Today is my Dad's 62nd birthday. To celebrate the occasion, I asked him to write a blog post about his most memorable gift. I know, I'm a sweet daughter... what can I say?
Enjoy!
*****
Tia asked me if I’d send her a blog post based on what I
thought was one of the many gifts I had ever received that stood out as
impressionable. Admittedly, she had to explain what a blog post was. But I
agreed.
The list was numerous, from childhood memories of simple,
country Christmases, where my favorite gift was contained in a penny candy bag
filled with nuts, an orange, an apple, and two chocolate covered cherries; to
countless ones spent with my daughters.
But I decided to write the one I felt has impacted my wife,
children and me more than any other.
For months, I had been
dreading my 50th birthday. 50? And on top of it, my daughter had
just announced I was going to be a grandfather. Grandfather? What happened to
the debonair young man who could fly a Frisbee halfway across a football field
and do kip-ups to impress his adoring daughters? Gray hairs were sprouting. I
was falling asleep at the drop of a hat . . . no, before the hat fell! What was
happening to me?
Two weeks before that dreaded day, I had a physical. I left
more dejected. High cholesterol. Zocor prescription in hand. I jumped into my
red corvette and stomped on the gas petal, spinning clear of the doctor’s
office. Heading back to work, I vowed I would get to my 50th, telling
anyone who would listen that I had gone 50 years without meds. I would remain
in control as long as possible.
On the Friday before my birthday, my wife and youngest
daughter announced they were taking me to dinner. Frankly, I wanted to go home,
settle in my easy chair and be alone. But how do you tell two excited women
that you wish they’d go alone? So I went.
They took me to a nice restaurant. It was way too crowded.
Too many people dropped by with greetings. A lot of them worked for me, so I feigned
warm greetings. Couldn’t they all see the sign on my forehead, “Middle aged
crisis brewing! Beware!”
Halfway through dinner, I happened to look across the room
and almost fell out of my chair. It was my two brothers and their wives. My head couldn’t spin fast enough. I looked
dead-on at my wife. “Tell me you haven’t planned anything for my birthday.”
From their adoring, excited looks I knew something was
coming. And for one moment, I was furious. I felt deceived. Hadn’t I told them
not to do this? Before I could chew into them, I saw my family moving my way,
smiling broadly.
Everything I had been feeling brewed sour. The next day, the
doorbell kept ringing. One daughter arrived from New York. The other from Chicago. My brothers called and asked me to
meet them for lunch. I wanted to run, but instead, I acquiesced and went.
Finally my wife confessed there would be a small gathering.
Small? By 7pm, 125 guests had arrived.
Despite how I was feeling, the evening proved wonderful. The roasting was kind,
and I poured my humor out in rare form.
Afterwards, I realized how special the celebration had been:
1. Turning 50 didn’t hurt. In fact it was a blessing of love
that still humbles me.
2. GE stock split 3 for 1, first time in my 27 year
employment.
3. I made it to 50 without taking one ongoing medication.
Looking back, I realized that was a pivotal time, not just a
half century birthday. It reminded me:
1. Life is short.
 |
| Dad and his first grand-daughter, Jackie |
2. A grandchild was on the way. My legacy would go on.
3. The added stock value beefed up my savings to finalize my
dream. Retirement.
And for the first time in my life, I embraced the fact that
I had:
1. Missed the mark—leading an unbalanced life.
2. Missed out—not being available for precious moments.
3. Missed life—no time for anything beyond 7 to 7 work days.
More than anything in my life, I wanted to:
1. Spend more time with God.
2. Enjoy my family.
3. Give to others.
So in the end, and reflecting back today, I realize that my 50th birthday began a new venture in my life. A new beginning. A lot of blessings.
One of the biggest gifts I’ve ever received. A triple whammy multiplied many
times over because I’ve been present in love rather than being absent in guilt.
*****
As you age, what is your greatest gift?
This weekend I worked on storyline for Chasing Memories Book 2. Finally, we took the girls to see San Francisco/ Fisherman's Wharf. During the train ride, I filled four notebook pages with storyline ideas with help from the kids. 
Within
minutes Mama came down the hall, sleepy-eyed and shuffling in the pink bedroom
slippers she had gotten for Christmas. I watched her every move. When she looked
up and saw the table display, she halted. I watched and waited. Then tears slid
down her face one by one. 
This has only become worse as an adult. I know, I'm supposed to be more mature. Problem with getting older . . . I have gained the knowledge necessary to justify my impatient actions. Each time I was pregnant, I was chomping at the bit to know the sex of my baby. My husband could have waited until the birth, but not me. I had to know. It was still a surprise, just a quicker one.
What's my favorite recipe? Whichever box is on sale. I've tried homemade recipes, but it's a lot of effort and the various box options bring me enough joy. I like them fudgy, not cake-like. If I want cake, I'll make a cake. And no nuts, please. If I want crunchy, I'll grab a bag of potato chips.
