The phone rang late Friday afternoon, as I was in the middle of a planning conversation with Maggie. Caller ID said it was Denver Hospice, the place where my father spent his last 16 hours last February. I picked up the phone out of respect.The caller identified herself as a ‘grief counselor’ just wanting to check in and see how I am doing now, nearly six months after losing my dad. I stepped into the next room, settled into a comfy chair, and answered her like this:
Read MoreContinuation
My teenage son awoke from a classic anxiety dream the other morning: he dreamt he was sitting in a high school math class, totally unprepared, and fearful of the consequences. The timing of the dream is right, since today is Continuation Day at his school.
Read MoreComing Full-Circle, Again
In the months leading up to launching this blog and my web-radio show, I had been on something of a search for folks who might offer me wisdom and guidance during a time I felt confused and adrift. You’ve met and heard some of them on the program.
Read MoreA Day in the Life
Picking up the USA Today on my flight home from Toledo after burying my father, I recalled how he read this paper every day. I was never sure how much information he retained, although my dad did frequently surprise me with some fact or tidbit he must’ve gleaned from those pages. I felt a slight wave of sadness creep into the back of my heart, a slight welling of tears in the back of my eyes, as I let myself think for just a moment about my father and his daily routine.
Read MoreAsking Permission
I would like to learn to ask permission. With my teenage son Jordy, it would be at those times when I want to lecture or make a point, or teach a lesson, and I would actually do well to ask his permission first.
Read MoreCHANGES
This week, as I prepare to offer a training class on CHANGE MANAGEMENT for a local municipal client, I am aware of the changes all around me, and how much I need to keep in mind the challenges that this can cause.
Read MoreAllegiance
I remember standing in the front yard of the first home I really remember living in as a child. I’m only four or five years old, in my pajamas, barefoot in the damp grass on a summer morning. Standing next to me is my father, in a business suit, ready to leave for work.
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CATS IN THE CRADLE
In my ‘day job’ delivering training and development for folks in the workplace, I’ve had a lot interest in my workshop on the topic of Time Management. Back when I worked with an instructional designer to create this class, she suggested that I read the lyrics of the Harry Chapin song “Cats in the Cradle,” to bring home the point of the course.
Read MoreA very narrow bridge
“The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the most important thing is to not fear at all.” These words, adapted from the writings of the great 18th Century Hassidic master Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav, keep coming to mind as I think of my father, his life and his times. Especially this recent memorial day, which also marks the passing of my little sister, Toni Lynn.
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A Close Shave
I honestly don’t remember getting much advice from my father while growing up, so I guess what advice he did offer, I may have taken to heart. One thing I do recall him telling me, at about age 14, had to do with shaving. It was time to do something about the dark hair sprouting above my upper lip, and so my dad gave me his old electric razor to use to shave it off. And with it came the advice to employ this Norelco Triple Header for as long as possible:
Read MoreAdventures in Fatherhood – Being A Dad/Being A Son
Every week on The Grateful Dad Radio Hour I offer a quick update called ‘The Full-Circle Fatherhood Report’ based on an essay I contributed to the Men’s Anthology titled Ordinary Men, Extraordinary Lives: Defining Moments and reflecting that I am a member of the ‘sandwich generation,’ caring for both my son and my dad. Here’s this week’s installment.
Read MoreCelebrating the Firsts and the Lasts
I’ve always been big on celebrating, and after becoming a father, celebration became even more important. Each week, month, and year in my son’s life brought new joy, and another excuse to celebrate something special.
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