Mozart, Dvorak, and Tchaikovsky, but also jam 70’s Rock and 80’s Metal.  My personality profile suggests that I’m an introvert, which surprises everyone except the girl who is calm, sweet, patient, loving, etc, etc.  She knows that quiet time is what recharges my batteries.

Patty and I have placed a great emphasis on values that matter.  Faith, friendship, good food, good rest, helping others, good work, and exercise. 

Ok, enough preaching.

This blog is about the reality kick in the pants that comes with watching your babies become adults.  It’s about things we’re experiencing, doing, forgetting, and will hopefully give you some idea of what to expect with a few chuckles along the way.

Enjoy the ride...............

The below facebook post was the final catalyst to attempt a blog thanks to my friend Susan and many others who have encouraged me to write with some degree of consistency. 

We were driving along in our 1995 Saturn, heading toward Naperville to visit some friends. She was only a few months old, and I suppose the car ride wasn’t her idea of fun because she started to fuss. I like to sing. I’m not sure how good I am, but if you live in my house, you get to hear plenty of it. I’d recently picked up “Poems, Prayers and Promises” by the late John Denver, and a beautiful song came to mind. I changed the words a bit and began..........”Baby, my sweet baby. Do your tears belong to me? Did you think our time together, was all gone. Baby, my sweet baby, I’m as close as I can be.........”

Quiet. Like a little mouse, she listened to her Daddy and my heart melted.

So right away, I had her...or maybe she had me. Dad’s fall in love with their little girls in ways hard to describe. We’ll pick flowers and play dolls, we’d size up an NFL linebacker if we felt them a threat, and we’ll watch Power Puff girls on the TV.....anything just to be close to them.

And then one day, they’re driving, doing stuff with their friends, holding hands with a boy, leading others, and basically expressing their independence. And it makes me extraordinarily proud.

And then one day they're leaving.

Then one day it “hits you” that in a few days, you’re going to be the one sitting in the car crying. But it’s ok. They’ll be good tears and I’ll get to share them with my cute German girl on the way home from college. And we’ll both be beaming.

I remember the independent young woman that left Germany to join life’s adventure with me and I can’t help but comparing her to Audrey.  She, who fearlessly looks at this next page in her life without apprehension, but with enthusiasm and the same quiet resolve as her mother. I’m happy her apple fell close to Patty’s tree.

As if Williamsburg isn’t far away enough, soon we’ll be preparing for the next journey, getting Hannah ready to realize her dream to serve with missionaries at a clinic in Haiti.

Someone pass me a tissue........I can hardly see to type.

  

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