As the planet continues to spin, time seems to move faster every day. Are we putting into the world what we want to see come back? When we see the next generations reflect their upbringing, what is it showing us?
In today’s post, Josey shares a recent day that was heavy with emotional reflection. Unlike the many cleverly staged, or honest celebratory posts we see parents sharing of Back-to-School day, Josey begrudges the silence. The empty seats and the missing brotherly banter are a weight in his step. It happens every year, but this year added something different. Read on to find out more…. Heather
The sun was just starting to peek up over the pines as I opened the gate. In the distance I could hear the diesel truck come up our driveway. As the truck pulled up, the passenger’s window rolled down and the words, “love you daddy” slipped by the sound of the diesel engine running. I stood there with the puppy who is only a puppy at heart now and watched our oldest drive off to school. Before my mind could wrap around the idea of him being old enough to drive, my wife pulled up in her Jeep with the youngest in the front seat. The youngest said, “love you daddy”, and my wife had that look of Monday morning coming down. As they drove off, I closed the gate, and the puppy ran down the fence to see them fade into the distance. I was not worried about the oldest boy driving. For a year now he has been driving our other trucks and routinely pulls a 20-foot trailer behind our one-ton truck. I was sad to see him drive off. This was the first day of school and now my summer helpers were gone. Since I retired, they have worked for the family business during the summer. Now it’s just me and the puppy.
My father was a man of few words, but the ones he stated I took note of. I recall my first real job offer back in 1990 and I knew that meant moving away from home. Dad stood in the barn and said, “nest ain’t meant to stay in”. He wrote me a letter later where he said he sat on an old tire in that same barn and cried when I was gone. I often think of my father’s words and the father he was. He said more than once he knew nothing about being a father because for the most part, he did not have one. He said he did the best he could which in my opinion he did a good job. There are times I feel that dad and mom gave me too much of a leash, or I did not have enough sense to stay off the road while on that long leash. As with all generations, times change, and it appears our goal is to guarantee that our children have a better or more complete childhood than we did.
After ten years of marriage my bride informed me that if we were going to have children the clock was ticking. I guess I thought I could save the planet as I call it, and then we would have children. Deep down I wanted to be a dad, but I thought my job could do more for society than being a dad. My bride never showed me the clock that was ticking but I could see time was slipping by me. The seasons would come and go, and the planet seemed to just keep spinning. One day while perched high in a tree I realized it was time to try and make a difference in another direction. That maybe a child could balance me and my job to save the planet.
The task of bringing the oldest boy to this planet proved to be a journey but finally the day came, and I sat with him in my arms in that hospital room. He watched me eat peanut butter and jelly on crackers and I explained we come from a long line of people who eat peanut butter and jelly on crackers. Within a week he was riding in our 1948 Willy’s Jeep and riding in a backpack designed for infants. I did not slow down because of him but just made room for him. It did not take long to realize we had brought another set of hands onto this planet, and he was more than our son but the future. I knew nothing about being a dad, but I had trained some dogs. Our dog was well discipled so I decided that would be the foundation that I would start from. Dogs always respond better to positive re-enforcement but there are sometimes dogs have to be corrected. I recall one time my father took me to wood pile and corrected me. It was the walk to the wood pile that hurt not the small stick he hit my butt with. The only trip I ever took to the wood pile, but if you ask my journey growing up probably could have used a few more trips to the wood pile.
After two years the arrival of the second set of hands we added to the planet came to our house. Once again that task was also a journey but another blessing. I can say we had the first two-year part figured out, but every day was a learning curve going forward. I stuck to my foundation that dogs love to be loved, love a routine, love to know their place, and they need to know the rules. I never sheltered our dog from the world we live in. Though she never saw firsthand the trauma the planet can produce she saw it in me when I would come home. I learned as a child that non accepting kids at school can cut you deep, but it’s the love of a dog that can heal those wounds.
The experts have a term called world views, which means how we see the world and how our role fits into the world. I often see trauma attach like a sticky spider web when our world views are attacked by the unseen path of the not so perfect storm. When the storm of life violently and suddenly pulls on that leash that seems to guide us, trauma attaches. Our brain locks on to the not-so-positive memories and files them as dissociative memories. The next time our five senses detects anything that resembles that not so perfect storm, the leash is pulled, trying to keep us out of the road. As our boys grew, I guess I was growing too. I recalled how my parents made it clear that life was not fair and if you wanted something bad enough work for it. My father worked in a rock quarry, so he did not have a lot of trauma to bring home with him, but I did. I did not hide from our boys the world that called me out in the middle of night. They would ask questions about my job, and I explained what I did, but I never gave them a very detailed picture. I never said daddy had a bad day but a sad day.
When the boys asked the question “Can we get a video game”, our answer was no. I said, “life is not a video game, there is no restart button”. I could tell they did not like our answer or my explanation, but my entertainment growing up was the woods that surrounded our home and the chores we had to do to live there. I wanted to be their best friend and I wanted them to look at me as the greatest dad, but I had to remember they were not just our sons but the next ones in line to keep the planet spinning in the right direction. It is hard to tell a child no but in life they will hear the word no often, and I think they should hear it from someone they trust first.
As I walked away from the gate, the not-so-puppy ran around me as if I was a walking chew toy that she could not get ahold of. I explained to her it would be too hot today for her to go with me so she would have to stay in the house in her crate. As though she understood every word when we walked in the house, she went in her crate without being told. As I drove the hour and fifteen minutes to where I was working that day the ride was different. No boys in the truck talking, just classic country songs playing with the windows down. My father was not big on air conditioning. We never had it growing up in our vehicles or in our home. He said, “it softens a man who has to work in the heat”. When I was younger, I never really understood that statement, but I do now. We do have air conditioning in our home but most of the time my windows are down when I’m driving, and I can feel the air that God gave us to breath. I can smell the earth as I pass the cotton and peanut fields. I spent the day surrounded by trees and saw a few other people but only from a distance. Though there was no trauma attaching to me like a spider web, it was a sad day. But this is life. The nest in every tree was empty and I was back to being a simple man on his path. A man who realized the clock was ticking and decided to bring more hands into the world to help the planet spin. A man who never read a book or took a class on raising children. A man who simply compared raising children to training a dog. A man who fought the urge to say yes to his boys when he really wanted to say yes, but it was in the best interest of the world to say no. My day was long and hot, but in my head was the song that played when I shut the truck off. George Jones sang about “Who’s gonna fill their shoes”. I wonder whose gonna fill those shoes when I’m gone from here. Who is gonna work in jobs that no one seems to want? Who is gonna stand on the front line and defend our country? Who is gonna insist their children have manners and show respect?
For me, my mind captures a moment in time and tries desperately to process it and find the proper file folder for it. Some of the moments I ponder on for days and its not until I write the event down that it calms the gears in my mind. The day that followed watching the oldest drive off for the first time my mind spun and spun. The next day was not much different until I stopped at the only red light in a very small town on my way home. I looked out the truck window at a small restaurant which displayed a sign about the daily special and bible verse.
The bible verse said, “Withhold not discipline from the child; for if you strike and punish him with the rod, he will not die”. Proverbs 23-13. I know very little about the bible to be honest. The most time I ever spent with the bible was on our honeymoon. Our Harley developed an oil leak from a bad gasket, so I made a gasket from cardboard. I needed the bike to set up close to level so I could replace the gasket and the only thing in the hotel room the right size to fit under the kick stand was the bible. I thought I fixed the leak but the next day on Sunday the leak was back. As we sat at a gas station on our honeymoon trying to figure out what to do, I was convinced the way I used the bible was a bad idea. A man walked up and said, “Looks like you need a Harley mechanic”. Though I wanted to respond to his comment in a very negative way I reframed. The man said, “I work at a Harley shop, and I will get what you need and be back.” I debated writing this event on paper and sharing it with strangers until I saw that sign in front of that restaurant. Not sure if it was God’s way to tighten my leash or pet my hard head but for a simple man who used a bible as a shim on his honeymoon, I got the message.
It’s 4:40 am and I sit here chicken pecking these words to you. As the oldest boy drove off the other day, I realized his truck is nicer than any vehicle I have ever owned. At the age of 16 he put 10,000 dollars down on a truck with money he earned. Money, he earned working for the family business that we started once I retired. Some days we leave at 4 am and get home at 6 at night. We worked last Christmas morning at 3 am and it was in the 20’s which is very cold for us in the south. There are plenty of days during the summer its over one-hundred degrees and pushing almost 100 percent humidity, but the boys still work. The oldest boy now has a monthly truck payment, and on those early mornings when I ask him if he wants to work, he rolls out of bed and says, “yes Sir, I have to make my payment”.
The American dream to me is work hard and acquire the things you need to survive, but also do your part to keep the planet spinning in the right direction. I’ve told our boys more than once you may not like my decision, but my job is to raise productive members of society to carry on what a bunch of people have given their lives for. For some of us it’s an easy mindset due to our exposure to society. When a child or teenager shows no respect to an adult it sickens my stomach. It makes me want to retreat to the woods where the influence of man is minimal. There is no perfect textbook or guide to raising a child and every child is different, but respect, honor, and a strong moral compass is our jobs as parents who brought this set of hands into this world. Its not the job of the teachers, it’s our job.
In the early morning hours, I threaded a recently shot quarter on the oldest boys set of truck keys. It was my way of letting him know his daddy is with him. The boys have never read the books or the blogs but maybe one day when their path directs them, they will learn about the heart of their dad and his reasoning for the way they were raised. I’m confident that my father had the words in him, but the best he would do was sit on an old tire and cry when I left home.
The other day we had a satellite man at the house. When he was done, he asked, “how did we raise our boys”? I said, “Why do you ask?” He said, “I have been in a lot of houses, but no kids have ever asked me if they can help me and have shown me respect and manners like in this house. I have small kids at home and just want some advice.” I said, “it’s not your job to be their best friend. It is your job to raise productive members of society. Remember when you are about to lose your mind to tell yourself in twenty years, I will wish you were here driving me crazy and then take a deep breath.” The satellite man said, “that’s it?” I said, “pretty much just raise children to treat others as you wish children would treat you”.
Our lives are governed by time, unlike our four-legged friends in our homes and the ones outside these walls. It’s time for me to make breakfast for our boys and make their lunches. It’s time for me to stand at that gate and realize a nest is not meant to stay in. It’s time for me to realize I never did save the planet, but I did my part to maybe help it spin in a more positive direction. It’s time for me to realize that long leash my parents gave me was too long, but for some reason I was meant to make it to this point. It’s time for me to realize that even though the oldest boy has not said a word about the shot quarter on his truck key chain he got the message, and he is like his grandpa who had the heart but not the words. It’s time for me to realize I did the best I could with raising our boys and the shoes will get filled and the hands will spin the planet in the right direction. It’s time for me to realize that even though our boys have a very realistic view of the world and how they fit into it, trauma and the perfect storm will find their way to them. It’s time for me to realize their faith in life, their faith in God, and their short leash upbringing will prepare them for the road ahead and the clouds that seem to linger. It’s time for me to realize that raising a child is the hardest job I will ever have but the most rewarding job that God gave me. -WLV-
