You're so far away. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see your face at my door.
Guest Blog, written by my good friend, Husker, on the plane ride home from dropping his daughter off at college. Grab a box of kleenex.
A father’s lament.
WOW, where did the last three and a half years of volleyball go? Not long ago we were sitting in the university field house watching tryouts for the 16’s team, wondering if she had a chance to make one of the traveling teams. The year before, we were headed to the tryout, but turned back after self doubt, fear and tears dampened her spirit and settled for the small local club team instead.
Now, I’m on the last leg of the flight home after dropping her off at a major university. She will soon be playing in one of, if not the toughest, volleyball conferences in the nation. 2400 miles from home, she is starting the next step, a dream come true and a great opportunity that thousands of want-to-be student athletes would die for.
So, what’s to grieve over? Well, that could be time gone by, or it could be about how a young girl turns into a young lady before your eyes, or how parenthood carries a cruel twist of letting your children go that hits your heart strings harder than a Stacey Gordon kill hits the floor. Or, even the anxiety of becoming a member of the empty nest club. I even grieve a little over the positive things like how these continuous years of hard work and dedication pay off…pride…love…
Writing in detail about all these potential options seem too numerous, but so are the emotions. So, I’ll simply take the opportunity to purge the highs and lows of this high school to college transition that seemed much like a rollercoaster ride. Funny, I remember qualifiers where the teamed performed in similar fashion. Up one game, down the next, looking like gold bracket contenders one match, and hoping not to be in the last flight the next. Somehow though, those were small waves that set the stage for the bigger challenges ahead. The tease, if you will. Now the ride really heats up.
As I watched people in the airport, I want to tell those parents frustrated with their young children to smile and enjoy these times, for they quickly pass and these trying moments fade in obscurity as fond memories serve up a smile. Funny how each little blond girl looks like my daughters at that age. Cute with blond curls but just a hit of mischief and a smile that lights up everyone around them. I look at the teenagers patiently waiting, listening to I-pods and wonder where they’ve spent their time and energy. Are they driven to succeed in their areas of interest, are they aware of the unlimited possibilities that await them if they can find the where-with-all to pursue a passion? Are they yearning to spread their own wings and go after the challenges life offers? As the father of two daughters that are, I hope their parents are as proud as I am.
Ouch, how is it that typing the word proud brings a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye? The same lump and tear I got when they announced her name at the state tournament, the same lump and tear that hit me when her sister played her first violin solo, and the same swelling pride I felt at both of their graduation ceremonies. A different lump and tear than the ones I got while trying to console them after the first lost boyfriend, or finishing in a three way tie in pool play and losing the tie breaker. But nonetheless, a simple word evokes an emotion that pours out memory after memory.
What a blessing to have the opportunity to raise children and to have the numerous outlets for them to use their gifts and creativity. Considering they come without instructions, but are more fragile than any thing else imaginable, it’s amazing we got them raised without a major malfunction. Like learning a jump serve, improving your hitting motion, or playing the piano, we practice parenting with patience, love and passion; and we get better -or lucky- or both. And with that luck we get the reward of seeing our children become great young adults that break our hearts when they leave the nest, but mend our spirit with love, appreciation, happiness and a run down a path toward success.
So lament may be an overdramatization, because this blessing brings pride, love, and joy in our children’s successes. The sadness of the quiet house will soon pass, and I’ll swing into the empty nest like all those parents do year after year. The times together will be that much more enjoyable, and the lessons they teach me in return will be invaluable.
As the Captain alerts us to prepare for landing, I guess these ramblings have completed their flight plan too. As I think of all the freshman women heading into their first collegiate volleyball seasons, I hope success follows them in whatever form they perceive it and that their fathers share the same lump and tear of pride that I have in both my daughters.
Needless to say she made that traveling team those many months ago, and last month when she got to play in the state all star game in that same university field house, we sat in for tryouts I thought we had come full circle. Now I’m not so sure. I think we’ve just added another ring and the ride continues.
I pray she travels well.
----
Thank you, Husker. I am sure your daughter will thrive and succeed at school. With this kind of love and support ^^^ from her family, I don't see how it could turn out any other way.
-The Dude
A father’s lament.
WOW, where did the last three and a half years of volleyball go? Not long ago we were sitting in the university field house watching tryouts for the 16’s team, wondering if she had a chance to make one of the traveling teams. The year before, we were headed to the tryout, but turned back after self doubt, fear and tears dampened her spirit and settled for the small local club team instead.
Now, I’m on the last leg of the flight home after dropping her off at a major university. She will soon be playing in one of, if not the toughest, volleyball conferences in the nation. 2400 miles from home, she is starting the next step, a dream come true and a great opportunity that thousands of want-to-be student athletes would die for.
So, what’s to grieve over? Well, that could be time gone by, or it could be about how a young girl turns into a young lady before your eyes, or how parenthood carries a cruel twist of letting your children go that hits your heart strings harder than a Stacey Gordon kill hits the floor. Or, even the anxiety of becoming a member of the empty nest club. I even grieve a little over the positive things like how these continuous years of hard work and dedication pay off…pride…love…
Writing in detail about all these potential options seem too numerous, but so are the emotions. So, I’ll simply take the opportunity to purge the highs and lows of this high school to college transition that seemed much like a rollercoaster ride. Funny, I remember qualifiers where the teamed performed in similar fashion. Up one game, down the next, looking like gold bracket contenders one match, and hoping not to be in the last flight the next. Somehow though, those were small waves that set the stage for the bigger challenges ahead. The tease, if you will. Now the ride really heats up.
As I watched people in the airport, I want to tell those parents frustrated with their young children to smile and enjoy these times, for they quickly pass and these trying moments fade in obscurity as fond memories serve up a smile. Funny how each little blond girl looks like my daughters at that age. Cute with blond curls but just a hit of mischief and a smile that lights up everyone around them. I look at the teenagers patiently waiting, listening to I-pods and wonder where they’ve spent their time and energy. Are they driven to succeed in their areas of interest, are they aware of the unlimited possibilities that await them if they can find the where-with-all to pursue a passion? Are they yearning to spread their own wings and go after the challenges life offers? As the father of two daughters that are, I hope their parents are as proud as I am.
Ouch, how is it that typing the word proud brings a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye? The same lump and tear I got when they announced her name at the state tournament, the same lump and tear that hit me when her sister played her first violin solo, and the same swelling pride I felt at both of their graduation ceremonies. A different lump and tear than the ones I got while trying to console them after the first lost boyfriend, or finishing in a three way tie in pool play and losing the tie breaker. But nonetheless, a simple word evokes an emotion that pours out memory after memory.
What a blessing to have the opportunity to raise children and to have the numerous outlets for them to use their gifts and creativity. Considering they come without instructions, but are more fragile than any thing else imaginable, it’s amazing we got them raised without a major malfunction. Like learning a jump serve, improving your hitting motion, or playing the piano, we practice parenting with patience, love and passion; and we get better -or lucky- or both. And with that luck we get the reward of seeing our children become great young adults that break our hearts when they leave the nest, but mend our spirit with love, appreciation, happiness and a run down a path toward success.
So lament may be an overdramatization, because this blessing brings pride, love, and joy in our children’s successes. The sadness of the quiet house will soon pass, and I’ll swing into the empty nest like all those parents do year after year. The times together will be that much more enjoyable, and the lessons they teach me in return will be invaluable.
As the Captain alerts us to prepare for landing, I guess these ramblings have completed their flight plan too. As I think of all the freshman women heading into their first collegiate volleyball seasons, I hope success follows them in whatever form they perceive it and that their fathers share the same lump and tear of pride that I have in both my daughters.
Needless to say she made that traveling team those many months ago, and last month when she got to play in the state all star game in that same university field house, we sat in for tryouts I thought we had come full circle. Now I’m not so sure. I think we’ve just added another ring and the ride continues.
I pray she travels well.
----
Thank you, Husker. I am sure your daughter will thrive and succeed at school. With this kind of love and support ^^^ from her family, I don't see how it could turn out any other way.
-The Dude
posted by Joe at
9:26 AM
1 Comments:
Well said. We will be sending our two of our three boys off to college next weekend. Both are pitching at D1 schools in the northeast. Last year I began the experience of baseball coaching withdrawl, this year it will be X 2, which I am not looking forward to, but alas, have no choice. I suppose by the time the first one graduates, I'll finally have become used to the empty nest. Then the bastards will end up coming home and living with us again for 4 more years while trying to earn a living. DAMMIT.
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