Good Morning My Friends,
Hope your weekend is special. Hope you enjoy this mornings post.
I Love You, Son
Thoughts while driving my son to school: Morning, Kid. You
look pretty sharp in your Cub Scout gear, not as fat as your old
man when he was a Cub. I don't think my hair was ever as long
until I went away to college, but I think I'd recognize you any
way by what you are: a little shaggy around the ears, scuffed
around the toes, wrinkles in the knees...We get used to one
another...
Now that you're eight I notice I don't see a whole lot of
you anymore. On Columbus Day you left a nine in the morning. I
saw you for 42 seconds at lunch and you reappeared for supper at
five. I miss you, but I know you've got serious business to take
care of. Certainly as serious as, if not more important than, the
things the other commuters on the road are doing.
You've got to grow up and out and that's more important than
clipping coupons, arranging stock options or selling people
short. You've got to learn what you are able to do and what you
aren't - and you've got to learn how to deal with that. You've
got to learn about people and how they behave when they don't
feel good about themselves - like the bullies who hang out at the
bike rack and hassle the smaller kids. Yeah, you'll even have to
learn how to pretend that name-calling doesn't hurt. It'll always
hurt, but you'll have to put up a front or they'll call you worse
names next time. I only hope you remember how it feels - in case
you ever decide to rank a kid who's smaller than you.
When was the last time I told you I was proud of you? I
guess if I can't remember, I've got work to do. I remember the
last time I yelled at you - told you we'd be late if you didn't
hurry - but, on balance, as Nixon used to say, I haven't given
you as many pats as yells. For the record, in case you read this,
I am proud of you. I especially like your independence, the way
you take care of yourself even when it frightens me just a little
bit. You've never been much of a whiner and that makes you a
superior kid in my book.
Why is it that fathers are so slow to realize that eight-
year-olds need as many hugs as four-year-olds? If I don't watch
out, pretty soon I'll be punching you on the arm and saying,
"Whaddaya say, kid?" instead of hugging you and telling you I
love you. Life is too short to hide affection. Why is it that
eight-year-olds are so slow to realize that 36-year-olds need as
many hugs as four-year-olds?
Did I forget to tell you that I'm proud you went back to a
box lunch after one week's worth of that indigestible hot lunch?
I'm glad you value your body.
I wish the drive weren't so short...I want to talk about
last night...when your younger brother was asleep and we let you
stay up and watch the Yankees game. Those times are so special.
There's no way you can plan them. Every time we try to plan
something together, it's not as good or rich or warm. For a few
all-too short minutes it was as if you'd already grown up and we
sat and talked without any words about "How are you doing in
school, son?" I'd already checked your math homework the only way
I could - with a calculator. You're better with numbers than I'll
ever be. So, we talked about the game and you knew more about the
players than I did and I learned from you. And we were both happy
when the Yankees won.
Well, there's the crossing guard. He'll probably outlive all
of us. I wish you didn't have to go to school today. There are so
many things I want to say.
Your exit from my car is so quick. I want to savor the
moment and you've already spotted a couple of your friends.
I just wanted to say "I love you, son..."
God Bless
marty auslander
------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is an automatically-generated notice. If you'd like to be removed
from the mailing list, please visit the Medicine-On-Line Discussion Forum
at <http://www.meds.com/con_faq.html>, or send an email message to:
majordomo@lists.meds.com
with the subject line blank and the body of the message containing the line:
unsubscribe mol-cancer your-email-address
where the phrase your-email-address is replaced with your actual email
address.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
