Welcome Home

As I mentioned in my last post, my mother died on Memorial Day. I have done my weeping, and I’m sure I’ll do more. But I’m not particularly a fan of weepy blogs so I’ll save my weeping for off-line time. Plus, with Chris and Tommy at the ages they are now they don’t need to see Dad crying, and anyway their blissful ignorance of the whole thing helps me keep things in perspective.

For example. Whenever I travel for business, I always bring my boys a present from my travels. It’s usually something I pick up in an airport gift shop. Well, I left rather suddenly last Sunday to try to get to my mother’s bedside (I live in the western US and my mom lived in New England) and on my way out the door Chris asked, “Dad, are you going to bring us back a present?”

Never mind that my mind was in shambles.

“Of course,” I answered with a smile. “I always do, don’t I?”

I explained to the boys as I was leaving that Nana was very, very sick and I needed to go and visit her. At some level they understood, but at ages four and two they are focused, appropriately, on what is in this for them.

Upon my return, they were waiting for me when I pulled up into the driveway. As they ran up to greet me they shouted, “What did you bring us?”

Never mind that my wife had told them my mom, their Nana, had died.

‘What did you bring us’ affirms that focus must be on today, the here and now, those who are living. It reinforces the idea that we must embrace life now, today, this very moment. We must love and cherish the time we have at that moment with those we love, and save the sadness and weeping for those times when we are alone.

Anyway, the boys really enjoyed the toy helicopters I brought home for them. Later that night, after we read books and were getting ready for bed, Tommy held up his new helicopter and said, “Dad, this is my favorite toy ever!”

Two days from now he’ll forget where it is.

I’m glad that today he is happy, that at this moment he feels like he has the best toy in the world. Tomorrow, the next day, the next month can take care of themselves. At this moment he is happy. I am happy for him. For now my sadness is gone.

It’s great to be The Family Man.