It amazes me the drive, courage, and confidence our young women have to go out into the unknown and search for the life she saw that you and your spouse enjoyed. Your example of the dream you two live made her hungry for the same. What a compliment to you and your wife. Bigger praise could not be made.
My daughter's children made me realize the promise of life beyond me. They are blessings to our family. They give us a chance to remember and relive growing up into the people we’ve become. It’s astonishing how many personal characteristics seem to be inborn right from the start. Genetics I guess make that possible.
Good luck to your daughter. She had some good examples to learn from.
Thanks for sharing some realness with us. It ALL goes by way too fast. As your daughter carries the torch on into the Vast Future, may your light continue shining on the World as well. My son, now 38, has made his way out into Reality and continues trudging ahead. His way is made much easier thanks to the well of memories he has to draw from. Many of those memories were made and shared with me during his childhood as we listened and laughed and loved and fed our souls with PHC on the weekends. Much love to you and your family during these times. May you each find all the strength and peace you need to make it One Day at a Time. Namaste....
That was really touching and brought back memories of similar experiences with my own daughters. Memories of a simpler past and the pain / joy of new beginnings and change. You are a lucky / blessed man.
Think you might be a little disappointed when 45 makes a comeback but that is a discussion for another day. Best to you and your family
It's tempting to become psychologically entangled and engrossed in the Machiavellian maneuverings of men, as if their lives are more real to us than our own. Not so. Thank you for sharing a slice of your life with us and describing the realness of human bonds and a father's love for his daughter (and vice versa). It's grounding. We have our own gardens to tend that exist above and beyond the daily news cycle.
Beautiful story about your daughter and her migration toward full adulthood. Daughters are Heartbreakers. You can't love anyone more than them, but if you've done your job they want to be independent. They still love you, but eventually they'll meet a guy, get married, and he'll be the focus of their life. Both of my daughters are now wives and mothers, approaching middle age. They are wonderful women who I am very proud of.
Oh, man. I know the feeling. I have one child. He is 27. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed after we left him at Macalester, two states away, for college. My husband had to do all the driving even though he was verklempt, too. I moped and teared up on a regular basis for the next month and couldn’t wait for Parents Weekend, when we again drove up from Illinois to see him — for about two hours total. He stayed up in the Cities for the next 5 years, and I and husband planned to move up ourselves this summer. Nope. Now he wants to come home. He’s here now for a long visit, which in my mind is a prelude. Oh. My. God. My husband and I clearly have adjusted to our darling’s absence way better than I’d ever thought we would. You will, too, even though it doesn’t feel like it now.
I'm crying as I read your story, and it's all your fault. Well....not really, but a certain PHC cruise in 2005, up the coast of Maine and into northeast Canada had something to do with it. I'm not sure if it was a stop in Halifax, St. John, or PEI, but Julie and I were walking the town and we caught sight of an open air-tour carriage (one of the shore excursions) with you and your daughter, who was probably 7 or so. The combination of serenity and joy overtook me, and I thought, love is always with us, regardless of age. Two years later, we adopted a beautiful girl at birth. Now, at my age of 73, and Julie, ten years younger, we have had 14 magical, wonderful years with our growing daughter. She's currently at a camp in Maine - a welcome break from the enforced pandemic inspired life that the three of us have been living. And, of course we miss her terribly and I shake my head as I revisit the household conflicts of too much screen time and too little math practice, and I promise myself to be the most loving, supporting father ever, when we pick her up. In the meantime, I'm crying as I read your article, and view the picture at the end, with her looking near the age she was on that Canadian trip. I wish your daughter well, and be sure to thank her, since it was that final picture at the end that prompted me to click "Subscribe"!
I have three adult children between the ages of ages of 35 and 39. If you are do the job right, they do grow up eventually, and when they eventually fly off on their own it is an amazing, sorrowful, beautiful, and joyful thing to see. Grandkids can stir up the same maelstrom of emotions...
That's a wonderful picture of you and your daughter! As a peripatetic fan, I remember sitting in the stands before a show near San Diego, glancing down and seeing you and your daughter walking by. The two of you were holding hands. I found it so touching. I have read biographies written by the children of stars, children who wrote that they rarely saw their parents, especially when those stars were on tour. Yet, here you were, a parent who valued his child so much that he brought her along, just so the two of you could spend off-stage time together! Unlike some stage fathers "in the spotlight", you "walk the talk!" You tell stories of warm, loving families, and your warmth comes from the heart!
Your feelings are shared by so many of us who send our children out into the wide world, urging them to follow their dreams, but wishing we could just hold them tightly to us!
The Gift of Covid- Back in March 2020 when we were told to shelter in place, both of my grown children asked if they could come up to our Northern Michigan home. We'd moved in just weeks prior to this new place, getting ready for retirement. We said sure. It'll be what? A week or two? Two and half months later, I was filling my coffee mug while overhearing my son on a Zoom call with some Fortune 500 exec he was trying to place at a new job. His financial industry lingo rolling off his tongue like a fluent second language. I looked at him and this moment of time displacement had me seeing him at four years old in footie pajamas, tired of our chatter and TV watching so he'd grabbed his blankie and dragged it down the hall to put himself to bed. I started giggling like a fool and had to stuff my hand in my mouth and make a quiet exit from the dining room/temp office space. I also remembered the day he graduated from college and packed his things to conquer the world in Chicago; he, filled with courage and me, feeling like someone had hollowed me out with an ice cream scoop. It had been ten years since that kid spent more than a night or two under my roof and COVID, that huge monstrous killer had just carried him to my door and gently placed him back into my day-to-day world for an unprecedented 10 weeks. We all cooked food, and unacked our moving boxes and painted rooms together and I got to see his growly morning face again. The one that made us laugh about feeding the bear quickly upon waking to avoid dangerous encounters. Watching our kids step into their new lives away from us is, perhaps, the most soul wrenching thing we must do. They don't need us anymore to keep the sharp objects away and to put the bandaids on. They've got this. Because they had us and we showed them how to do it. Life with kids is a Gigantic Gummy Worm banquet. Parts so sour it makes us cringe and a sticky sweet finish that we'll never get out of our teeth. And who would want to? Even with all the horror of 2020, that gift of time with grown children was something I never thought I'd have after prying my arms from around my kids when I said goodbye when they moved away. Just gonna lick this gummy worm now and celebrate how all those flavors, all those memories fill the scooped out places inside me...
It amazes me the drive, courage, and confidence our young women have to go out into the unknown and search for the life she saw that you and your spouse enjoyed. Your example of the dream you two live made her hungry for the same. What a compliment to you and your wife. Bigger praise could not be made.
My daughter's children made me realize the promise of life beyond me. They are blessings to our family. They give us a chance to remember and relive growing up into the people we’ve become. It’s astonishing how many personal characteristics seem to be inborn right from the start. Genetics I guess make that possible.
Good luck to your daughter. She had some good examples to learn from.
This both warms and breaks my heart. Love to you all.
Thanks for sharing some realness with us. It ALL goes by way too fast. As your daughter carries the torch on into the Vast Future, may your light continue shining on the World as well. My son, now 38, has made his way out into Reality and continues trudging ahead. His way is made much easier thanks to the well of memories he has to draw from. Many of those memories were made and shared with me during his childhood as we listened and laughed and loved and fed our souls with PHC on the weekends. Much love to you and your family during these times. May you each find all the strength and peace you need to make it One Day at a Time. Namaste....
That was really touching and brought back memories of similar experiences with my own daughters. Memories of a simpler past and the pain / joy of new beginnings and change. You are a lucky / blessed man.
Think you might be a little disappointed when 45 makes a comeback but that is a discussion for another day. Best to you and your family
It's tempting to become psychologically entangled and engrossed in the Machiavellian maneuverings of men, as if their lives are more real to us than our own. Not so. Thank you for sharing a slice of your life with us and describing the realness of human bonds and a father's love for his daughter (and vice versa). It's grounding. We have our own gardens to tend that exist above and beyond the daily news cycle.
Beautiful story about your daughter and her migration toward full adulthood. Daughters are Heartbreakers. You can't love anyone more than them, but if you've done your job they want to be independent. They still love you, but eventually they'll meet a guy, get married, and he'll be the focus of their life. Both of my daughters are now wives and mothers, approaching middle age. They are wonderful women who I am very proud of.
Oh, man. I know the feeling. I have one child. He is 27. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed after we left him at Macalester, two states away, for college. My husband had to do all the driving even though he was verklempt, too. I moped and teared up on a regular basis for the next month and couldn’t wait for Parents Weekend, when we again drove up from Illinois to see him — for about two hours total. He stayed up in the Cities for the next 5 years, and I and husband planned to move up ourselves this summer. Nope. Now he wants to come home. He’s here now for a long visit, which in my mind is a prelude. Oh. My. God. My husband and I clearly have adjusted to our darling’s absence way better than I’d ever thought we would. You will, too, even though it doesn’t feel like it now.
I'm crying as I read your story, and it's all your fault. Well....not really, but a certain PHC cruise in 2005, up the coast of Maine and into northeast Canada had something to do with it. I'm not sure if it was a stop in Halifax, St. John, or PEI, but Julie and I were walking the town and we caught sight of an open air-tour carriage (one of the shore excursions) with you and your daughter, who was probably 7 or so. The combination of serenity and joy overtook me, and I thought, love is always with us, regardless of age. Two years later, we adopted a beautiful girl at birth. Now, at my age of 73, and Julie, ten years younger, we have had 14 magical, wonderful years with our growing daughter. She's currently at a camp in Maine - a welcome break from the enforced pandemic inspired life that the three of us have been living. And, of course we miss her terribly and I shake my head as I revisit the household conflicts of too much screen time and too little math practice, and I promise myself to be the most loving, supporting father ever, when we pick her up. In the meantime, I'm crying as I read your article, and view the picture at the end, with her looking near the age she was on that Canadian trip. I wish your daughter well, and be sure to thank her, since it was that final picture at the end that prompted me to click "Subscribe"!
I have three adult children between the ages of ages of 35 and 39. If you are do the job right, they do grow up eventually, and when they eventually fly off on their own it is an amazing, sorrowful, beautiful, and joyful thing to see. Grandkids can stir up the same maelstrom of emotions...
That's a wonderful picture of you and your daughter! As a peripatetic fan, I remember sitting in the stands before a show near San Diego, glancing down and seeing you and your daughter walking by. The two of you were holding hands. I found it so touching. I have read biographies written by the children of stars, children who wrote that they rarely saw their parents, especially when those stars were on tour. Yet, here you were, a parent who valued his child so much that he brought her along, just so the two of you could spend off-stage time together! Unlike some stage fathers "in the spotlight", you "walk the talk!" You tell stories of warm, loving families, and your warmth comes from the heart!
Your feelings are shared by so many of us who send our children out into the wide world, urging them to follow their dreams, but wishing we could just hold them tightly to us!
The Gift of Covid- Back in March 2020 when we were told to shelter in place, both of my grown children asked if they could come up to our Northern Michigan home. We'd moved in just weeks prior to this new place, getting ready for retirement. We said sure. It'll be what? A week or two? Two and half months later, I was filling my coffee mug while overhearing my son on a Zoom call with some Fortune 500 exec he was trying to place at a new job. His financial industry lingo rolling off his tongue like a fluent second language. I looked at him and this moment of time displacement had me seeing him at four years old in footie pajamas, tired of our chatter and TV watching so he'd grabbed his blankie and dragged it down the hall to put himself to bed. I started giggling like a fool and had to stuff my hand in my mouth and make a quiet exit from the dining room/temp office space. I also remembered the day he graduated from college and packed his things to conquer the world in Chicago; he, filled with courage and me, feeling like someone had hollowed me out with an ice cream scoop. It had been ten years since that kid spent more than a night or two under my roof and COVID, that huge monstrous killer had just carried him to my door and gently placed him back into my day-to-day world for an unprecedented 10 weeks. We all cooked food, and unacked our moving boxes and painted rooms together and I got to see his growly morning face again. The one that made us laugh about feeding the bear quickly upon waking to avoid dangerous encounters. Watching our kids step into their new lives away from us is, perhaps, the most soul wrenching thing we must do. They don't need us anymore to keep the sharp objects away and to put the bandaids on. They've got this. Because they had us and we showed them how to do it. Life with kids is a Gigantic Gummy Worm banquet. Parts so sour it makes us cringe and a sticky sweet finish that we'll never get out of our teeth. And who would want to? Even with all the horror of 2020, that gift of time with grown children was something I never thought I'd have after prying my arms from around my kids when I said goodbye when they moved away. Just gonna lick this gummy worm now and celebrate how all those flavors, all those memories fill the scooped out places inside me...