The response so far on my last post has been very touching, and I am blessed to have so many folk concerned for me. I did want to clear up, though, that the post wasn't meant to indicate any kind of spiritual malaise or depression—the opposite, in fact, is true.
I am gaining the abilities of which I speak: taking on woodworking projects, wilderness treks, home repair and the like. I'm proud of that goofy little side table I built, and the step, and the work area I made for myself to work on them (though I will remember next time to take down the awning before it snows...). When I took dad out on the "forced death march" last year, there was a bonding there that there hadn't before, because I wasn't feeling either useless or intimidated. The old man showed me a few things, and I showed him a few things. He coached me in fly fishing; I showed off my new stove and tarptent skills.
There are always, I think, issues with fathers and sons—there's no way to avoid the masculine difficulties of competition and the human difficulties of personality differences. My father is a charger: when a problem presents itself, he tackles it. His motto has always been that no one will ever tell him there's something he can't do. That arose from his own being and upbringing. On the other hand, I'm a retreater: when a problem presents itself, I avoid it. He's had to learn to reign in on some things; I've had to learn to how to step out. And that process is happening.
The post was only my musings on why this seemed to be taking up such a big chunk of my time and brainpower lately. I suppose if there are any regrets they are just that I took so long to recognize and seek these skills. I like (in general) who I am and where I am. Sure, I'd like a clearer memo about where I'm headed, but I'm learning to enjoy the journey and content to trust that God will use every ounce of these experiences to His own glory in my life somewhere.
So many thanks for the interest and care shown, and your prayers are always much appreciated, but I am well and happy to be gaining some small wisdom on my path.
4 comments:
How do I start to tell you how precious you are to me, boy? Let me begin by telling the story of your near demise over a piece of red delicious apple ( I am still averse to the genus and prefer granny smith or Fuji to this day). You had bitten off, quite literally, more than you could chew. After several minutes of anxious recalling of the Heimlick and other maneuvers, including the English nanny "throw the child face down over your knee and give it a good whack between the shoulder blades", the piece finally came forth. By this time your red hair, white limbs, and blue face could barely move, though it seemed quite patriotic in retrospect.
We took you to the doctor who assured us there would be not lingering ill effects or brain damage (you are the best judge of both at this point).
But two things happened that day that shaped my interaction with you. I was so distraught at the thought of losing you that I told your mother that if it was necessary, "I'll stay home with him every day to make sure he's safe!" Your mother calmed me down and suggested, as she does quite frequently and appropriately, that you had to be free to grow up without someone holding your hand.
She was right, of course, but I never let a day go by without telling you "I love you", even to this very moment.
I also determined to be the best father I could be, even with my limited skills and abilities. There are so many times that I specifically sought you out to ask you if you wanted to learn how to change the oil or stain the deck or a thousand other things you had no interest in... just in case you did.
When you did find an avocation that caught your fancy, I searched high and low to learn those skills you wanted to be your "apprentice mentor" until someone else could show you even more clearly... and correctly. Thus I earned the title "Tony the tour guide" from the boys in the scout troop. It wasn't always easy staying one step ahead of you, but it was always rewarding.
Then there was the day you graduated from high school when I confronted you in your room. I told you that I had striven to be the forerunner in all you did because I wanted you to try your very best to keep up. But it was now my turn to step aside and let you take the lead... I could only hold you back from your chosen course and timing.
Don't think it has been easy, watching you make changes that I disagreed with... but I don't think I ever let you know that. But they were and are your choices. There are so many skills and attributes that you have attained that I would never have known interested you, nor could I have achieved your level of competency (there's that word) in.
But most importantly, I have found in you a dear and bosom friend in whom I have complete confidence (even if you try to do me in from time to time in the great out of doors).
I have few "true" friends in which I choose to spend my limited time. You are at the top of that list. I glory in your marvelous writing and am literally awed by you creativity, especially in the murder mysteries you create. Your boundless energy in grading, being a good father and provider, and still having the balance of a world of playfulness with you children inspires me.
If you never know an Arkansas speed wrench from a PVC pipe cutter I couldn't care less. But, my friend, Michael, if you ever want to know about bolt cutters or widgets I'd most enjoy sharing some time with you.
After all, that's what friends are for.
Dad
Do I have the best family, or what? I love you both tons and tons--thanks for making me tear up a little tonight.
God is good to us.
Miss you all, for so, so many good reasons,
The Daughter and Sisti-ugler
My goodness, you Slussers are a brave people. Thanks for sharing your family therapy. Thou art healthy.
sniff. Would that every man have a dad like yours. Our world would be a tremendous place, indeed.
TM
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