A couple days ago a very good friend shared with me that he was about ready to leave the house with his wife and drive their son off to college.
After congratulations to them I shared some remembrances as well.
It was a bittersweet mix for me; mostly good all the way around.
The next day I read Matthew Berry who writes for ESPN.
He was giggling about watching an 8mm film from when he was 3.5 years old.
His parents had kept the movies for forty years in an attic in a shoe box.
He watched the films of him
“doing typical kid stuff: riding down my driveway on a scooter, feeding ducks, playing catch while wearing a sweet Steve Austin “Six Million Dollar Man” T-shirt. Running around at a park and riding his dad’s shoulders.”
But mostly, he noticed he was
smiling … all the time.
Carefree.
That got me thinking about my 5 and 8 year old girls. It was daddy this and daddy that, smiles, laughter, wrestling and screaming.
No cynicism. No cell phones. No deadlines. Little idea that we were up against it financially.
They are now 25 and 28.
So I sent a note to another very good pal who has three little ones under six and shared my thoughts.
He responded by saying he already missed them.
My response was “I get it, completely.”
I also shared that I was not sure it was going to get any easier but that good times are ahead.
One thing that has become clear to me (within my family unit) as my kids aged and wanted additional “separation” was that they have never gone too far away emotionally.
I adopted a ‘blind trust of love’ attitude.
I knew they were as _all in_ as I am, even if they didn’t know it yet.
Today I am reasonably sure that if they are challenged as adults a portion of the little kid in them still finds comfort in their dad and mom; if we listen and don’t make them feel uncomfortable.
I seek to make it natural for my 25 and 28 year old to lay their head on my chest or their mother’s lap.
When it happens with my girls it matches the rewards I got from my 8 and 5 year olds.
I am not one to miss out by doing air kisses on the cheek or faux hugs.
We are an unabashed physical bunch. Lots of “I love you”.
I kissed my daddy on the lips until the day he died; and kissed him when I shut his eyes as he passed.
I am never not daddy. They are never not my babies.
Dr. Kevin Purcell, DC. Dedicated to serving others …