Growing up was a lot of fun. When you are younger you could do so many cool things, run across the water (it seemed like I could at least), and you always swore you would never turn into your parents. Well, I’m here today to chronicle 10 things that I no longer think are “cool”. And now I get to explain to a child why the same things I used to think are cool are in fact, decidedly uncool.
Waking up Dad with a wet washcloth.
Jumping on Dad while he is lying down.
Yelling loudly in the back of the car for no reason.
Hitting myself in the face.
Lying really still and pretending not to hear people talking to me.
Throwing things near expensive electronics.
Asking to read the same book over, and over, and over, and over, and over again.
Grandparents who load up their grand kids on sugar before sending them home.
Singing the same song over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and OVER again.
Asking to tell someone a secret… then yelling in their ear.
To my parents -> I’m sorry! (Although part of me suspects they are putting the kids up to this.)
Goodbyes are hard. We all deal with them differently. Some of us like to down play them, some like to ignore them, some like to lament them long before they ever happen. Over the next 5 months I’ve got two big good byes coming up. I’m not sure if knowing they are coming makes them easier or harder. Combined they represent 36 years of relationships spanning both my personal life and my professional life.
The milestone coming up in September will undoubtedly be the easier goodbye. It’s only a 4 year relationship ending. I’m not sure when I’ll get to say goodbye face to face, hopefully this summer, but we both know the end is coming. Thankfully there’s little chance of running into each other after it’s over. But that doesn’t remove the fact that since inception I have been involved nurturing, growing, leading, and sustaining over the past 4 years. Saying good bye now is turning over control to someone else to make the decisions they see fit and to admit I’m no longer in a driver’s seat. I’ve been visiting less and less over the past year, but it still feels raw. Hopefully I’ll get to say goodbye face to face over this summer.
The harder goodbye still has an unknown timeline but is expected in the next 2 to 5 months. How do you say good bye to memories that span as long as you can remember, all the major milestones of your life and your kids’ lives,? How can that be easy? Where do you start? It will be all the harder given the fact that this is just minutes away from where I live, not in a different state. Reminders are everywhere.
Now before someone cries foul, let me explain a little bit more about each of these good byes. The first is a computer system (large Windows domain with associated components and peripherals) I designed, procured, built, and configured. It was many long hours getting it ready to be deployed, while working in varying environments to get it done. The system was shipped out in a blizzard. There are many unique aspects to the whole thing that make the good bye harder. The support is transitioning over to the system owner, a required next step. Yet that doesn’t make it feel easier. I’m trying to arrange an onsite visit/inspection to be with it one more time.
(Anyone currently judging me for a personal attachment to electronics a) don’t know me very well; and b) don’t pour their heart and soul into the projects they work on).
The second good bye is to my childhood home. My parents are moving out into a retirement community and will need to sell it. It’s been great to live near where both myself and my wife grew up. My kids have climbed the same trees I climbed as a child. We have celebrated Christmas in the same place I used to. The memories have been passed on. And yet it’s not easy to say good bye to a place with that many memories.
How will I handle these good byes? I can’t say for certain until the time comes. I try not to get caught up on the future. The work one will likely come and go, ultimately lost in the shuffle of continuing projects. It is inevitable for someone with a career as varied as mine to have to leave behind a project in order to tackle the next one. I’ll try to organize a celebration to recognize the past 4 years of hard work, and then turn around and do something new.
Saying good bye to my childhood home is likely hard because it feels like saying good bye to my childhood, to the memories I harbor, to what it is that makes up who I am. What’s likely to happen is I take some time to walk around the place and remember. Then take those memories and treasure them up in my heart. I need to remind myself I’ve already said good bye to my childhood in one sense (I’m an adult with kids), but in another sense it will never leave me (it helped make me who I am today and my wife reminds me I’m a 12 year old who shaves many times.).
In both cases I’ll raise a glass to freedom, memories, successful projects, and continued life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Raise one with me.
Last night my suburban wife and I attended a wedding. Having been married for 8 years, with kids for 5 of those 8 years, attending a wedding of this sort was both a shock to the system and a great reminder.
The Shock
First, it was a shock to the system. It was by no means a bad wedding. The food and drink were great, and the couple put on a great party. It just felt very foreign to us. I’m sure you’re familiar with the feeling. “This life used to be normal, but somehow it feels off”. Not in a bad way, just off.
The bride and groom are 2 years younger than my wife. A 2 year difference can be minimal, or it can be momentous. When those two years include kids, job changes, a mortgage, etc, it was momentous for us. Not only did it start later than we normally do anything (constrained to the routines of small children), but it’s been a long time since we had the opportunity to choose to do late night events simply because we wanted to.
Picture it this way: When you are in college, your life feels normal. You’re going through it day after day. Whatever the groups, parties, or identities you join and craft, it’s normal. 10 years later, few people live the same lifestyle. Not only that, but if you put them in the same situations, it feels a bit foreign. And as a society, we believe this is both true and a good thing. If someone still acts like they are in college 10 years later, we normally see a maturity issue at play.
And so it was with us last night. We were in the room, partaking of the wedding celebration, but it just felt a little bit foreign.
The Reminder
But also, the wedding was a great reminder. At times it feels like I’ve been married forever. I can remember the period of time between getting married and having kids and having a double income and no kids (DINK if you will). I can remember before we were married and, despite working on a masters degree, having plenty of free time to do what I wanted. But those times feel like a lifetime away. Gone are the days of traveling the country to play sports. Gone are the days of having a healthy restaurant budget each month. Gone are the days of choosing to get up and go somewhere on the weekend for no reason whatsoever.
Sitting through the wedding, we were presented with someone else’s vision for what a wedding should look like, and that, in turn, presented us with the things we liked better about ours. This is not to say that ours was better, simply that ours was ours. From the venue, to the officiant, to the music, to the time of day, these are all things that we made difference choices that felt more like us. The joys of that day, the blur that it was, but also the points that are crystal clear when our memories that we made.
In conclusion, it was great to attend the wedding, but also to be reminded that we are at a different stage of life, further down the road, and to be happy and content with that.
Suburban Fatherhood 