Filler

So Erika had a school assignment to compose some poetry. One of them was autobiographical. I did not like much of the tenor of the poem, but especially took exception to these lines:

My parents named me Erika.

Not planned or picked out special,

Really.

After I read it I had to disagree. Because talking is kind of a pain right now, I thought I’d better write it down. I guess it is somewhat personal but this entire blog is kind of personal so what’s the harm? Here is the short letter I wrote to her:

OK Erika, here’s the thing – I know that your teacher doesn’t care about this, and the poem is fine for the assignment, but I just have to say something. The part that I read makes it sound like you were just some kid that happened to be born to us. Like it was no big deal, just another kid. “What shall we name her?” “I dunno; it doesn’t matter. It’s a girl? How about, I don’t know, Erica? But with a K just because, I don’t know, what the heck?” “Yeah, and to be cute we’ll have her middle name be ‘Kay.’ No meaning there, just another name. Besides, she’s just some middle child; she’ll get lost in the shuffle.”

I don’t think you realize what a monumental event your birth was to us. Not just because of the health scare either. From the day was found out we were expecting, to the thrill of learning it was a girl, to your birth, through your illness, and to your homecoming and next 13 years, it has been a joy beyond description. I like to think of myself as a writer and I can’t even find the words. Sure, we already had two kids, but still,  your soft brown eyes and pleasant disposition were so heart-wrenchingly precious. It doesn’t matter that you are not the oldest, or the youngest. You will always hold a very special and very large part of our hearts.

Then tonight we we’re having ice cream pie and I let Natalie choose her slice first. Erika protested this and asked why. With a wink I said, “Because she is our favorite.” Erika smiled, knowing I was teasing. Natalie smiled too, hoping I wasn’t. I continued, “You see, we have a first-born, a baby and a boy.” Ryan then chimed in, “Yeah Erika, you’re just filler.”

It was hilarious, mainly because the idea is so preposterous. My little Eebie is one of my favorites; she knows that.

Reminiscing

Kara and I were recently looking at photo albums and reflected again on how time just slips by so seamlessly. It’s funny, we cannot “time travel” forward or back, and while the future is hard to imagine, the past is so tangible it is hard to forget. Ryan’s high-pitched voice and endearing lisp and Natalie’s little Buddha-belly are so fresh in my memory; it’s hard to admit that those days are gone.

I really enjoyed my days as a father to young children; no regrets. However, with the perspective of being a father of teens, there are a few things that I might have done differently. For example, I would have taken the time to really teach them that the phrase “Work before Play” is not just a handy family saying for small kids on a Saturday morning, but a principle for living. It is applicable to yard work, cleanliness, homework, scouting, and should be self-enforced.

I would have wrestled more with my son and given more “horsey rides” to my girls. I did these things, often, but I think I would have done more.

I would have planted more, harvested more, gone on a few more donut runs and been more creative with Play-Doh.

I would have spent less time on rules, more time on principles.   Less time defining the “line” between acceptable and unacceptable behavior; more time inspiring greatness through purity, modesty, and virtue. This would make “the line” irrelevant. (I don’t know how, but I would try.)

I would have spent more time caressing their little heads and showing affection. I doted on them when they were small, a lot, and the innate desire to show them affection has not waned, but they resist it now. I didn’t need photo albums to remind me that I miss that.

Outing

Friday night was the Fathers and Sons camp out. Ryan has not shown much interest in going the last few years, but I figured the he wanted to go, I would go notwithstanding my limitations. Why couldn’t I sleep in a tent?  I have a lot of strange problems, but I have no prohibition against eating breakfast burritos.

It was for the whole stake and Ryan was cast in a skit by his leaders so he wanted to go, but for the evening only.  It was only about thirty minutes away so I was game.

Unfortunately, we had to park some distance from where our ward was congregated, maybe 100 yards.  Once we reached them Ryan found a friend and disappeared. It was then that I realized I’d left the folding chairs in car. Not only did I not want to trek back there, Ryan had the keys. I stood visiting for about 30 minutes, which is longer than I thought I could. Finally I asked a friend to call Ryan and have him return. He did and before long I had the chairs. It wasn’t an emergency because I could have just sat on the ground. It might have been a little weird with seven men all standing but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

The next challenge was the restroom. It was in a building down the road, about 300 yards in the opposite direction. When I had gone about half way I thought maybe walking that far wasn’t a good idea but what choice did I have? It is impossible to describe, but I'll try.  Each step is no big deal but as I walk, my body temperature slowly rises and the nerve signals to my legs and feet are diminish. It takes a lot of concentration.

I made it, and back, which kind of surprised me. I would not have guessed I could walk that far, unaided, over uneven ground no less. I should have remembered to bring my walking stick!  By the time I got back I was rather unsteady. I did my best to be inconspicuous and eventually found my chair.

I rested for a few minutes; my feet were very hot, with socks and shoes on, and I was generally warm. I guess I’m just not cut out for much in the great outdoors anymore.

The sun was setting and the program would be starting soon.  Unfortunately, it was back near the restroom. I couldn’t. Fortunately Ryan was nearby so I had him help me back to the car, where I waited for him to do his skit (barefoot with the a/c blasting.)

So, it was clearly the worst F&S experience I’d had, but what did I expect? We were not staying the night and I have real limitations and I cannot ignore them or be unprepared.

It did bring back many fond memories of past outings.  I only hope that my son remembers the good ones more than the one where he had to help his dad back to the car.

Silver lining?   There are lots.  I have a son, we have many "good ones" to remember, and although I was unsteady, miserably warm, and uncomfortable for a spell, I didn't fall, injure myself, or create a spectacle.  Life is good.  (Also, I was soundly sleeping in my bed when at 2:00 a.m. there was a terrible thunderstorm that basically washed out the camp; I didn't have to deal with that!)