knoxpyphp.org

DATELINE: IRVINE, CA…Expectant as well as new dads can rest easy – now there’s a special “how to” guide written just for fathers. Greg Bishop, the author of Hit the Ground Crawling and founder of Boot Camp for New Dads, a non-profit orientation program for fathers-to-be, operating in more than 260 hospitals, clinics, schools, fire stations and churches around the country, has just released a second book entitled Crash Course for New Dads: Tools, Checklists and Cheat Sheets.

Written for new fathers and based upon input from thousands of men in the Boot Camp for New Dads program, Crash Course for New Dads is the ultimate fatherhood guide book. Offering cheat sheets, checklists and tools for the new dad, this book helps men become acclimated to their new role as fathers. Crash Course for New Dads teaches new dads how to better cope with the challenges of fatherhood and their new family and provides the tools needed for new dads to build a strong foundation for a lifelong positive relationship with their child.

Research from Princeton University has shown that “birth is a magical moment” and men are most receptive to information on establishing good habits as dads in the months surrounding the birth of their babies. Crash Course for New Dads provides men with critical fatherhood information in a format that is very user friendly – created by men, for men.

Below are highlights of what is included in Bishop’s new fatherhood book:

• Childbirth Education Coaching Guide

• What you Need for the Hospital and How to Handle an Emergency Birth.

• The First Days at Home

• 10 Adventures for 0 to 3 Months

• Basic Milestones for Dads

• Great Ways to Bond with your Baby

• Sleeping like a Baby and a Troubleshooters Guide to a Crying Baby

• Keeping Your Baby Safe

• Strategies for Creating Balance between Work and Family

• Issues that you DON’T need to worry about…and those that you DO.

• Strategies for When Your Time is Short

• How to Support the New Mom

• Medical Concerns

• Infant First Aid for Choking and CPR

• Child Care Selection Guideline

• Creating Family Traditions and Memories

• Preparing for the Future

Published by Dads Adventure, Crash Course for New Dads ($14.95+S/H) will be available in June 2008 at www.dadsadventure.com. All royalties support the non-profit Boot Camp for New Dads program.

“One of the greatest things that dads can do is to realize just how important their role is in their child’s life and that it expands far beyond being a good provider. Being a dad can be challenging, but when armed with knowledge and the right tools, new dads will not only step up to the plate – they’ll hit it out of the park,” noted Bishop.

About Hit the Ground Crawling

Hit the Ground Crawling, also published by Dads Adventure, provides practical, hands on tips based on over 16 years of working with over 150,000 new fathers. The 300 page book offers the wisdom of author Greg Bishop, the founder of Boot Camp for New Dads, an MBA from Stanford University, brother of 12 and father of four, along with the collective wisdom and real life advice of thousands of men who participated in Boot Camp for New Dads programs.

Boot Camp for New Dads

Celebrating their 18th year, Boot Camp for New Dads is nationally acclaimed as the “Best Practice” for preparing men to be fathers and has been named a U.S. Navy Model Program.

With more than 4.1 million births last year alone (National Center for Health Statistics), and approximately 1.5 million men becoming new dads every year, it’s more important than ever for fathers to realize that being a “good provider” is only part of the very central role they have in their children’s lives.

For more information about Boot Camp for New Dads, visit www.bcnd.org. To arrange an interview with Greg Bishop, please contact sdubin@prworkzone.com, (781) 582-1061.

Technorati Tags: Cheat, Checklists, Course, crash, Dads, Sheets, Tools

For us, holidays were a bad memory. This time in our life became something that held you back from doing things like other kids. They didn’t face the turmoil you were going through.

I remember it to this day. Coming up from the lower floor of the house, I notice mom running down the stairs to the same floor I was headed. My sister was not noticeable around then, being in her room. “Their coming to get us”. Mom said, her voice trembling and the look of fear in her face. “Who”? I asked, not knowing what to do. “The police, their coming to get us”…Again her voice trembled and mom running back up the stairs she came from and into her room. I was terrified. Mom was the same way.
That day rings loud and clear for me. My heart sinks as I realize today, mom was suffering from a mental breakdown. My mother was gone. Yes, she was there in the physical being, but departed mentally.

Later dad told us it was a sickness. Mom was indeed taken, but not by the police. She was taken to a special hospital in a little town far from where we were. As I recall this, I try to think about the holidays at this time. Then I shake my head, knowing that for us, till mom got well there was no holiday.

Dad worked hard to get us ready during this time mom was gone. We had friends who would take care of my sister while I was as school. I would come home to their house and wait till dad came and we would go home. Then I would cook dinner for us. The house would be lonely with no mother to comfort or guide us. No mom to wrap their arms around us and understand our hurts or problems. Dad was there, but an important part of our family was not. I cannot tell you how much this had an effect on me as a young man growing up. I became withdrawn and passive. Not getting involved in much of anything. I strove to help dad and my sister. Time was the enemy, for late at night, in my bed, I knew I would face another day without mom.
As time went on, thanksgiving and Christmas came. Certain times when dad could get off, we would take a weekend to visit mom. The drive to go see mom was terrible for young minds. We would sit in the backseat of the car and drive endlessly it seemed. The hospital where mom was seems so far. It indeed was. The trip alone was six hours or so. Then with kids and stopping for various reasons the trip seemed so long. We would stay in a motel in the town where mom was. At first the visits actually meant for Dad to go inside and we kids had to wait in the car. Then at the proper time, mom would look out from a window with bars on them and wave at us kids. Later on, mom would be able to come and visit with us. But that never lasted long. She was much thinner now. Mom smiled and hugged us, but then she was gone. Time had come; we would pack up and leave that town which held my mother hostage. That was my holidays, painful. The gifts, the trees meant nothing. For a short while they would pacify my young mind and spirit. Then drifting, my heart would sink.

During those months I would try to help my sister and dad cope. Doing our best, we pulled together. All the while at school it was a nightmare. No one understood me. I was harassed by other kids. I was lonely and withdrawing more daily. I had one friend and at times we had fun. My sister being so young I never fully came to know how much an impact this had on her. Later on in life, she would reveal to me the heartaches she had come to know during this time.

After the holidays, birthdays came and went. The same thing would go on. Drive forever and visit for a short while, then come home. Without mom. Then one day, mom was released. The doctors, dad said had helped mom. The time of any person’s life, as least mine, was when mom came home.

You see, mom was sick allot during my life growing up and even into adulthood. She faced many problems, although she did better than most with her sickness. I have spent allot of years without her. For me, my mother was always sick; this created a hardship on everyone. But, for her, mom desperate fight to win this battle would eventually take her home to be with the Lord at an early age.
Even though this battle of mom affected us all, for me Thanksgiving and Christmas was about having her there. Together we would celebrate and give thanks to the Lord. Without her, it seemed a dry and distant time. Devoid of reasoning. I have asked myself a thousand times why. In the last years of her life, there was only one time in five years I remember that I could hold a conversation like we use too. This talk with my mom lasted only five to ten minutes, and then in a flash she was gone. Her physical body was there, but she was somewhere else. I don’t know why, tears come as I think of this. My heart still sinks.

But, oh the joy of the holidays when mom was well. I can remember my grandparents coming in from the farm. We would all get together and enjoy our blessings. Pray over the food, give thanks to the Lord and dive in. The golden turkey, the oyster stuffing was the best, home backed rolls, and the smell of the pies whiffed through the house. The table was set with the finest silver mom had. The table cloth was one that had been crocheted. A white one. Upon this went the fixings.

During this time, it seemed time stood still for a moment. I can still see it, like a picture out of a painting. I see the table, grandmother, mom, dad, grandpa and us kids. The house is full of happiness.
Christmas time was the same thing. Plenty of food, goodies, presents, and the tree. Lights, tinsel, pine, needles, and the special place below the tree. That was my place. I would snuggle under the tree and look up from the base of it. Peering along the tree trunk up through the branches to the top of the tree. Along the way was bulbs glittering and blinking. I would lay there with all the lights off in the living room where the tree was. Then take in a big whiff of pine, I would look up and enjoy the moment.

That was the holidays. This was the special time and moment in anyone’s life when blessings and knowing God has been good to you.

But, when mom was sick, this scene was not the one I had known. During that time I cannot remember the thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. Nor the presents or any fun. I cannot think of anything good that went on. I don’t even remember being particularly blessed or thinking God had been good to me. In fact, I couldn’t believe the Lord would do that to us.

Over time, as I think back now. The Lord was good to us during that time. I may not remember the holiday, but there was a family. Short of one person, yes, but struggling to make it. Just one more day, one more hour, one more dinner, one more thanksgiving, one more Christmas, one more new year, one more birthday. That’s right, just one more. I lived that for the whole time mom was sick.

I thank the Lord today I had a dad that stuck with mom during those years. I told him so. Dad looked at me and said “I stayed with your mother all those years because of my conscience, and that one day I would have to face the Lord”. Dad later admitted to me that during those years mom’s sickness consumed him so much, he put the Lord on the shelf.

Today, this family is short one member. Mom is gone. The holidays don’t quite have that sparkle when I was a kid and mom was there. The turkey, the table, grandma and grandpa and the whole holiday adventure is not the same. But, we are going on. We are very thankful to the Lord for His blessings. Times have been tough. They are for many people today. I have two grown children, a grandchild, and a son-in-law. I have a great wife of 32 years and my dad, well he is great. I love them all. Sure I miss mom, but the holiday this year will be a good one. For the Lord has seen me and my family through much. I know when we carve that turkey this year; mom will be looking on and smiling. She always wanted the part that “went over the fence last”…You know what that is the tail… I will just smile back and think Mom; this one is for you…

Technorati Tags: Tears, Thanksgiving

(and how they can’t raise kids)

by Whitney Brennan

For some TV shows, it takes more than one to raise a single dad’s kids. I mean, we all know that men can’t raise children. Right?

Well, if you look at television shows, the answer is that they can—just not on their own. So, as the stereotype goes, parenting comes naturally to women, and men need help. And in some cases, the help comes in the form of a wilder, more rebellious male. Not only can the seemingly responsible guy not take care of kids on his own, but he enlists the help of someone even less capable than himself. Bumbling fathers make for great entertainment, but what does this say about men as single parents?

How many people does it take to raise a single dad’s kids? On “Everwood” (now on the long list of cancelled shows), single dad Andy relies on at least three others to nurture his son and daughter. His neighbor Nina, his doctor friend Harold and Harold’s mother all dispense advice to a parentally challenged Andy. Occasionally, older son Ephram steps in.

And, surprisingly, today’s shows about single fathers aren’t that much different from the ones we watched years ago.

Remember “Full House”? It was a half-hour comedy that ran from 1987 to 1995. Danny Tanner’s wife is killed by a drunken driver, so he must raise his three daughters. Danny’s best friend Joey and his brother-in-law Jesse move in with the Tanners and end up being two extra dads for the girls. Jesse later marries Danny’s talk show co-host Rebecca, who also helps with raising the kids. Danny is clearly the most capable of the group, yet he still needs help. And help comes from aspiring comic Joey, who wears cartoon character pajamas, and from Uncle Jesse, a rock musician (allegedly) who wears black leather and is very interested in women.

“My Two Dads,” a show that ran from 1987 to 1990, was about two men raising one child—hence the title. When teenager Nicole’s mom dies, she leaves her in the custody of Nicole’s father, whom Nicole has never met. However, Mom also leaves Nicole in the custody of another former boyfriend, Joey. The strange decision to leave a daughter with two former boyfriends upon death is not the point—although it’s probably the reason for the show’s short life span. The point is that one caretaker isn’t enough when it’s a man. Michael, Nicole’s father, needs the help of Joey and a female judge—who oversees the upbringing—to raise his daughter. Joey is a carefree artist who has many lady friends. And this message that single dads can’t fly solo continues to pervade TV.

“Two and a Half Men” is about two men, Alan and his brother Charlie, who raise Alan’s son Jake—most often on weekends. Alan’s ex-wife Judith usually keeps their son during the week. Grandma Evelyn also helps with the parenting. The wild Charlie is busy living the life of a wealthy bachelor when his brother comes to live with him in his beach house. Charlie becomes a caretaker of sorts, but parents Jake in a way that only a stereotypical male would.

In the series’ pilot episode, Charlie bonds with 10-year-old Jake by letting him play at his poker games and taking him to meet girls. In a season two episode, Jake is in danger of getting suspended from school for giving his teacher the finger. Charlie tries to save the day by wooing the teacher. Although Jake’s father Alan is not as wild as Charlie, in one episode, Alan asks a woman to marry him after knowing her only three days. Charlie, the brother who usually causes the trouble, is the sensible one in this situation and tries to convince Alan that he shouldn’t marry.

When Judith goes on vacation in a season two episode, weekend dad Alan becomes full-time dad. He finds it difficult to take care of Jake and forgets to pick his son up from soccer practice. When Alan discovers he has to go to the Internal Revenue Service, Charlie must take care of Jake—and he’s not any better at parenting. The brothers’ antics are entertaining, but as dads, they are each a beer belly away from being a couple of Homer Simpsons.

When the show is not a comedy, the wilder, rebellious male surrogate disappears because the stereotype is mainly for humor—but others still help with parenting in dramas. On “Everwood,” Andy must raise his two children when his wife dies in a car accident. He moves to Everwood, Colorado, because his wife had said she’d been there once and it was “‘just like heaven.’” Sure, that’s a good enough reason to pack up two children and move them across the country away from everything they’ve ever known after they’ve just lost their mom. Not a good first single dad move. But it gives oldest son Ephram another reason to hate his dad, which makes for some good father/son shouting matches.

Ephram often parents his younger sister Delia and seems to know her better than his dad does. This is probably because when their mother was alive, neurosurgeon Dad was never home. In one episode, 8-year-old Delia picks out a movie for the family to watch: “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.” Ephram tells his dad that he shouldn’t let her watch it. His dad asks, “Am I missing something?” His son responds, “Eight years of raising her. She can’t watch that movie. It upsets her.” In another episode, Ephram again brings Andy’s poor parenting skills to his attention the Ephram way—with an attitude. His dad asks how things are going with Ephram and his friend Amy, and Ephram tells him that he hasn’t talked to Amy lately. His dad asks, “When did this happen?” Angry teenage son responds, “A while ago. You were too busy being clueless.”

Ephram is not the only person who pitches in with parenting. Andy occasionally seeks help from Edna, an older woman he hired to work for his practice as both nurse and office manager. He also discusses parenting issues with Edna’s son Harold, who is also a doctor and Andy’s business partner. Harold is married and has two children of his own. But Andy most often seeks help from next-door neighbor Nina, who is raising a son on her own. Although Andy has been a parent longer than Nina—since her son is younger than Andy’s oldest—he always asks Nina for advice. She never asks him for parenting advice. Maybe this is because she overhears all of those father/son shouting matches. But what does this say about a man’s ability to raise children? Why do the two single parents not share parenting advice? Why is it that women are supposed to know how to raise kids, but men aren’t?

To compare the portrayal of single moms with single dads, just look at the WB sitcom “Reba.” In the beginning of the series, Reba’s dentist husband of 20 years, Brock, leaves her for his much younger and more blond dental hygienist Barbra Jean, whom he got pregnant. Reba’s 17-year-old daughter, who is recovering from alcoholism, learns she’s pregnant and decides to marry the father. Second daughter Kyra moves in with Brock and Barbra Jean. Reba also deals with her last child Jake moving into adolescence.

Reba confronts issues of single parenting alone. She cannot rely on her ex-husband and his new wife for parental support. Dad tells Kyra to quit school and focus on her music career, and Barbra Jean takes on the “dumb blond” role better than Jessica Simpson. But imagine if the show were about a single dad. Faced with so much dysfunction, he would need at least a next-door neighbor to dispense parenting advice.

What about “Gilmore Girls” (which ended last year, upsetting millions of women the world over). Yes, toward the end of the show’s life span, single mom Lorelai asks for advice on raising daughter Rory, but for almost five seasons, she parents alone. At the end of season five, Rory convinces her boyfriend to steal a yacht for a night of fun, and both end up in jail. Then Rory tells her mom she is dropping out of Yale. Lorelai goes to her parents for advice and then to boyfriend Luke. But “Gilmore Girls” is different from “Everwood” in that Lorelai is portrayed as a very capable single mother. She and her daughter are best friends. Rory makes a few mistakes, as most kids do, and Lorelai seeks advice, as most parents do. But on “Everwood,” Andy consistently has trouble relating to his kids, and he always needs advice on how to raise them.

Progress has certainly been made on TV regarding single dads. To have single dads at all on TV is a step forward. Back in the day, “The Donna Reed Show” and “Leave It to Beaver” depicted the “normal” family as consisting of a mother and a father. So, shows that are more realistic and portray single dads are welcomed. But now we need to see more capable single dads to combat the pesky stereotypes that men aren’t good at raising children and that women are born with a child-rearing gene. Let’s add “good with children” to our culturally defined list of what being a man is. I know there are men who are better at parenting than some women. For example, Will Smith or Pamela Anderson? My money’s on Will.

And think about this: Would TV shows like “My Two Moms” or “Two and a Half Women” ever exist? Of course not. Two women parenting a child is superfluous; one gets the job done.

www.whitneybrennan.com

Technorati Tags: Dads, Single

Dr. Laura wrote her book “In Praise of Stay-At-Home Moms” not to argue or give facts, but to praise the women who sacrifice to make sure their child is influenced with their viewpoint of life’s purpose.

Technorati Tags: moms, Need, Praise, StayAtHome

This is the second in a series of articles based on the groundbreaking best-seller “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” written by Robert Kiyosaki. As stated in the first article, the book compares the mindset of Kiyosaki’s father—who held several degrees and an important position in the government, but struggled financially–, with the mindset of his best friend’s father—who never even finished high school but left his son a financial empire. In his book, Kiyosaki explains that the mindset held by each of these two men, his “poor dad” and his “rich dad”, was largely responsible for each man’s financial destiny.

The following quote by T. Harv Eker, author of “Secrets of the Millionaire Mind”, refers to the concept of a rich person’s mindset: “Rich people have a way of thinking that is different from poor and middle class people. They think differently about money, wealth, themselves, other people, and life.” Kiyosaki expounds this same principle in “Rich Dad, Poor Dad”.

Below you will find seven mayor differences between the “poor dad” and the “rich dad” mentality:

1. The “poor dad” mentality states that your wealth depends on your family of origin. That is, to be rich you have to be born rich. “Rich dad” espoused the view that being rich or poor is something that you learn. You can learn to think in ways that will support you, and you can raise your financial IQ by reading books on finance, talking to financially successful people, and attending seminars and lectures. When you have the right belief system and the necessary knowledge on how to create, build, and protect wealth, you will become rich even if you were not born into a wealthy family.

2. “Rich dad” taught Kiyosaki that he should get a job to learn and to acquire the necessary skills so that he could go on to start his own business. “Poor dad” saw his job as his source of income for life. While “rich dad” taught Kiyosaki to strive to become financially independent, “poor dad” taught him to depend on his employer for his financial well being.

3. When faced with an opportunity, “rich dad” would ask himself: “How can I afford this?” This forced his mind to think and to come up with creative solutions to be able to take advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself. Instead, when presented with an opportunity, “poor dad” would dismiss it by saying: “It’s too bad I can’t afford this.”

4. While “poor dad” stressed scholastic education, “rich dad” always stressed financial education.

5. For “rich dad” the main cause of poverty or financial struggle was self-inflicted fear and ignorance. “Poor dad” blamed the economy and the job market. That is, “rich dad” always took responsibility for himself and felt that he created his circumstances, while “poor dad” often felt like a victim of the outside world.

6. As for risk taking, “rich dad” taught Kiyosaki to learn to manage risk. “Poor dad” taught him that when it came to money, risk was something that should be avoided and to always play it safe.

7. “Rich dad” taught Kiyosaki that failing was simply part of the process and that he should learn from his mistakes and move on. “Poor dad” attached great stigma to failure and was therefore afraid of making mistakes.

Study the seven examples above in order to begin to develop a clear concept of the difference between a rich and a poor mindset. You can find out more on how rich people think by reading books such as those found in the “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” series and by talking to people who have succeeded financially.

Technorati Tags: Mentality, Poor, Rich

To their moms, Team USA athletes will always be kids. Watch this emotional commercial from P&G.

Technorati Tags: Always, Commercial, kids, moms, Their, They'll

Your Mom has a very weighty job, she not only gave birth to you she also has the responsibility of being your Mom. Come on, you didn’t come with an “Operations guide” or “How to manual” she is just left to wing it most of the time. Your Mom really wants what’s best for you and because of that, she sometimes gets a little stressed out. The truth is, Momhood is a strenuous, if not, impossible job at times.

 

How about good old Dad? Dad is just another kid for Mom to take care of. She cooks, washes the clothing, does the shopping and tries to hold the family together as a unit. Dad might be the pillar of the community but Mom is the cement that hold him up.

 

It’s no wonder Mom gets a little cranky when things aren’t going right. She’s on a rollercoaster and can’t get off.

 

It’s important for you to understand Mom has guarded feelings and at times, is easy to upset. There’s an old adage that says; “if Mom is unhappy, everyone is unhappy.” You would do good to never forget the power she wealds. Given your position, it is to your advantage to keep Mom happy and with a few precautions, working on your behalf. She is your link to your future happiness as well as very instrumental in your growth.

 

Never think Mom can’t raise havoc or bring wrath to your life’s experience. I am here to testify that she can and will, if your attitude warrants it. You can’t fight city hall or Mom, but you can use the power of persuasion to soften Mom so she will be more manageable.

 

There are steps you can take to help Mom view you as a asset and keep her working for your well being. Here are ten tips to make yours and Mom’s life more enjoyable.

 

 

 

1. Mom’s have a full plate. Sometimes Mom’s busy schedule causes her to overlook your needs. Clue Mom in with a clever post on the refrigerator door, or her pillow. Mom’s always like a special little note from their child. If done right it will show you care while turning her interest on your needs.

 

2. Get excited. Nothing makes Mom happier than seeing you excited. Even when things are downright boring get excited when Mom comes around. She will think she is doing a superb job raising you and be more apt to be agreeable when you need her attention.

 

3. Start a “book review” club with your friends. Mom will love seeing you interested in reading and host your friends with pleasure. You may just become an expert on some subject Mom also has an interest in.

 

4. Have your friends drop a note once in a while to praise Mom for doing such a good job. Mom loves getting recognition for being a positive role in your life. She needs to know she is number one to you and your friends.

5. Keep your space tidy and clean. Moms hate picking up after thoughtless children. With a tidy living space, you can better organize yourself and have more time to enjoy other activities.

 

6. Admit you need coaching because you have a lot to learn. Ask Mom to teach you how to cook or do something new. Mom is a wealth of information and experience, maybe she would teach you how to make chocolate chip cookies, knit, write a story, or raise flowers.

 

7. Show Mom a few tricks on surfing the Web. It will make her feel good that you shared your expertise and give you a chance to accidentally land on that new outfit you have been looking at.

 

8. Ask just enough questions to keep Mom thinking you really value her contribution to your learning. Mom’s are notorious for giving answers, some you might not want to hear.

 

9. The next time you go shopping with Mom, ask her for shopping pointers. Moms are notoriously famous for their expertise in shopping. She will be proud to hand down her knowledge for your benefit

 

10. Never say you are bored or Mom will put you to work. If she says, “you look bored” claim temporary insanity it may get you off. At least for a while

 

When all is said and done, Mom is the center of the household, even though Dad may think he is. You are the leg that keeps Mom steady. Because of you she is able to focus on the more important things in life, like seeing you are cared for and anticipating your giving her a grandchild. Your future depends on Mom and her willingness to be involved in it. Don’t ever underestimate Mom, she has powers you have not seen . . . yet.

 

Give her the credit she deserves and she will make your life enjoyable in return.

 

Happy Trails

 

Technorati Tags: Deal, kids, Ways

Bruce Leslie Smith 1932-2001

Who was he – my dad?

He was my dad, but he belonged

to many people beyond myself,

and to God most of all.

What was he – my dad?

A teacher, a preacher, a poet –

perhaps a poet most of all.

What made him tick – my dad?

He was a capable academic,

an elegant speaker,

a wordsmith of some renown,

but this river had a source,

and its source was hidden, though never secret –

the hidden presence of Christ within.

‘For me to live is Christ and to die is gain!’

Was that St Paul or my dad?

My dad was an evangelical

who embodied the best of the mystical tradition –

practising the presence of Christ.

Everything was integrated for dad –

praying, breathing, thinking, eating.

He lived that way and he taught that way.

He taught us the philosophy of Socrates

(or Kant or Kung or Kierkegaard?.) but then,

instead of appropriately restricting himself

to dealing with a body of thought, we found that

he had us wrestling with the man behind it!

When he preached, he fooled us into thinking

that he was just dealing with a text, but then suddenly

we found that it was not the text that we were dealing with, but with Christ Himself!

Here was a man who could not speak about Jesus

without also speaking to Jesus. Here was a man who

practised the presence of God.

Who was he – my dad?

He was a workaholic academic who, ironically, failed

most of the university degrees he set out to complete.

He was a human being who fell in love, was married

and was divorced, and who never got over his feelings

of guilt and pain.

He was a father who loved his children,

sometimes inadequately, but many times wonderfully,

and inspired them to try to become decent fathers themselves.

He was a man who had a passion for life –

for music, for art, for the beauty of creation,

for gentle conversation over coffee with friends.

He was a friend of Christ,

who practised the presence of God.

Who was he – my dad?

He was many things to many people.

To me – he was my dad.

I left dad at around midnight. Actually, it could have been an hour either side of midnight. I wasn’t really very aware.

We’d spent the whole evening there with dad – Andy and Rob and me – in his little hospital room. We’d been laughing and joking – remembering old times.

He didn’t seem very ill. The oxygen mask on his face was a bit of a give-away I suppose, but apart from that he seemed pretty much his normal self. The hair was gone, of course – brushed away by the first bout of chemotherapy – but we’d become used to that.

I’d been through much of this before of course, with my mother, over twenty years earlier, but you forget the signs.

Mum died a death by inches as I remember it, and I do remember that. She was only young – still in her thirties I think. I was younger again of course, still a teenager – a terrible age to watch your mother die.

There was so much pain then. The pain of the illness was terrible. The pain of her divorce from dad, all the lost friendships, the unsuccessful love affairs, having her name dragged through the mud, watching her children (and me especially) go off the rails – these things must have been the greater hurt. And there was so much left unsaid!

I guess that there was much to be thankful for in dad’s case. I think we had time to say just about everything there was to say. I can’t think of anything I really regret doing or not doing with dad. And it wasn’t an agonizing death by any means. So why does it hurt so much?

I told dad a risque joke that night – the one about the guy who pisses all over the bar after a bet with the publican. It was an odd thing to be doing on my last night with dad. That sort of thing had never been a part of our relationship, though dad had loosened up considerably over his later years.

He wasn’t old! Sixty-eight years old. That doesn’t seem very old to me. He didn’t look very old – well, not to me. And it’s not as if he’d slowed down much. He was flat out lecturing, preaching and teaching only a few months ago – at the height of his career it seemed. I had optimistically rostered him on to do the preaching at Dulwich Hill this week. We’d kept pushing the appointment back week by week as the release from hospital kept being delayed, but that’s all we had ever been thinking in terms of – delays. Well, perhaps that’s all I would let myself think in terms of.

I couldn’t accept that he was dying. He was still moving about under his own steam. He could still get to the toilet without aid and do all those things that help a man to maintain his dignity under the stress of hospitalisation. His mind was still as sharp as a tack. His wit was undiminished. He was not living and speaking like a man who had only a few hours left to live.

I held his hand. I clung to it. In my mind were all the images of the man who had towered over me like a mighty colossus in my youth.

I remember that time, I must have been only five or six years old, when the garage shutter at St Barnabus’ Broadway dropped on my dad’s head and almost knocked him unconscious. He let out some expletive – ‘Gorn’ I think it was (expletive enough for dad) – and he stumbled about. I remember the horror I felt at seeing this invincible and unflappable figure, my hero and my defender, staggering about and loosing control. I never forgot that terrible image.

I remember the time when dad lost his cool with us. I only remember it happening the once. He was taking us back to mum’s place, only shortly after she had taken us from him. I must have been twelve or thirteen. The three boys – we were all sick as usual. We would contract colds, upset tummies, and allergies by the bucket-load. It was our normal state. Dad made some comment about us being a ‘bunch of cripples’. I remember the pain of feeling that I had let dad down, and a deeper pain, that perhaps dad had let us down. He never said anything like that again.

I remember the climactic day when I beat dad in an arm wrestle. Week by week we would go over to dad’s place, and week by week each of us would take him on in an arm wrestle. I must have been fifteen or sixteen on that mighty day, when finally the tables were finally turned.

I was the oldest of course, so the other boys, while they did their best, didn’t really stand a chance against the big guy. Even so, they took their turns. There must have been a sense of apprehension though when I finally took my position. Week by week it had been getting harder to dad to floor me. Week by week I’d felt him straining ever more greatly to hold me back. Yet I could not have known that this would be the week, the day, the moment! We gripped. We struggled. We sweated. My dad started to turn red. Suddenly he stood up and pulled away in pain. He could take it no longer. It was over – the ritual never to be repeated again.

Rob was always the realist. Before he left the hospital he said to dad ‘I’ll see you in the morning, but if you have to go before then, then that’s OK. It’s been a privilege being your son.” It was a great thing to say. Andy and I were less realistic: “We’ll see you in the morning.”

I decided to stay on at the hospital for a time, while dad went to sleep. Despite the fact that he had explicitly told us to go home and get some sleep, it just seemed like the right thing to do. That was where I wanted to be.

I watched dad go to sleep, and got increasingly comfortable myself. The hospital seemed comfortable. The silence seemed comfortable. Most comfortable of all was the sense I had of being in the right place, doing the right thing – a dutiful son, sitting by his father’s bedside, ready to spring into action if he needed me.

Then he woke up. “What are you doing here? Go home and get some sleep!” “I’ll sleep better if I know that you are sleeping well, dad,” I said rather feebly. Within fifteen minutes I was back in my car, trying to remember my way home.

He should have let us stay. He should have at least let the nurse get us in the morning, when she could see that he was fading fast. “No, no, let them sleep,” he’d said. “They’ll get here later in the morning.” We did get there later in the morning, but the struggle was over before we arrived.

It’s not as if any of us would have been at home sleeping soundly. I stayed up until nearly 4am, sitting at my desk, painting my set of American Civil War action figures. I was up and about again at 6.30am, wondering what I should do. I decided to go back to work on the toy soldiers, though I really wanted to be somewhere else.

I was pouring my time into one figure – a rather dignified looking general with a receding hairline. As I worked on him, I had his hairline recede further and further. I realised I was modelling this figure on my dad.

Perhaps I could take this colourful figurine into the hospital. Dad would probably be amused to see it. I’m sure he’d see the resemblance! I’m sure he would be pleased. Then I remembered my three-year-old coming up to me only the day before: ‘look dad, I painted a picture of you’. I shuddered a little. Then the phone rang, to tell me where I should have been all along.

It was a mighty funeral. It was held in one of the biggest churches in Sydney, and the church was full. There were more bishops floating around than you’d find in half a dozen chess sets, and men and women of note were abounding. The speeches were beautiful. The choir sang. Tributes were given. The rituals were performed. And then we all went home, except for dad.

It was very public. He was a public person of course. Even so, I had to keep reminding myself – this is my dad that I am burying.

And now the public have gone, and we, who knew and loved him best, must go on and do the work of grieving alone. This is always the way of course. I’ve taken over a hundred funerals myself. I know the score. Yet it doesn’t make it any easier.

Why did you have to go dad? Why couldn’t we have spent just a bit more time together? How am I supposed to go on living, dad, now that you are gone?

monday moms – kids kloset consignment sale

Technorati Tags: consignment, kids, kloset, moms, monday, sale

The Ultimate Workout Plan For Busy Dads. Make 75% Commission On A High Demand Product In A Great Niche Market. High Quality Product With Complete Affiliate Section Ready For You To Make Easy Sales! Dad Fitness.

Technorati Tags: Fitness.