A Good Dad Had A Great Pop

harbarger theory: Dad are important

I may be living in denial, but I think I'm a pretty good dad. I sure hope so, because I like being a dad more than anything else in life. Heck, I like being a dad even more than ice cream! Even more than GREAT ice cream!!! That's. A. LOT!!!

Not that I have blindly copied his way of parenting ... Not that I haven't made mistakes ... Not that I think he DIDN'T make mistakes ... Not that anybody is perfect ...

But ... a LARGE reason why I have any success as a dad is because of Pop. He was a strong man who was tender, true and tough. He was tough enough to do the right thing. He was true enough for us to depend upon him, no matter what. He was tender enough to be loving and affectionate to Mom, to me, to my family.

Pop was a REAL MAN.

-- He loved me unquestioningly and without reserve. Because of that, I now have an understanding of God's unconditional love.

-- He led naturally. Because of that, I have learned what it means to lead a church.

-- He was faithful to all that was important. To Mom. To us. To his work. To his church. To his community. To God. Because of that, I have learned what fidelity means.

-- He laughed easily. He loved well. He enjoyed life. Because of that, I know how to live a good life.

It's Father's Day. Pop's been gone now a bit more than 7 months and I ache most days because of the grief. My heart is breaking as I write this. But, I am the man that I am and the dad that I am in large part because of the man he was and the dad that he was. I am my father's son and I am ... oh, so proud of being so.

I am thankful that I had a great father. Pop, I miss you and I love you. I live everyday living up to your standards.

Happy Father's Day!

Joel

A Page Has Turned!

harbarger theory: you raise your kids to have wings and darned if they won't use `em!

Yesterday and this morning, we moved almost all of Molly's (our daughter) stuff to the garage in order to stage it for loading a U-Haul truck to take her and (almost) all of her wordly goods to Portland, OR. Then, about 10:30am, she drove off to meet up with some friends in Columbia, MO, where she went to college (maybe for the last time is a very long time).

This makes me sad. As I reflected upon that, it occurred to me that, as long as her stuff was crammed into "her" room (although she has never "lived" here, but only stayed here), there was this illusion of us having a live-in daughter. But, not now. She's gone. I miss her, already.

It also brings up the pain of our son being gone (probably forever) since he moved to California when he was just out of High School and probably won't be moving back, either. I've always missed him, but it was not as poignant since we still had the potential of Molly. He's gone. I've missed him for years.

I guess we are OFFICIALLY empty-nesters. I'd have to say that I don't like it. Not one little bit. I love being a dad. I love interacting with my kids regularly. Sure, I can talk to them anytime with cell phones and texting and e-mail and the interwebz, but ... I can't sit in the living room and drink a cup of morning tea or coffee with them and talk face-to-face. And that's my fave way to talk with anybody.

So ... a page has completely turned. Our kids are both gone and, unless something unexpected happens, they will not be moving back in. I miss it already.

Sure, it can be exciting for Wendy and me to make this next transition, but for right now, I'm just grieving my loss.

I always wanted my kids to be strong, independent, hard-working and happy. They are certainly all of the above. It just stinks that they are doing that two or three thousand miles away from me. I miss hugging my babies.

Nate ... I love you & I miss you!

Molly ... I love you & I miss you!

Pops

harbarger theory: you raise your kids to have wings

and darned if they won't use `em!