"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx
Today a teenager succeeded at something they were very uncertain about and his father got to look at him and say “I told you so.”
Not in a nagging or negative sort of way, but supportive, reassuring and warm.
Hopefully it was heard, understood and absorbed as such.
Time will tell.
We all have our paths.
Victory comes in different ways and we have to be open and aware or sometimes we don’t notice.
I showed my children the video below and told them it would provide them with motivation for making their beds.
My 17-year-old looked at me and asked if this was one of those things I expected him to get/understand/appreciate when he was older.
“What do you think?”
“I think you are trying to manipulate me.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time and it might not be the last. How do you think I got you to start taking baths when you were really little.”
He smiled and told me I should remember that he might have learned how to be sneakier.
“Maybe one day…”
He smiled again and walked away. A short time later I stood in a quiet house and wondered how much longer I get to live with these kids and how much longer I get to teach them.
It goes so very fast.
It is the bottom of the 6th inning of the Dodgers-Astros World Series and the family is gathered around the television.
That is an experience that mirrors the one I grew up with as a Dodgers fan in the ’70s and ’80s which is to say how we watched the Dodgers in the series.
But that is where many of the similarities end because by the time I was the same age as my oldest child is I had seen the boys win one series championship and play in four.
And by the time I was 19 it had turned to 2 series championships out of five visits so I never expected to have to wait 29 years before I got a chance to see them in the series again.
If my grandfathers were here we’d swap stories, memories and thoughts about this series.
We’d laugh about how the Cubs finally won another title and I know they’d talk about how they can’t believe how old they are because they would both be over a 100.
I am sure they would point out how strange it is to see us watch while occasionally checking our phones, updating statuses or responding to texts from friends/family about the game.
And I am certain they’d include a comment about their favorite grandson live blogging the moment.
****
Since they aren’t here all I can do is make educated guesses about their comments and say it is as hard and as fun to watch my boys in blue play.
The series is tied but they easily could have been up 2-0.
The reasons why they aren’t are as cut-and-dried as saying they were outplayed but include the screwy and questionable plays that make sports amazing.
You know the kind that make fans of the winning team declare those destiny and the fans of the losers call cheating.
As the game progresses I make a point to look at the faces of my children and to enjoy their expressions.
Teens are jaded and some of the looks that cross their faces are harder to come by than they once were.
Sometimes I catch them looking at me and they laugh because they say I am way too serious and there may be some truth in that.
Twenty-nine years is a long time to wait and I didn’t realize how much I missed this until it started.
It turned the pilot light that never stopped burning into something big and bright.
So as we head into the top of the 8th I have to stop writing and focus solely upon my boys.
The baseball lords of superstition must be followed and I must go through the remaining rituals just in case they will help.
Blogging has been a part of my life for 13 years now and so it has become the instrument I use to record thoughts and feelings about the new world(s) I enter.
Living in Texas for round two, except this time I have moved into a house and find myself preparing for the arrival of the children who have never lived here with me.
Visited yes, but lived, no.
A giant sacrifice on all our parts and one I desperately pray will work out half as well as I hope because it just has to.
Alone for now, I unpack boxes and organize preparing for a new life with a bit of trepidation and a lot of hope.
Thre is an inordinate amount of pressure upon me and all I can do is say I am a big boy and take it.
All I can do is my best and hope it is enough to make the sacrifice meaningful and worth it.
My gut says the answer will be yes, but you never do know about these things until you cross through to the other side.
So here is to taking steps into the fog of the great mystery and to having the courage to see it through.
Here is to finding out whether the joke is on me and if so, learning to laugh with and at myself.
Life is an adventure for those who are daring and willing to live it.
I am and I will.
I spent five out of the last seven days slinging iron in the gym and was reminded rather aggressively about how much time I have spent outside of it.
The audible cracks and creaks combine with sore muscles to make it clear that I can’t just pick up where I left off, no matter how badly I might want to.
Can’t just walk into and do what I did or expect my body to respond as if no time has passed and so I find myself having to make a significant effort to be patient.
It is the smart and mature move–I hate it.
And the silly thing is if my kids or friends asked for advice I would tell them to take their time.
Be smart, be safe and work your way back.
Guess I am not particularly good at taking my own advice.
I haven’t seen my family since January 1 and am starting to get excited because we’re only a few weeks away before the next visit.
And we’re all of two months or so before the move and we live together again.
That is a good thing, an important thing and something I am looking forward to.
It is not easy to parent from a distance and I haven’t been pleased that I have had to do it, but it is part of making a better life for us all and I think ultimately it will work.
There have been some very hard moments and challenges and it hasn’t been as smooth or easy as I had hoped.
There is some guilt and anxiety about the changes.
A certain amount of nervousness about whether it is going to be good and some fear that it could go south.
I don’t really think it will, but it might and that would to use a technical term…suck.
But I figure old Al is correct and that the only way to figure it all out is to keep going, got to put one foot in front of the other.
Can’t tell, know or see without trying it out so we’ll push on and see where it leads.
And that leads us back to the gym where the old man is doing his damnedest to stop the clock, if not turn it back.
Most of the time it feels like that is working, but there are moments where I wonder.
Moments where it becomes clear that I am not 25 any more and that I better act like it because this old body starts to bark at me if I don’t behave.
Got to trick it into forgetting how many miles I have put on and think it is younger or at least in better condition.
We’re getting there…slowly.
The kids are a mix of excited and nervous about the coming move. They ask questions and tell me they look forward to seeing me.
Sometimes they ask if there is any way to avoid moving and wonder if maybe I could move back instead of them moving here.
I get it.
I understand.
I feel badly, but sometimes the best thing you can do is take a chance and leave your comfort zone.
I am keeping my fingers crossed, it might be bumpy, but it could be great.
Hope they see it as an adventure and a chance to explore uncharted territory.
Just have to wait and see.