There is an undeniable bond that exists between a father and his son. When the son really needs his father to do something, he simply does it. So when my son sent me a text asking me when I was going to update my blog, I felt obligated to start again.
History backs me up on the fact that when a son needs his dad, he’s there for him.
For example, during the 1992 Summer Olympics a son and his father accomplished something far better than winning a gold medal. Derek Redmond came into the games representing the USA favored to win the 400 meters until fate intervened halfway through the event. As he attempted to turn the corner, he tore his hamstring and fell to the track in agony. Refusing to give up, he got back up and began to valiantly hop toward the finish line. His dad then appeared putting his arm around his son holding his weight while they walked together. His father only released him so he could then finish the final few meters for himself. Derek and his father reminded me of that undeniable bond and how a dad knows what he must do.
Who can forget the time in the 1980 Winter Olympics as the USA Men’s Hockey Team stunned the favored Russians in what we now refer to as, “The Miracle on Ice”. But bigger than the upset, I remember the goalie, Jim Craig, being draped in the American flag after the team won the gold medal, mouthing the words, “Where is my father?” The significance being, Craig had depended on his father for the previous three years after his mom had died and now in his greatest moment as an athlete, he needed to share it with his dad. Even in victory, a son desires his dad’s shoulder to lean on, to be accepted by the person he respects most.
Lastly, in my own personal life, although I was never an Olympian, star athlete, or a celebrity, my dad was there for me when I needed him. Whether he was supporting me by coming to my ballgames with my mom, offering to take my place when I was seriously ill, or telling me he was proud of me when I needed to hear it most. My dad has proved to be someone I can rely on when I need him most.
So, this is for you, Jordan, I will do my best to be a shoulder to lean on and a writer who can offer support, even when I don’t know exactly what you might need.
“It is a wise father that knows his own child.”
My son’s dad, Swavel
Showing posts with label son. Show all posts
Showing posts with label son. Show all posts
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Never More Proud
I am a part of a very special and proud fraternity, I am a father. The following are some very special memories I have shared with my children over the years.
In the early morning of March 21st, 1991, my newborn son was gently handed to me. The world slowed momentarily as I got acquainted with my son. Another memory comes to mind when he gave the salutatorian speech last year at his graduation. Never have I been more proud of him.
On the afternoon of April 24th, 1993, when my first daughter was born, I inherited a rich man's family . The last night I shared with my daughter before she changed her address to heaven, she unselfishly bought crackers and chips for some of her friends with her own birthday money. Never have I been more proud of her.
It was the afternoon of June 2nd, 2003, when my third child (second daughter) was handed to my wife and I in Nanjing, China. It was a day my heart smiled. Now at the age of seven, my daughter insists on reading her bedtime stories to me every night. Never have I been more proud of her.
My children have made me proud from the moment I set my eyes on them. Perhaps this thought from Elizabeth Stone best sums it up, "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
Swavel
In the early morning of March 21st, 1991, my newborn son was gently handed to me. The world slowed momentarily as I got acquainted with my son. Another memory comes to mind when he gave the salutatorian speech last year at his graduation. Never have I been more proud of him.
On the afternoon of April 24th, 1993, when my first daughter was born, I inherited a rich man's family . The last night I shared with my daughter before she changed her address to heaven, she unselfishly bought crackers and chips for some of her friends with her own birthday money. Never have I been more proud of her.
It was the afternoon of June 2nd, 2003, when my third child (second daughter) was handed to my wife and I in Nanjing, China. It was a day my heart smiled. Now at the age of seven, my daughter insists on reading her bedtime stories to me every night. Never have I been more proud of her.
My children have made me proud from the moment I set my eyes on them. Perhaps this thought from Elizabeth Stone best sums it up, "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
Swavel
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Let’s play catch
Have you ever seen the baseball movie, “Field of Dreams?” The whole movie revolves around the son’s attempt to get one more chance to spend time with his father. Who can forget the image of the son and his dad playing catch at the very end of the movie as the credits begin to roll? That got me to thinking.
One of my fondest memories growing up was when my dad took the time to play catch with me. When the mood would strike I would wander into the basement, where dad was often working on his car, with my baseball glove and ball and ask if he had time to play catch. He would often hesitate, then give in and say, 'okay, if you get my glove we can throw for a few minutes.' We didn’t say much, but it always made me feel better after we were done. Always.
Since I have become a dad I have done the same with my son, first when he was playing baseball and now softball. For some reason, it seems to give us both a strange sense of satisfaction as we see how far and hard we can throw to each other. Kind of like a challenge, a man’s way of passing a test, but at the same time no one is keeping record. Now, I understand a lot better why my dad took the time. There is nothing like just sharing a moment, just him and I.
Some of the best times you will ever have with your child is when you are just 'being' together. It doesn't need to be a game of catch, perhaps just something you both enjoy. "A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove. But the world may be different, because I was important in the life of a 'child'." (Forest Witcraft)
Swavel
Your turn: What is your most favorite childhood memory?
One of my fondest memories growing up was when my dad took the time to play catch with me. When the mood would strike I would wander into the basement, where dad was often working on his car, with my baseball glove and ball and ask if he had time to play catch. He would often hesitate, then give in and say, 'okay, if you get my glove we can throw for a few minutes.' We didn’t say much, but it always made me feel better after we were done. Always.
Since I have become a dad I have done the same with my son, first when he was playing baseball and now softball. For some reason, it seems to give us both a strange sense of satisfaction as we see how far and hard we can throw to each other. Kind of like a challenge, a man’s way of passing a test, but at the same time no one is keeping record. Now, I understand a lot better why my dad took the time. There is nothing like just sharing a moment, just him and I.
Some of the best times you will ever have with your child is when you are just 'being' together. It doesn't need to be a game of catch, perhaps just something you both enjoy. "A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove. But the world may be different, because I was important in the life of a 'child'." (Forest Witcraft)
Swavel
Your turn: What is your most favorite childhood memory?
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