Reflections of a Father

On a Father's Day, my thoughts drift between my dad, and being a dad. I want to write about my Dad. But it would take me all day to think of the things I want to say. In a recent Facebook status, I wrote "Contemplating Father's Day, and convinced that, at my best, I couldn't carry my Dad's suitcase. But I am ok with that." I wasn't fishing for compliments (but I really appreciate the kind words), but rather stating that I don't think I could ever be the man that my Dad was. I know he had his failings, but I sure didn't see that many or very often. I miss him. A lot.

So bouncing between my father and being a father, I am taking a shortcut and posting things I've already written. The short tribute I wrote for my Dad at his funeral doesn't even come close to saying all that could be said, but I knew that I would have a hard time making it through even a few paragraphs.

Then there are a couple of letters that I recently wrote for Abbey and Rachel. Rachel's note was for her to read at her Confirmation retreat. Abbey's letter was supposed to be read on the bus from the graduation ceremony to the after grad party. I think she eventually read it, but it wasn't on the bus. She was afraid I'd make her cry. While none of these are long in content, they are true to my heart.

I'm a lucky guy. Great parents. Great wife. Great kids. Not bragging. Just appreciating.

Happy Father's Day

For my little girl...

Chelly,

Wow! Hard to believe that my little girl is growing up. You will always be my little girl, but you know that. As I celebrate this weekend, and what it means both in your spiritual and personal growth, I start to reflect on many things. So many things come to mind when I think of my little Chelly:

©      Monkey-chunk

©      Chicka Chicka Boom Boom – “Again!”

©      Doing the conga line dance through the narthex of the old church.

©      I have a sammich and I’m gonna eat it.

©      Squirt

©      The ability to fall asleep at wedding reception while the music blasts away

©      The Lobster Dance

But more than importantly, I think of:

©      Love

©      Kindness

©      Consideration

©      Caring

©      Gentleness

©      Smart

©      Funny

You are all these things and so much more. You are my most precious child, on loan from God. You are God’s child first, mine second. He loves you more than I can ever possibly begin to love you, and that is more than a kabillion chocolate chip cookies. You are sweet young woman. I am very proud of you, today and every day.

I love you!

Daddy

Not the end, but the beginning.

Abbey,

I remember the day that you were born like it was yesterday. Moving down the hall to tell your grandparents the good news, I don’t think my feet hit the floor. That day I thought that I invented fatherhood. My precious little girl, perfect in every way, was a true gift from God.

I remember taking you to day care, and you didn’t want me to leave. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to keep you with me all day. But you went along the way, and when things weren’t to your liking, you made sure they knew it. You had no problem telling Rosemary that it was time to move up.

I remember taking you to your first day of kindergarten. You were ready for school – a bright, inquisitive little girl that loved wolves and action heroes, and the occasional Barbie doll. You moved through grade school never holding back, in learning or saying what’s on your mind.

I remember when you started middle school. I was not ready for that. My baby was growing up. You were no longer interested in super heroes and rough housing with Dad. You had new interests, and boys were starting to take my place in your life. Your desire to learn never waned, and teachers were always quick to point out your gift for learning and for writing. You were well on your way to defining who you would become.

I remember when you started high school. I remember thinking that the day you would graduate is not far off.  How can that be? Can I stop it from happening? Can I keep you with me all of the days? I cannot, and I should not. You have so much more to accomplish. You have worked so hard, and on the day you walk across the stage, with all of the bling draped around your neck, you can be proud that your achievements were never given to you. You have earned them. But also remember that this is not the end, this is the beginning. Your best days will not be left in the halls of Blue Valley North High School. They are yet to be defined.

You are, Abbey, still my precious, perfect little girl. You are still the one to let others know who you are, and what you will accomplish. You are still the one who will never hold back. You are the still the one that, even after college, will always continue to learn. You have so much to give, and so much to receive in return.

I am so proud of you. You have never failed me, never disappointed me, and always make me smile. You will always be my little girl who loved super heroes, wolves, and the crocodile hunter. You will always be my little Boo.

I Love You,

Dad

"There are two lasting bequests we can give our children.  One is roots.  The other is wings."
 ~Hodding Carter, Jr.

A Father's Legacy

The following was my tribute to my father at his funeral in June 2007:

As I consider my own mortality, I ask myself, “What will be my legacy?” What will people think of when they think of me? That is important to me, as I think it is for most people. In light of losing the most important man in my life, I am proud of the legacy he leaves behind.

I often hear that my dad was proud of his three boys. He saw us as successful. We are a vice-president of a leading sports architecture firm, a vice-president of a leading car rental agency, and a director of global sales for the number 6 company on the Fortune 500 list. But my dad never defined success by a title, or by wealth, or by social status and prominence. His idea of success was defined by character, by family, and by faith. You have heard that my dad was a man of character and of strong work ethic. He embodied the definition of these words and concepts. His words and actions were defined by what is morally right. Anything less than this by the three of us was unacceptable. Although he did not write the golden rule, he definitely lived it. This is his legacy to us, as was his expectation that we will pass this on to the next generation, his grandchildren.

Another important part of his legacy is financial security. He lived his entire life not for the present, but for the future. He knew the importance of fiscal responsibility and for having a secure future. He taught this to me in many ways, including, in the early years of my youth, K-Mart tennis shoes and Sear’s Toughskin jeans instead of Nike’s and Levi’s. For years I have joked about this, and probably always will. But I now know that my mother will live the rest of her life without having to worry about money. She can live comfortably, and enjoy an extravagance or two, and know she is taken care of. I know that is something that the three of us are extremely grateful for.

A man can be defined by his legacy. My father is defined by character, by integrity, by a strong work ethic, by the importance of family, and by faith.

As I mentioned earlier, I have heard it said many times that our father is proud of his boys. Well Dad, your boys are proud of you as well.

Bye Bye Delta. It’s been fun.

Dear Delta,

Do you remember when I would book an economy ticket, and sit in first class? And when I would book an exit aisle seat (seat 26C on the MD88), and no matter how many times you would change that flight or equipment I would still have an exit aisle seat? And when I would call you, I would get to speak to a live person in less than 3 minutes? I liked that time.

I know that we don’t see each other as much as we used to. I changed jobs last year. Part of it was economy related; part of it was normal reorganization. Most of the travel I make today is by car. But when I do fly, I am loyal to you. I am fairly certain that sometime soon I’ll be back to flying like I used to – about 80 to 90 thousand miles a year.

But, my dear Delta, when that day comes, I think I may have to find a new partner. Things just aren’t like they used to be. I thought that my 3+ years as a medallion (2+ as Platinum) would still matter to you. Sure, you still have some awesome gate agents and flight attendants, but things have definitely changed. And I can clearly see that you just don’t love me like you used to. I understand that I’m just not there for you like I used to be, but I guess I really didn’t expect this kind of response:

·         You changed my itinerary on the same trip. TWICE! And both times you move me from an exit aisle seat to a middle seat. That’s three times in the last year that you did me like this. I swear that I told you numerous times in the past that my anxiety/claustrophobia will just not let me sit there.  Because of that, I pick my flight times based on aisle availability. You must have forgotten that.

·         When my Worldmate app (your in-house notification system must have lost my phone number/email address) told me my itinerary had changed (equipment, I guess) and I was moved from my exit aisle seat of 25C to a crappy middle seat of 15B, I called your SkyMiles “priority line.” After about 15 minutes on hold I spoke with Kay, who I really thought was my new best friend. She put me back in an exit aisle seat (26C). Maybe you do still love me!

·         Four hours later I went to check in online and found I was still in that crappy seat of 15B. What happened? Kay just told me that I was put back in a seat I reserved when I bought my ticket. No doubt that you don’t love me anymore.

I tried calling you, but I guess you were too busy to talk to me. While I was on hold, I went to your web site and opened a chat session with Glen. Man, was he really helpful. He told me he was sorry for the inconvenience, he was sorry for my disappointment, and that I should call Delta Customer Service. That chat feature sure is helpful!

Fortunately, I was still waiting to speak with you via your SkyMiles Priority Line. About 100 minutes in to the call, I fell asleep waiting to speak with you. When I woke up the next morning, I checked my phone log. The total call duration was 4 hours, 29 minutes. TWO HUNDRED SIXTY-NINE MINUTES I waited to talk to you. All I can say is WOW! I can sure  see how important my call is to you.

So Delta, I get the message. It’s time to see other people. So while I wait for my next job/responsibilities change and I start traveling my previous 80,000 miles per year, I will see if Continental, United, and US Air improved since I last traveled and swore I’d never sit in their seats again. Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love and the long-lasting relationship that I thought you and I had. Worse case, I’ll get the same service I had with you. But at that, I really haven’t lost anything have I?

Good luck Delta, and I hope we can still be friends.

Sincerely,

Your Previously Loyal Customer

A Toast to Bill and Amy

As many of you know, I am the youngest of three brothers. There is Tom, the wise grayish-haired elder. (At least he has hair.) Then there is Bill, who is 50% Rock Star, 50% comedian, and always entertaining. Both are 100% successful. I am blessed with two amazing brothers. As I contemplate the concept of brothers, I was trying think of a modern analogy that everyone could relate to. I struggled to find something recent. I know Nick and Jordan will understand “Step Brothers” but I don’t think that fits with anything I am trying to say.

For those of us older than 40, it might be Wally and Beaver Cleaver. Wally and Beaver always seemed to be pretty close. They hung out and had fun on a fairly regular basis. I always wondered what happened to that relationship when Wally started chasing the girls. That would leave Beaver to hang out with Larry Mondello. Larry may have been a nice enough guy, but he never struck me as a guy that could replace Wally as a friend. I guess that how it is with brothers.

I don’t think I could say that Bill and I had a Wally and Beaver relationship. We had the 45^th Street Good guys, but soon girls and music consumed Bill’s life, and so I hung out with Larry Mondello, who in my case was Mark Blair. But I never stopped looking up to my brothers, whether it was hitting home runs out of Hodge Park or jamming on stage with Trail Time. I was always very proud to be Bill Tingle’s little brother. In fact, it led to my first entrepreneurial experience as I learned that I could sell his senior picture to the girls of my freshman and sophomore classmates for a buck a piece. I thank God we didn’t have Facebook back then or I would have been broke.

As we got older we did what most brothers do, we started living our lives in separate cities. Sure we kept in touch with the occasional phone and email, and we would bring the families together at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but we were never close like when were kids sitting in the picnic table/dugout in the backyard/home field on 45^th Street.

That all changed almost 2 years ago. The distance from St Louis to Kansas City shrank quite a bit, and I found a new best friend (well second best friend. I married my best, best friend). In a very short period of time Bill and I reconnected like only brothers can. I remember as a kid, laying on the bunk beds, having great conversations before we dozed off – some were serious, others were laugh out loud hysterical. Today we have similar conversations; many times they are serious deep. Other times they are crazy funny. Always they are memorable. In the course of the last two years, I have learned a great deal about my brother, the adult. He is a man of tremendous kindness and generosity. He is a man of great faith. He is a man with unconditional love for his boys. He is man of integrity. Most importantly, he is man I am proud to call my brother and my friend.

And then one year ago, I believe that it was exactly one year ago this weekend, we first met the woman that he described to me as someone special. I soon found out how special she is. She quickly figured out that to make in this family, you have to be able to dish it out. Amy can take care of that like no one’s business.  Since then I have found that, each time we get together, I see why exactly why Bill fell in love with her. She is, indeed, a very special lady.

And so today I am honored, I am privileged, and I am truly touched to raise my glass in honor of two very special people. The brother who for the last year has told me about this amazing woman he has come to know and love, and to that woman, who has chosen him to share a wonderful life. Bill and Amy, I wish that every day be filled with years of happiness. I hope that every moment is full of a lifetime of blessings. May this be the first chapter in a wonderful romantic story (not the drippy, sappy Harlequin romance novel with Fabio on the cover, but maybe more like the Princess Bride with action, adventure, and of course, true love).  To Bill and Amy, may God forever bless your love, your lives, and your marriage. Cheers!