Take the time

Roger Smith

Roger Smith

Joined
Oct 22, 2001
Messages
1,049
Gentlemen,

Let me first thank you all for the wit,wisdom and memeories that all of you have given me. You've enabled me to see the errors of my ways ( at times) and I owe all of you a debt that is too great to pay.

After all of the events of the past year, one thing has become increasingly clear: Spend time with the people you love NOW, so you can enjoy them while they are here.

My Dad and I have not had the best relationship growing up. He thought I needed to remove my head from my posterior and grow up. I thought he needed to get off my back. Lots of room for Tyson/Holyfield fights huh? You betcha.

Since then, we've grown to be good friends. Like wine, we've mellowed and matured. Now, we're close and comfortable. I like my first cup of coffee black and then with a 2 teaspoons of whiskey if it's a Saturday. He likes his with sugar to start and then asks me to spice it likewise.

Dad wasn't always there growing up, but we've managed to form a bond that I'm proud of.

My uncle died at at the beginning of the year. Dad misses him more than I ever imagined. Both of us do, in reality. Dad chooses practicality over nostalgia. Always has.

Not now.

Our conversations have become overcast with Dad's concerns about his passing and the lost opportunities/conversations with his brother. Seeing your dad cry is a horrible thing.
His strength, a thing of legend, is laid bare for a moment. His stoicism, a known quantity that you always relied upon, is gone. The rock you've built your life upon is now the clay of his feet.

You realize that the torch has been passed and wonder if you are worthy of the task. I'll never be the equal of my father.

We share the same temper, the same intolerance for bull$#it and more. I don't have the wisdom and understanding that my father does.

Now that I live 4 hours away, the talks on the phone and visits mean more than ever. I soak up every moment, every second, every memory, so that later, I can remember who Dad was/is.
Now that we can't spend mornings drinking coffee on the porch, silently enjoying each others company I miss him more than I imagined.

Things get in the way. One thing I've learned; Take the Time now, you won't have it later. I'm gonna call my dad.

Thanks
 
Hello,
Thanks for putting into words what I always wanted to say.
About time lost,I know have some idea what you mean.My father was killed in a car accident about a year ago. About a month before the accident,I was going to Calgary for a shearing contest,and thought about asking Dad if he would be interested in going,but,it was really late notice and figured I would ask next year. I found out Aug 3 ,04 there is no next year.

Thanks again for message,it is something everyone should take to heart.

shearer
 
Beautiful post, Roger.
I think all fathers and sons go though a bit of that. I know my father and I have. Likewise, i think every son feels that he is not up to par or as much of a man as his father. We can never be our father so we feel that we will never live up to his standards whether they have been thrust upon us or not. Your post means a lot to me as my family in general is going through a milestone year. My grandfather is stepping down from the business. My father will have to take over. I will be filling in parts of both roles, and I am scared to death.
I look at my father now, 50 years of age this past month. Gone is the man that would make me tremble at the rise of his voice. Gone is the man that's physical strength was widespread and well know. Gone is the v-shaped body, the long shoulderlength hair, and steely blue eyes that peered out from his bangs. What is left is the time ravaged man we are all fated to become. A tad over-weight, a back that bothers him more days than not, light blonde hair that has subtlely changed and peppered with dull whisps of gray and is cut to the length exceptable for a man his age. His beefy arms although still powerful are like a fallen tree. Strong, steadfast, but a fraction of what they were. I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is short and brown with eyes to match, but I am him. Same shoulders, same jaw, same steely glare when angry passes like a wave over me. Same physical strength.
I am my father's son. I have his strength. I have his weaknesses. I have more intellect than he does, but I am not the man he is. I am not couragous like he. I love my father in all his faults. You only get one dad, and in his case he has but one blood related son. We have learned that we are bound to each other. I will forever be associated with what he has done with his life, both the powerful and the good and the wicked (Lord knows there is a lot of wicked). He must be confident that his only son, his only child of his flesh, is strong enough to carry the sins of his father and has been raised in manner that will honor him when the time comes that he can no longer honor himself. It is a bond that we will always share, and one that i'm sure we will both never be 100% sure about, but we accept it and we are happy to step up to the challange.
Roger is right. Take the time now to spend it with those you love and cherrish. Life is funny, and not in that ha-ha way. It's warm and fuzzy yet cold and brutal like a microwaved piece of frozen beef.

Jake
 
After a seven year absence from being around my old man we got to talking again because my now long time ex-wife sent him a X-mas card much to my displeasure. She just wouldn't believe me as to how much of a sonofabitch he was. My aunt gave her his address and then my cousin came telling how much he had changed.
Men like my old man never change. I laughed my ass off when my now long time ex-wife discovered that he had lied to her and indeed because of his past history of bladder cancer and incontinence did indeed still wet the bed and ruined our mattress.
She just couldn't believe he would lie to her because he was so nice.:rolleyes:
I bit my tongue many times the week he spent with us in order to be a good son and not make waves.
Then when he told me he was going to send me a self addressed stamped envelope and that he was going to sign my name to it and all I had to do was drop it in the mailbox the alarm bells started going off.
I told him to send the letter and I'd sign it myself, because I wanted to see what the old bastard was up to.
When I got the letter I discovered that he had stationary and envelopes with a letterhead and my address printed as a business and that my house was the physical address of the business and I was the general manager.
And as a business the company had paid him several thousand dollars in three consecutive years, as much as in the 20K range!!!!:mad:
I still have the letter.
When he called to see if I had signed it and had mailed it off I told the bastard that there was no way in hell I'd sign anything that would cause me to commit fraud for him or any other man-jack sonofabitch.
He started crying and said he had lost everything he had ever worked for.
He died soon after and I found out that I was no longer executor of his will for which I was very thankfull.
I talked with his ex-wife and she told me he owed over 75K in credit card bills that he had ran up bulding his house and living high on the hog.
She had a helluva time clearing everything up.
He was also a womanizer and had no respect for women except as a receptacle. I have no respect for any man such as he was and never will.
The old man died like he lived, cold and alone. I'm glad I wasn't caught up in his last illegal act.
Yep, you can take my word for it that some men never change.
I'm really proud that many can and do though.
 
Wow, Yvsa, I feel for you! Sounds like he had some real issues, was a manipulator big time, and like my Dad could be a charmer when he wanted to. That deal with the phony business and trying to use you was beyond anything my Dad ever tried, although he did make some phony phone calls on my behalf once, and of course lied to me regularly.

My father was a great man in some ways, intelligent, well-read and a jack of all trades who could do anything with his hands, and an abused emotional cripple and serial manipulator of others. He loved to hurt people emotionally in turn. He died when I was 26. I wish I could have had a relationship with him later in life. I would love to have someone like that I could share things with; show him my knives, go fishing, talk about guns, woodworking, just visit. He never met my wife, or knew my kids. My mother is alive but I haven't spoke to her in 13 years and she doesn't know my kids at all. If it doesn't have something to do with money or "class" she doesn't care about it. Sick.

I envy people who still have family they do things with on Thanksgiving and Christmas and stuff like that; people who remember them from when they were children. People who have photo albums with events they can share across generations, and extended families. For those people Roger's advice is right on, and for those of us with families of our own as well. Try and build some memories together.

I can tell there is a lot of bitterness in your heart Yvsa for what your old man did to you, and I don't begrudge you a bit of it. But you have turned into a hell of a good man who is loved and widely respected despite his efforts, and you can be very proud of that.


Best Regards,

Norm
 
Some people say that the elderly get more emotional . I think it is at least partially because they have more to be emotional about . Every strength is a weakness and every weakness a strength . It sounds like you and your dad are on the right track . Maybe him relinquishing some responsibilities to you now will give you the strength to shoulder them all with time .
 
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