Let me explain Faith is my favorite daughter and Tj is my favorite son
Power Point Presentation Of The Birds And The Bees
My parents were the type
of parents who nurtured, engaged and encouraged us as children to think, and act
freely to simply be children and somehow they never allowed the weight of their own lives in the 1950’s and 1960’s affect our simpler world as children, looking back it seemed we all somehow existed in our own little family cocoon and we were just kids in the family cocoon learning all they needed to teach us in the kindest of ways.
My mom was an elementary school teacher my dad was possibly a jack of all trades, both were personable, considerate and so understanding towards us, they were the kind of mom and dad that routinely insisted we share our toys, play well together, brush our teeth, wash our hands before meals, and say our prayers at night before going to bed, I think our mission mandate was to not forget to always say please and thank you, take a bath every night, but to remember all the other things I've mention and do it within the context of play and those moments of prayers, that was a full day.
As I remember our overall lives together was fun and lively. We all enjoyed our daily interactions collectively and one of the best parts about it all was the long running inside jokes, that became stories we told and retold at different times when we were together.
An example of such a moment was, once we were having a meal and dad kiddingly asked my younger brother John if he could have a drink of his beverage.
Without even thinking my brother spoke up and calmly said NO!!!!
My dad was surprised and asked why not...after all they shared the same name...what could be the harm?
John said ..."dad I can't because I have little germs, and you have big germs."
My brother was even then his own "man" and by and large known at least at home before he started school was known as “boots” a name he incurred because he was always wearing his favorite pair of cowboy boots…it became iconic and really it was the coolest thing, however it was in no way an indicator of the capable, thoughtful, and accomplished man he would eventually become, to us he was initially just boots.
And I was ‘rome which is just a shorten version of my middle name, I would have to say that shared a connection with my dad and and my mom...but by default I related and wanted to do everything dad did so he and I were both wrestler enthusiast in our shared alter egos, and I had a memorizing morning appoint and fascination of watching/imitating him shaving every morning... that had me literally doing everything verbatim that he actually did...if he moved his face to shave in a certain spot, I moved my face to reach that same spot on my face, if he tilted his head to get to shave a certain area, I moved my head to shave that same area on my face...in fact he even gave me a razor with no razors in it, so I could "shave" too and trust me, when I say I did everything dad did...that means I did everything "dad" did
Including walking the way he walked, speaking the ways he spoke, I stood the way he stood, and I too looked off pensively off in the distance just as he did as he maybe contemplated the next move he was undertaking in a home repair, or washing the car, or using his tools around the house. He would catch me out of the corner of his eye and just smile...I didn't realize I was doing it...or why I would ever do such a thing...it was just natural.
One more thing I want you to know about dad, he could tell a joke or humorously twist a word, or a phrase, or a meaning at the drop of a hat the way he would do it would crack everybody up and easily become an instant family classic and part of a perpetual source of giggles and delight for us all as a family for years on end, even now.
For instance when he tucked us in bed at night for some unknown reason, he’d randomly say something like “screwballs”and somehow, it cracked my brother and I up!!! All he said was “screwballs” and it was connected to nothing, about nothing, meaning nothing and it was absolutely harlarious. It was Jerry Seinfeld before Jerry Seinfeld.
“Screwballs, we’d asked puzzled, whattttt???”
He calmly confidently, smiled and said, “yep, screwballs” with nothing more or nothing less, but maybe a “dad” power, a dad presence and a parent influence, and ka pow!!!!!!
Out of thin air somehow our dad had once again created yet another moment of family relationship magic.In fact I could call my brother up right now and say nothing but "screwballs" and we'd both laugh and talk about it for hours.
Those kind of moments with dad and mom was easily equal to the many times we took a drive in the car to no particular place, at first time and time again we be all excited sitting in the backseat of the car, but by the time we would eventually return home...we would be fast asleep ...which by the way was the best sleep wasn't it...that sleep you have as a kid, while riding in the backseat of the family car. But I don’t think it’s the make of the car that made it so good, I really think the key incrediant was the "family" part of the equation that made it what it was, in fact the only sleep that was sweeter, was the moments of actually sleeping in your parents bed, and those instances too were sure to include the child being taken to their own bed in the dad's strong arms after falling asleep in the throes of family, in their bed, laughing, kidding joking and eventually unavoidably falling asleep nestled in the warmth, security and love of mom and dad.
Our Mom was the quintessential nurturer, teacher, seamstress, cook, emergency nurse, living dictionary, improvisationilist,
extraordinaire, accountant, bible reader who unfortunately insisted cartoons be turned off while she read the bible to us, and she was back then the never complaining, never sullen or moody, epitome of moms, it’s no wonder we possibly felt we were eager and well equipped to establish a home in that same nurturing spirit.
Yes I’m overly idealistic, yes my heart is on my sleeve, yeah life is pretty much all kinds of awesome, sunsets and mountains consistently amazing me, yes women can be fascinating, men can rise to almost any occasion if they pray and try, and kids are individual miracles.
With that mindset it’s no surprise when I became a father, I was ecstatic to have a family, I was delirious giddy drunk on the potential of being a parent like I thought my parents had been.
I was so ready with what I thought would be numerous baseball strategies that needed to be handed down to my son, I had at the ready the critical but few types of baseball pitches my dad had taught me, if I remember correctly they were the curve ball, the fastball, the slider, the knuckleball and of course the spitball all of which I just knew would be exemplified by me to him in what no doubt would be an absolute dream home of a backyard, and then of course there would also be moments of the family at every Pop Warner and subsequent junior high and high school football practices, eventually without question some big name college (like the Crimson Tide ) football team, would come seeking his talents and we’d be seen in the stands at games and on campus celebrating each years home coming festivities and all of those culminating in an obvious first round draft selection for the NFL.
As for my lovely daughter I imagined baby dolls, babydoll hairdos, and ever array and cast of playmates, teatimes, easy bake ovens, sleep overs, debutante balls, is that really you daughter in that flowing evening gown?, and the prom, of course she’d be prom Queen, there’d have to be corsages, no doubt a carefully selected career path, where she’s discover something important like the unseen flaw in Einstein’s theory of relativity or Newton’s law of physics, collect the Nobel prize for everything and predictably, perhaps one day some dweeb guy, no wait… I mean some very nice guy would come sliding, sniveling and begging, no, wait…I’m sure I mean the dweeber will come asking for her precious hand in marriage, yeah that’s what I meant?
Meanwhile I was supremely undeterred by prospects of what being a parent is or should be heck I even imagined there might be an ever present award worthy power point presentation focusing on each life lesson that might ever be taught and best demonstrated including the eventual “every parents rite of passage, the talk on the birds and the bees, which I know would become a CBS documentary and a parental standard, maybe a book and who knows perhaps a movie???
Until that time, I enthusiastically diapered and baby powdered my way through my kids early years. Thank God their mom was the lead and the brain trust in that effort.
Unfortunately I lost my son Tj in March 2018, ( insert here any near possible explanation of how losing a child could ever possibly happen, and please, please please take your time and take me through it slowly, please use a big red crayon, all the props you can find and just give me 500 lifetimes to try to understand any and every part of that)
But now in trying to refocus and in all that is remembering the memories of the good times we had while he was with us.
I have to reflect back on my daughter Faith when she was just a toddler when she and I always had this ritual of eating snacks together, various candies, popcorn, wafers, whatever and almost any unscheduled meal was an occasion to bond and lose ourselves in the joy of just being dad and daughter doing something silly together.
Inexplicably and strangely enough back then Faith was somehow a chubby kid, by nature and seemingly just by default.
My kids and I could have fun doing just about anything and I use to tease
Faith when she would ask who was the favorite child…I would say…Faith???? You both are!!!!
But of course that was not the answer she was looking for…and she would teasingly press me to give her the answer that she knew must be true .
OK I would say…let me explain it this way, but promise me that you won’t tell your brother OK…then I would pull her close, getting her into my confidence zone and I'd whisper and tell her, that she was my “favorite” daughter then I'd stop and look around to make sure no one else would hear what I was about to say...then once assured I'd say...and Faith Tj is my “favorite” son.
This would make her say…daddy???????? but I’m really your favorite, right?
Yeah of course I’d say….let me say it again…come on listen…hear me…you’re my favorite daughter, and Tj is my favorite son. So see you're right, OK????
She’d be outdone and pretend that she was in search of another possible truth.
Meanwhile I’d be thanking God that I had one of both a son and a daughter.
Now back to when she was a toddler and it was snack time, my cute as a button amazing daughter would present me with her snack selection and present it to me with these two words “open this”
As far as Faith was concerned, snacks were to be accessed by being “opened” no matter what the snack was, or how it was packaged, whether it be a bag of chips, a sleeve of fig newtons, a pack of cookies or crackers or a candy bar, everything, occasional even cracker jacks, even pecans, walnuts and peanuts, whatever, to Faith’s definition everything to be eaten had to be “opened.”
But the best of the best fun was when we shared a snack of fruit cocktail. Often she would suddenly appear with a cold can of fruit cocktail, previously aided by her mom no doubt, in knowing what the process was, and how the game was played she would give Faith the can and off Faith would go in search of me and after climbing the stairs or finding me wherever I was or just dragging me to the kitchen and pointing to her favorite snack item, she would then direct me to open it, which I’d do usually after pretending to not understand what in the world she wanted…eventually I’d pour some fruit cocktail into a bowl and the fun would begin.
Initially we’d use spoons to enjoy our snack together, there she would be giving herself a spoonful and then giving me a spoonful but towards the end of the snack ritual, just as we’d almost be finished with all we could get in her spoon, at some point her tiny uncoordinated fingers would be dipping right into the bowl fishing for the few last pieces of fruit and especially the cherries, this always was the coup de gras and the best fun!!!!!!!!!
There she would be safe, secure, situated on my lap, perched in my arms, with the most serious look on her face trying to capture an errant elusive cherry, and once captured just as she’s about ready to savor the tasty prize, slowly moving it to her tiny mouth, and just before she was about to inhale the object of her desire, I’d interrupt her by suddenly being distraught and totally broken hearted telling her that I desperately wanted “that” specific cherry, and no it’s not the other ones still in the bowl that I want, that’s not the point at all!!!!! I wanted that one you have right there and how in the world could she deny me that precious opportunity????
At first she would pause, considering if she would share or eat the cherry and then more often than not she’d actually offer it to me (honestly Tj and Faith had the kindest hearts)but in my seeing she would gladly deny herself what she had just moments before so desired…I would then say no baby it’s OK you can have it, then being satisfied that I understood she’d eat it and again so predictably of course I’d somehow be shockingly incredulous, whatttttt I’d say omg did you actually ate it?????? Oh noooooooo, I’m broken hearted, where in the world is your mom…Vickie, Vickieeeeeee, your baby Faith Rachelle just ate the whole entire can of fruit cocktail, I kid you not…the whole can and didn’t give me any of it!!!!!!!!!!!! Can you believe this, omg, I guess I really don’t matter around here to anybody huh??????? NO not me I’m just the dad, no I’m not important huh Faith, but how could you?????
Faith by this time would be giggling, and utterly delighted, and I’d be forced to smother her in hugs and kisses as punishment, until she exhaustedly apologized and promised to never do it again, then without fail when she recovered from the hugs and kisses, laughter and bonding, she would ask for more fruit cocktail, and the whole thing would start over again.
I have admired how you clearly, honestly and openly shared what it was like in your family as you were growing up and then how you addressed similar issues with your own family. You caught me for a moment by describing what happened to TJ, but I believe you've left that for other writing.
I was pleased to see that your family operated quite similar to mine back in the early elementary years. We took a lot of long rides. That only fueled my interest in driving, geography, history and places. I couldn't sleep for most drives no matter how tired. I was always looking for something interesting up ahead. We did sleep coming home after long nights of cardplaying at relatives, but we couldn't see much at night anyway. And I recall my father trying to make me a big-league ballplayer. I didn't know what a spitball was, but he told me I had a natural fastball and a natural curve. I don't know, I just loved to pitch as hard as I could.
I never had any children so I can't tell you what I would've done. But I like children and think I would've done alright by them.
Power Point Presentation Of The Birds And The Bees
