Deep Breathes!
Ok, I feel better than I did 24 hours ago. Just needed to work out a little frustration on this virtual punching bag. In the end, everyone found a way to still do what was practical and find ways to rework things so that "face" was saved. But, through this process I'm completely drained and, unfortunately, am far, far away from ever thinking of extending similar offers to anyone.
When I was in grade school I worked at "Our Daily Bread", a soup kitchen in Baltimore. I would spend hours there on the weekend... banging out some tunes on the piano, serving food, and generally hanging out. Coincidentally, every summer my father would take me and some neighborhood friends to an amusement park.. usually Hershey Park or Kings Dominion. While it was great fun for us, it was also an excuse for him to fly somewhere. So, on a few occasions, he would stuff us all in his Beechcraft Bonanza and we would skip over to the airport nearest the amusement park and spend the day. Was that the most efficient way to do things? heck no. Did it give him the excuse he needed to fly? Absolutely.
These two stories came together as one day I was talking to a boy my age who both worked at, and ate in, the soup kitchen. We were friends and he was a big part of why I went down there so much during the summer. As I was talking about the approaching amusement park trip he would get very excited -- having not been to one himself. There was, clearly, only one thing to do: he was to come with us when we went that next month.
So, coming home that day, I announced to my dad that another friend would be coming along. Dad, of course, said fine... there was room for one more in the plane. That began, of course, the saga. That next Saturday problems arose. My friend was told he couldn't go because of the cost. My dad said he would pay for everything. My friend's parents protested that they didn't know who we were. My dad noted he used to be a public figure and wasn't about to go on a kidnapping rampage. When they found out a plane was involved things got worse. It all culminated in my friend's father calling my father and demanding that my dad drive to his house and show him a copy of his pilot's license.
Well, my dad had a limit, and that was it. And I'll never forget it when my friend knew he wasn't going to go. After that summer I didn't volunteer at the soup kitchen again. I'm sure my friend turned out OK and such is the nature of grade-school summer friendships, be they made in summer camps or soup kitchens. But I'll never forget how disappointed he was to not be going, and how silly it seemed to us that there was no real reason he couldn't go. Just pride, really. Pride from a pair of parents who, seemingly, would rather their child only had good experiences that they provided.
I never had a chance to tell me father how proud I was of him for how much he put up with that whole fiasco, and how generous he was in his offers. I also never got a chance to let him know that I have come to understand his frustration. I've had a few "come over and show my your pilot's license" moments in my life.
There is a line between helper and doormat. IN fact, I think that's been one of the defining realizations that has come from being a parent. For my little girl I am a doormat. A complete and total doormat. We do whatever we can for her needs -- adjust sleep schedules, keep her ingrained with her extended family, watch her food variety, tape cut up pool noodles over all of our tables, and anything else to make her 18 month existence as pleasant as possible (including a healthy dose of what NO means to try and ward off a rampaging 2 year old). And of course, she pays us back with unconditional love. When she falls and hurts herself, she runs to mommy and daddy. When she is tired and wants to go to bed, or when she wakes up with a nightmare, or when she is proud of some new "dance move", it's right to mommy and daddy. When I walk in the door from work and she runs through the house screaming like a mad woman and then demands that I pick her up and carry her around.... that makes everything we do worthwhile.
Those are the relationships that deserve the diligence. Outside of our children, how rare they are!
When I was in grade school I worked at "Our Daily Bread", a soup kitchen in Baltimore. I would spend hours there on the weekend... banging out some tunes on the piano, serving food, and generally hanging out. Coincidentally, every summer my father would take me and some neighborhood friends to an amusement park.. usually Hershey Park or Kings Dominion. While it was great fun for us, it was also an excuse for him to fly somewhere. So, on a few occasions, he would stuff us all in his Beechcraft Bonanza and we would skip over to the airport nearest the amusement park and spend the day. Was that the most efficient way to do things? heck no. Did it give him the excuse he needed to fly? Absolutely.
These two stories came together as one day I was talking to a boy my age who both worked at, and ate in, the soup kitchen. We were friends and he was a big part of why I went down there so much during the summer. As I was talking about the approaching amusement park trip he would get very excited -- having not been to one himself. There was, clearly, only one thing to do: he was to come with us when we went that next month.
So, coming home that day, I announced to my dad that another friend would be coming along. Dad, of course, said fine... there was room for one more in the plane. That began, of course, the saga. That next Saturday problems arose. My friend was told he couldn't go because of the cost. My dad said he would pay for everything. My friend's parents protested that they didn't know who we were. My dad noted he used to be a public figure and wasn't about to go on a kidnapping rampage. When they found out a plane was involved things got worse. It all culminated in my friend's father calling my father and demanding that my dad drive to his house and show him a copy of his pilot's license.
Well, my dad had a limit, and that was it. And I'll never forget it when my friend knew he wasn't going to go. After that summer I didn't volunteer at the soup kitchen again. I'm sure my friend turned out OK and such is the nature of grade-school summer friendships, be they made in summer camps or soup kitchens. But I'll never forget how disappointed he was to not be going, and how silly it seemed to us that there was no real reason he couldn't go. Just pride, really. Pride from a pair of parents who, seemingly, would rather their child only had good experiences that they provided.
I never had a chance to tell me father how proud I was of him for how much he put up with that whole fiasco, and how generous he was in his offers. I also never got a chance to let him know that I have come to understand his frustration. I've had a few "come over and show my your pilot's license" moments in my life.
There is a line between helper and doormat. IN fact, I think that's been one of the defining realizations that has come from being a parent. For my little girl I am a doormat. A complete and total doormat. We do whatever we can for her needs -- adjust sleep schedules, keep her ingrained with her extended family, watch her food variety, tape cut up pool noodles over all of our tables, and anything else to make her 18 month existence as pleasant as possible (including a healthy dose of what NO means to try and ward off a rampaging 2 year old). And of course, she pays us back with unconditional love. When she falls and hurts herself, she runs to mommy and daddy. When she is tired and wants to go to bed, or when she wakes up with a nightmare, or when she is proud of some new "dance move", it's right to mommy and daddy. When I walk in the door from work and she runs through the house screaming like a mad woman and then demands that I pick her up and carry her around.... that makes everything we do worthwhile.
Those are the relationships that deserve the diligence. Outside of our children, how rare they are!
posted by Ed at 1:52 AM
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