Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

So it came again.  The anniversary of the moment I lost you.  I used to love August because it was your birthday month, and it is so cool how you were the 6, Bryan is the 6, and Carina is the 6.  Now it just makes me sad because honestly, August 4, 2005 was the worst day of my life.  You always joked that you would never make it to the retirement age of 65, and you were right, but damn, you were so close.  Mom had a big surprise party planned and everything.  You would have liked it.  Jim and Cathy were coming, and Bill Froelich, and lots of people you really liked.  They all ended up coming anyway, but it was hardly the same.

Thank you for waiting to get your new  heart valve until after my wedding.  I know you scheduled the surgery thinking there may be complications and you didn't want my wedding to be affected.  I love looking at my wedding pictures with you in them.  You always loved a good party, and that definitely was one.

I have to tell you that I miss you every single day.   Every day.  I never wanted to live in this world without you.  You were the one person that always understood me.  Even if my logic was flawed, you got where I was coming from, and you could explain alternative thinking.  When I talked, not only did you listen, you comprehended my intentions.   Almost no one can do that on a regular basis, but you could, always.

There is a saying I like that goes, “It's not what you say, it's how you make them feel that they will remember.”  You always made me feel protected, and loved, and understood.  And there are a few things you said to me that I will always remember.  Once you told me that the people in the world you should respect the most and be nicest to are your family.  When you are in tough times, it's your family that will always be there for you.  Another time you told me that if you can do something that will make another person happy, do it.  It may be a bit out of your way, or not even, but it will mean so much more than it costs you to do it, be it time, money, or whatever.  And you told me I didn't suck as a teenager.  I apologized for my atrocious behavior, and you were like, “I loved your teenage years!  You and your friends were so funny and silly.”  Although we were the only ones that thought it was funny to put sangria in the punch at an eighth grade Halloween party.   I remember you told Michelle's mom that Sangria isn't really alcohol.   She never got less pissed, though.

You also taught me so many things…. The basics like throwing from third to first.  How to catch a firefly, and the best way to counteract nastiness is with kindness.  People taking the low road get bootprints on their face.  You are the on,y person that ever made the surly bartender at Carlos Murphys like you.  He was determined to hate you, but he couldn't.  I mean you bought him a Christmas present!  You were impossible to dislike.  I think half my boyfriends dated me just to hang out with you, and I was lucky enough to marry a man who loved you dearly and loved hanging out with you smoking cigars and drinking scotch.

The day you died, I wanted to die too.  I would have given my life for yours, even though you never would have wanted that.  I know it's horrible to say but I remember being willing to trade my baby for your life.  I don't know if I could have done it, but it was impossible anyway.

I remember when the lines went flat on the heart monitor when they disconnected everything.  I had given my baby to a transgender nurse and I remember thinking how ironic that was since you were just starting to understand that people are people and sexuality is irrelevant.  She was kind and nurturing and she rocked my baby on her hip while the family watched your physical body turn off.  I looked up.  I've seen tv shows and read stories about people hovering over the room when they died, so I looked up, and I told you I loved you, and I thanked you for being my dad.

So today, on the eleventh year anniversary of that horrible event, I went to the beach.  It was a beautiful day, and a took my beautiful almost twelve year old daughter with me.  I wish you could see her.  She is so beautiful, and cool, and quirky like me.  At one point, she took my  hand and said, “I think your dad would have liked you to be at the beach today.  It makes you happy and I know he would have wanted you to be happy.”  She is compassionate, your granddaughter.  You would really love her.

I went into the ocean, and I read in a beach chair.  Bryan came with my little one and Mark’s dad was there, too.  We were a family at the beach, and it was good.  If you were there, we would have had a cooler of contraband beer and possibly a thermos of Captain Morgan, and you would have played in the ocean with my kids, flown kites, and taken a siesta under the sun.

I miss you, Dad.  I miss you everyday.  I try to pass on the many good things you taught me: empathy, and kindness, and honesty and helping people.  There are so many stories and anecdotes about you that I carry with me always.  Sometimes I have dreams that you are still alive, then I wake up in tears.  I guess if I could just tell you one last thing, it would be thank you again.  You made me feel valuable, loved, understood and protected.  I can only hope to be half the parent that you were.  Thank you, Dad.  Really.  Thank you.

Friends: Not The Family You Choose

“Friends are the family you choose for yourself.”  I remember the first time I read that on a poster…or bumper sticker…or t-shirt… Who knows, maybe it was on a gigantic comb in somebody’s back pocket with Ziggy or Snoopy on it.   I thought, “Wow!  That is so true!  My friends are my family!  They are my closest, coolest confidantes, partners in crime, Cosa Nostra!”

That was a long time ago.  Before my children, before my in-laws, before my sister and cousins and friends got married.  Before Mark Zuckerberg’s parents even knew each other!    And I have absolutely reconsidered since then.

In reality, you get to choose very few family members:  your spouse (most of the time.  Plenty of people still don’t get that option,) and in cases of adoption.  That’s it.  Those are your friends who are the family you choose.  The rest of your friends, well, they are your friends, and you get to pick them all. 

I totally understand the spirit of the “friends are family” quote:  You love the friends you choose.  You have special bonds with some friends and are totally connected.  You help each other emotionally and sometimes physically.  You care for their children, their spouses, their parents.  Maybe you would even take a bullet for a friend.  It is an awesome, uplifting feeling to have such great, loving relationships in your life, and you are very lucky, but friends, no matter how close, are friends.  They are not your family. 

I know some people will take issue with my revelation, and I totally understand.  Many times your friends are actually a better support system than the people with whom you share your biology.  I mean when you think about it, your friends WANTED to be there for you.  These one-time strangers put the effort into having a relationship with you because you are/were important to them.  Your brother, on the other hand, tried to irritate you in every way possible, and you STILL had to help him with his homework and sit next to him in a cramped backseat on a pilgrimage of hundreds of miles to see the Corn Palace and Wall Drugs.

The idea that your friends are your family seems to peak during a few occasions in life:  First when you are a teenager through about college.  That is probably the worst.  You are rebelling as best you can, and your family takes the brunt of it.  As you assert your newfound defiance of authority, your parents, the people who have stayed up nights walking with you swaddled in their arms, and dedicated their lives to saving yours, are the first people to get insulted, argued with, and lied to, that is if you are speaking to them at all.  Your friends, kids you just met yesterday in school, are treated like gods.  Their words are taken as gospel.  After all, these people REALLY understand you.  I remember once when I was about 15.  My dad pulled me aside and said, “Listen Kid.  You better rethink your priorities.  Your family is the most important thing.  We will be here for you long after all these amazing friends of yours are nowhere to be found.  You need to think about who you are treating like crap and who will always be there for you.”  I knew he was right even then, and I probably stopped being such a bitch for at least a week.

Another time your friends seem to get elevated status is when you become a mom.  Even though things have been good with your parents for a while, for some reason it’s so much easier to relate to other new moms.  You are in this baby battle together, and your mom can’t possibly navigate the world of baby 30 years after she last had one.  Kind of like soldiers in battle, new mom friends gain an intimate status.  Actually, that’s another time when friends are probably like family: in the military.  I’ve never been in that situation, but intense events push people together, especially when their lives depend on it.

But close as they may be, your friends are not your family.  Your family is all of your ancestors, the people who descended from them, and the children you made, along with anyone you married or adopted.  There are a billion configurations of the modern family, but generally, your family are people linked to you by your past and the choices that your genetic predecessors made, not you.  Do you have to like them?  No.  You should try because family harmony is a beautiful thing, but why would you like a guy who is constantly complaining about foot fungus and doesn’t seem to know what deodorant is?  People don’t want to sit next to him on the bus, but he is your grandmother’s cousin’s son, so you should at least try to be cordial to him at weddings and funerals.  He is your family.  And that loud gin smelling woman who always tells you to get an eyebrow wax, she is your husband’s mother’s aunt.  You don’t have to have a spa day with her, but she is your family.  Even your husband’s cousin’s wife’s adopted Ugandan baby:  family.  That’s just the way it goes.  You don’t have to like everyone, just like every apple on the tree is not that tasty, but they all share the same roots.  Period.

“Friends understand your past, believe in your future, and accept you today just the way you are.”  A cool quote that I completely believe, and if you are really fortunate, your family can be your friends, too.  There is even a special section for that on facebook.

Dear Parents of My Daughter's Friends

Dear Parents of My Daughter’s Friends,

Please let your daughter sleep over at my house.

She may be eleven, but much like 45 is the new 35, 11 is the new 13. And I’m not jumping the gun, either. Our kids are plugged into their worlds like we never could have imagined. While I spent my tenth year on Earth perfecting my backwards roller skating abilities, our kids are building virtual villages, creating commerce and figuring out how to house and feed their creatures. Don’t get me wrong, all tablets are confiscated after a predetermined time period, but there is a lot of complex problem solving going on in virtual reality. In short, our kids are still kids, but they are smarter than we think.

I get it. You don’t know me, hence you don’t trust me, so let’s meet. We don’t have to be best friends who get our nails done together every Friday. We just have to be on the same page with child safety and acceptable behavior. Who knows, though. You might really like me. I have lots of interesting stories and I love finding new, fun things to do with the kids, not to mention I make killer white chocolate chip cookies.

I get it. I’m a mom, too. When the nurse held my little girl to my face for the first time all swaddled in a pink, blue, and yellow striped blanket, my life changed forever. I knew right then that I would dedicate my life to protecting hers. My heart exploded with love that I had never known, and it has gotten bigger with each of her tiny finger clutches, first words, and first everything!

The first day I dropped my amazing child off at preschool, I sat in my car and cried for the entire three hours she was in there. As she learned to socialize and sing the “Clean Up” song, I stared at her empty car seat and called my husband sobbing. I ran into the cute little picketed fence cottage at exactly noon, and I was still crying when I scooped my most precious jewel into my arms and hugged her so tightly I squished the first finger painting she ever made.

So, let’s go to the library, or better yet, come over for coffee, or water with lemon, or a chai latte. In all honestly, I don’t think my parents ever set foot in my friends’ houses except to pick me up from the slumber party. But I get it. It’s a different world, or at least we are more aware of it with so much information at our fingertips. My mom thinks I am a helicopter parent because I see my daughter’s grades online everyday. I tell her to focus on grand-parenting and join Instagram if she wants to know what her granddaughter is doing, but the truth is, we are far more aware of our children's lives than our parents were, so please, for our daughters, let’s know each other to the point where we feel comfortable supervising each other's children.

I don't know about you, but I still remember being tucked into my sleeping bag under Carol Rodney’s dining room table giggling like a fiend with five other girls from our sixth grade class about some joke that wasn't even remotely funny in the morning. And guess what? I'm still friends with at least three girls from that party! Sleeping over with friends helped me develop my social skills, brush up on my manners, and get a glimpse into the non-school lives of my friends. It made my friendships stronger. It made me more independent. It was a rite of passage which I cherish to this day and want my daughter to experience. I'm sure it even made me appreciate my home life to some degree. I mean some of my friends had to do their own laundry! Thanks Mom.

In school, our kids have formed a very cool friendship, and in this school, they will be classmates for many more years. It's an exciting time of life for them, and it is important for them to have good friendships. I know it's sad to think about, but our daughters won't always want to confide in us, at least not at first. Sometimes kids need peer advice, and strong bonds are not forged only on weekdays. Stepping into a facet of life other than school goes a long way in building solid relationships. When your friend advises you to tell your parents, it means a lot more if your friend actually knows your parents.

So please, Parents of My Daughter’s Friends, I would like to invite you and your daughter into my home. Never mind the fact that we live in a gated community with a private police force who has been known to show up in 3 seconds at the report of a possum in the road. I will not take responsibility for you child lightly. I will keep her safe like my own daughter. I will turn off the lights after they fall asleep giggling, and I will make them pancakes with sprinkles if it's ok with you. They talk constantly to each other on their cell phones. They face time, Skype. Your daughter already knows the locations of my bathroom, the refrigerator, and the snack drawer. I know she will be just fine here.

Three New Year’s Resolutions to Quit Right Now, and Two to Keep!

2016!  Who would have thought this year would come?  Certainly not me in my DIY fringed top and parachute skirt blasting the radio on the way see Motley Crue circa 1985.  Speaking of which, hopefully you got your chance to see the Crue.  They officially called it quits at their final concert on the last day of 2015, and unlike KISS, Motley Crue actually signed a contract that they won’t tour again.  These days I guess everything has to be put in writing.  Don’t worry though, I’m sure you will still be able to buy overpriced shirts and hoodies online, and surely an exclusive DVD of THE LAST MOTLEY CRUE SHOW EVER!!!!!  But I digress.

Actually, writing things down has long been considered an effective way to remember them.  It is suggested that physical writing tricks the mind into thinking the action has already occurred, ultimately making it easier to do, so if you made any New Year’s resolutions, hopefully you wrote them down, maybe on a spare cocktail napkin or the instruction sheet for the new Kylo Ren lightsaber that has been wreaking havoc in your house.

Chances are, you didn’t even bother with New Year’s resolutions. According to the Statistic Brain Research Institute, only 45% of Americans make promises for the upcoming year, and with an 8% success rate, it’s easy to see why people eventually just give up the resolution tradition altogether.  For those of us who did resolve to be better, there were pretty big differences between the types of resolutions parents made versus non-parents.  For example, non-parents listed “Fall in love,” and “Help others with their dreams,” as activities to work on in 2016, while parents included things like, “Lock the kids out of the bathroom while I am in there.”  Oh to dream… 

In my experience, reality usually reduces New Year’s resolutions to wishful thinking, so I took a look at some of the actions parents resolved to change in 2016, according to Parents Magazine, and gave them a reality check.

Let’s start with No Children in the Bathroom.  Yes, this was a popular parental resolution, and I’m sure you understand why.  How many times did you utter (or scream,) “I am in the bathroom!!!  Just wait!”?  Fifty?  A hundred?  A million?  Once a sanctuary of solitude, a closed bathroom door means nothing to a child who lived inside your body for almost a year, and spend the next few years being carried around with your faces side by side.  Your personal space doesn’t exist to your children, and of course that includes the bathroom.  But go ahead.  Try locking the bathroom door, and when they are on the other side crying, screaming, and possibly bleeding and you hear some giant crash, see how uncomfortable it is to waddle over and unlock the door with your underwear around your ankles.

Make One Dinner.  Wouldn’t that be nice?  It’s what your parents did, right?  There was one meal.  You either ate it or you went to bed hungry.  Period.  The end.  No bonus PB&J.  You’re hungry?  Well, you should have eaten dinner.  Sounds perfectly reasonable… Until it’s your kid… and she has boycotted the last 3 meals… and everyone has been telling you how skinny she looks… and there is some kind of virus going around so she needs to be strong… and she has a math test tomorrow!   I give this parental resolution a week before it’s, “Ok, you can have some pasta or mac and cheese instead.”  Of course this is all dependent on dinner being made at all.  What about Tuesdays and Thursdays when Kid One has karate at 4, and Kid Two has after school til 6?  Or Friday when Kid One’s drums start at 3:30, followed by karate at 5 and Kid Two has to be picked up from play rehearsal at 5:45?   Hello 7-11!  We will have the apples and peanut butter, two pizza Lunchables, a corn muffin, and a $5 container of grapes please.  On the plus side, this does create a loophole:   I mean technically YOU didn’t make more than one dinner.  Meals are not as easy as they sound.  Maybe you should just save your one dinner fantasy for your dreams where Chris Hemsworth comes over with a bottle of wine in his Thor outfit.

Be More Domestic.  I have to admit, I have made this resolution on occasion.  I should cook more.  I should clean more.  I should have a clutter free counter with a jasmine candle burning.  This is one of those resolutions that can actually be undone by science.  I was a Psych major, and one of the things we learned a lot about was classical conditioning.  Like if a mouse presses a lever and gets food, he catches on pretty quickly that this magic lever is his key to full belly bliss.  Now you, being more stubborn and evolved than said mouse, will take longer to realize that you cleaned and decluttered and cooked, and your kids came home and threw their backpacks on the floor, tossed their socks under a chair and almost knocked your candle off the counter unloading the contents of the fridge or simply pouring a glass of juice.  Go ahead, explain the steadfast rules about putting things away, socks in the hamper, and waiting for dinner.  Explain these rules every day.  Create consequences for breaking them.  I once boycotted doing my daughter’s laundry until she put it all in the basket, and I am serious when I tell you that 3 months later I finally had to stand next to her barking orders like a drill sergeant as she filled up two laundry baskets.  Yes, I threw half her clothes into the donation box, but still, it’s hit or miss to this day.  I’m not saying don’t go for it, but don’t beat yourself up in a few months when the house is still cluttered, there is a dirty sock under every chair, and you have enough leftovers in the fridge to last you a month.  Just like the mouse, you have learned to expect the same results.  You are just not happy about it since you tried to alter yours.  Rather than getting into screaming matches about wayward footwear, maybe do some deep breathing exercises and hang up one of those plaques that say something like “My House is Not Messy.  My Kids are Making Memories.”

There are so many resolutions that parents will waste their breath (and cocktail napkins) on, but there are two that I think should be worked on until they are lifestyle changes:

Stop Smoking.  It used to be the top New Year’s resolution, but not as many people smoke these days.  If you’re one of them, just stop.  Don’t smoke, don’t vape.  There are a billion reasons why, including you are killing yourself in front of your children, and providing an example for them to kill themselves.  Get a patch, chew gum, sew your mouth shut, spend your weekends with lung cancer patients.  Do what you have to do, just stop smoking.  I know it’s not easy to quit smoking, but no one said any part of parenthood was easy.

Get More Exercise!  Exercise is one of those things where you don’t realize how awesome you feel, and then magically, you do.  It’s like all of a sudden you are not panting on the third flight of stairs when the elevator breaks down.  After a few weeks of some regular cardio, you will be breathing better, sleeping better, and feeling better.  Especially in a world where everyone’s face is buried in a cell phone, exercise moves you into the real world and gets your blood flowing.  And it’s great for family bonding.  Kids love their parents’ attention, especially when they can chase them, and tackle them, and ride on their backs in the pool.  Now I’m not talking about training for the Olympics, but walks around the block, basketball in the park, races to the curb, anything that gets you moving.  Plus, there is an entire industry right now catering to the 5k.  There are obstacle course runs, runs where people throw paint on you, glow in the dark runs, and of course runs for every kind of charity.  And you don’t have to run, you can walk.  You can even walk with a stroller.  I think a great New Year’s resolution would be to pick a run, train for it as a family, and do it.  It is never too soon to teach your kids about the importance of exercise, and it’s never too late for you to learn.

So here’s to a great 2016!  As parents, we look forward to more awesome school plays and dance recitals. There will be more birthday parties at the bounce place we have been to a million times.  More field trips and hockey games, scraped knees and missing socks, and maybe if we are really lucky, we will find time to light a jasmine candle and spend an uninterrupted 15 minutes in the bathroom by ourselves.

Attitude is Everything

I am big on quotes, and I just read one of the best quotes ever:  “The problem is not the problem.  The problem is your attitude about the problem.”  Truer words could not be spoken.  And to whom do we owe this awesome insight?  Why Captain Jack Sparrow of course.  He’s definitely more than a drunken, dreadlocked, adorable, Disney pirate!

So with this way cool quote in mind, I am suggesting some positive attitude development strategies that will serve you and your family well.

PUT DOWN YOUR ELECTRONICS!  I get it.  In between your long bouts with facebook and Candy Crush, you are actually checking your work emails.  Stop!  Not all the time, but sometimes.  Make it a point to NOT be the role model for being on a device.  They suck you in, and they suck valuable time away from talking face to face with your kids, or playing cards with them, or writing them a letter you can slip into their book bags.  Childhood goes fast.  Really fast.  Don’t let your days slip away into cyberspace.  There will be plenty of time to email your kids when they move away.  Sniff, sniff.

BUILD SELF CONFIDENCE!  Who doesn’t need more self-confidence?  I can only think of one person and he is only good at firing people on reality TV.  Normal people can always use an ego boost, so pass them out.  Start with you family.  Kids of every age are continually being pushed into uncharted territory.  Your encouragement and praise goes a long way with your kids.  Spend some one on one time and talk about how your child really feels.  Assure him:  It’s ok to be apprehensive.  I was, too.  You’re an awesome writer.  You have great ideas.  You are such a kind person.  I am so proud of you

And while you’re at it, build up yourself.  I really made her feel good.  I really helped ease her trepidations.  I am a good parent.

BE THE ROLE MODEL YOU WANT TO BE!  Start some new positive family traditions.  For myself, I am working on family exercise time.  I think it is important that everyone break a sweat, and not because their character has only one life left.  Move!  And don’t just do anything.  You can get hurt exercising incorrectly (especially you, you’re old.) Learn some proper exercises and do them as a family.  You’ll be doing something together that benefits everyone.  And don’t just do it, explain it.  Knowledge is power, and power creates productivity and self-confidence.

These are just a few of the ways you can help yourself and your family going forward.  Make your own list, and even if it’s just baby steps, go for it.  Attitude is everything.  Pass it on.

Google It!!!

“Look it up!”  I must have heard that a million times growing up.  Seriously, my parents refused to explain anything to me.  They made me go into my room, find the correct volume of the 20 book encyclopedia collection, or the 5,000 lb dictionary, and search for answers.  I’d like to think they were mixing cardio into my homework, but those were the days when we actually had gym every day, WITH an actual gym teacher.

My kids will never know the heft of a disintegrating Merriam Webster.  “Look it up,” has basically been replaced by “Google it,” and although Googling it may be easy, life post internet has its pros and cons.

1.      Pro:  Finding information is easy.

A sentence in a search engine can answer almost any question.  Portable knowledge at your fingertips.  What could be better?  You can find answers, examples, and video tutorials on your phone on the bus.  Who was Charlemagne?  What is the difference between Mandarin and Cantonese chicken?  What were the names of the Wonder Twins?  Data is accessible almost everywhere.  How great is that feeling when you find a coupon for the item you are buying while standing in the checkout line with it?

Con:  Finding information is easy.

Our kids are growing up in a world of instant gratification.  Not only do they lack the patience to thumb through a thesaurus, they can’t even wait 30 seconds for a page to load.  We are growing an impatient society, and often times, the better choice is worth the wait.  Giving up after 30 seconds does not foster a problem solving attitude and the skills that go with it:  Critical thinking, perseverance, creativity, etc.  If Samuel Morse lacked these problem solving skills, we may still be waiting at our outposts for the pony express.  And just think if Steve Jobs lacked critical thinking, creativity, and perseverance!!!

2.      2.  Pro:  Meeting people is easier.

The web connects you to people all over the world.  Chat groups exist for just about everything.  You can commiserate with others about your acne or your parents’ divorce.  You can get helpful advice and feel less isolated.  When I was a new mom for the first time, I didn’t know anyone.  I had recently moved, and the friends I did have either didn’t have kids or didn’t have time.  I found a local moms’ group online and it just might have saved my sanity.  We chatted about new baby stuff, and we had playdates and moms’ nights.  Eleven years later, I still have friends from this group, including some of my closest friends, and our kids are now tween BFFSB (best friends forever since birth!)

Con:  Meeting people is harder.

It used to be that people met in college.  The bookstore line, classes, the laundry room.  Now students are talking to friends they already have, and the real world is just background noise.  There could two kids from the same dorm walking right next to each other will never stop and chat an d build a friendship because one of them is face timing some kid from high school.  Kids are not meeting each other as young adults, nor are they learning the social skills they need in adult life.  Eventually there will be a time to network, and face to face job interviews, and young people won’t be prepared.  Everyone can’t be Lisbeth Salander.  You have to look people in the eye, have a firm handshake, and hold real conversations..

3.   Pro:  Texting.

Texting is the communication of choice these days.  It’s easy. It’s quick.  “I’ll b there at 5.”  “ELA notes attach.”  It’s a convenient way to check in or give a progress report, and it may or may not entail an entire conversation.  “I am back safe” is one of the best texts a parent can get.  Plus auto correct makes for some pretty hilarious interactions.

Con:  Texting.

Texting is often misconstrued and leads to unnecessary altercations.  There is no body language with a text, and an emoji doesn’t quite project a facial expression (though it can get the general temperament across <3.)  For me, the worst part about texting is that the actual art of writing disappears.  No details.  No syntax.  No beauty created with language.  All the great words we have in our language with such subtle differences we need a thesaurus can be replaced by text slang, or a blob man winking.  Semantics is such a wonderful puzzle from which we can form our exact thoughts, including emphasis and tone, and it’s all lost with text when even the simple “be” becomes “b.”  Not only that, but the physical form of writing disappears with it.  Remember all those notes you got in class?  I saved mine in shoeboxes for a while.  Girls had so many flourishes.  Smiley faces dotted the lowercase “I’s and j’s.”  Some kids worked hard at having physically beautiful handwriting, and it was impressive!  Texting has no place for eye catching rhetoric, and there are no conversation traces left behind to indicate any relationships, be them romantic or otherwise.  Nothing to lead us fondly down memory lane.  Our history of communication vanishes, oftentimes with the pictures that accompany it.

Like all things, life after the online universe has its pros and cons.  Of course the internet is great.  So much content that is so accessible.  You can learn more information, faster, and study the world, its history, politics, and atmosphere from a comfy spot on your couch. However, I do think that it’s a good idea to teach your kids the retro way to communicate.  Like you should still learn to add despite the calculator, and you should know how to tie a shoe even after Velcro.  Kids should look things up in a dictionary and thesaurus.  Learn how to read a map and plan a route.  Maybe even (gasp!) hand write a letter in the correct format.  God forbid one day their hard drives will crash!

100,000 Miles

My dad died when my firstborn was 11 months old.  It was pretty sudden, and as you can imagine, pretty horrendous.  My dad was that person in my life who truly understood me.  He always knew where I was coming from, and I always understood him.  When he died, it was the first time in my entire life that I had no one who completely understood me.  I mean I had my mom, my siblings, my friends, and my husband, but even he doesn’t have the kind of intrinsic bond I had with my dad.  My dad was my person, and when he was gone, I was lost.  I didn’t know how I could be me without him, and I certainly didn’t know how I could be a parent without the parent who really understood me and could teach me in ways I totally understood.  And how could my child/children never really know how awesome their grandfather was?  But I had no choice.  That’s when I thought of something my cousin Peter did that always stuck with me.

Peter’s dad and my dad were brothers.  Peter’s dad, my Uncle Frank, had died years before.  It was leukemia, and it was one of the most heartbreaking experiences of my life.  Uncle Frank died long before Peter had any children.  Now, Peter has 3 amazing, friendly, smart, beautiful kids.  I remember once when my family got together with Peter’s.  His kids were sitting around the table telling stories about their “Grandpa Frank.”  They had never met him, but Peter’s kids knew all the great stories and funny quirks and even what their Grandpa Frank would do in a given situation, and they were spot on!  I was dumbstruck.  Peter had told his kids everything about his dad.  From the silly stuff to the important lessons, Peter had kept his dad alive in the lives of his kids.  They may not have met him, but they HAD a Grandpa Frank, and they knew him, and they loved him.  Peter has always been a really cool, fun, caring person, and he is an excellent parent.  I never forgot that day, and now it was my turn.

Since my daughter had known my dad for almost a year, I had pictures of them together.  I made some 8x10s, framed them, and hung them in her room.  We would look at the pictures together, and I would tell her about my dad, “Grandpa Jack.”  When my son came along 3 years later, I showed him pictures of my dad, and introduced him to Grandpa Jack.

As my kids got older, there was more about Grandpa Jack that they learned:  like how he loved walking by Cinnabon in the mall, French burnt peanuts, and the Rolling Stones.  How Grandpa Jack loved lilacs and cardinals, and HATED rye bread with caraway seeds.

Eventually, when my kids could understand, I told them stories:  Like the time the cat puked in his shoe, and when he picked up 10 kids from the bus stop, piled us into his 1971 Toyota Corolla and drove us to school doing donuts in the parking lot (for which he was severely reprimanded but I’m glad he did it!)

The thing about my dad is that he was one of those really likeable guys.  He was funny, insightful, and could make anything and anyone seem important.  He was very honest, sarcastic, and respect and morality were very important to him.  So, if my kids were really going to know their Grandpa Jack, I had to tell the kids about what my dad would say or do in situations, and oftentimes, do them myself.  Of course this is not difficult in most cases.  My dad raised me after all.  He taught me about respect, and morals, and honesty.  He taught me to pay attention to the little things, wonder, and explore.  And when I share these traits with my children, we include my dad, and speculate on what he would think or say.

So the other day, I noticed that my odometer was at 99,989 miles.  Almost 100,000 miles!  I remembered when that 1971 Toyota hit 100,000 miles.  That was a huge event.  Back in the ancient days before Instagram, cars rarely lasted long enough to acquire such mileage.  In fact, I remember the little dials that clicked forward the numbers of the odometer, which didn’t even have a spot for 100,000, and after 99,999, the odometer just went back to zero.  My dad was so excited, it was a family event.  We all piled into the well-worn Corolla, my dad drove as we hovered over him watching the odometer (I don’t think seat belts were invented yet,) and it was like the ball dropping in Times Square when the numbers slowly clicked all the way back to 00,000.

So here I was, almost at the 100,000 mark in digital miles.  I started ramping up the kids.  “Look!  We have almost 100,000 miles on this car!  Do you see these numbers?  That is called the ‘odometer’ and it counts all the miles this car has driven and when it gets to 99,999, all the numbers will turn to zero and there will be a 1 right in front! 100,000 miles!  That’s a lot!  We should all watch it when it happens!”  Of course I told the Toyota story, and actually, the kids were kind of excited.  Every few minutes my 11 year old would ask what number we were on, and we estimated that the next day we would hit 100,000.  We reached our driveway at 99,997.

The next day was Saturday, which was awesome because now the entire family could take part in the odometer party.  The problem of course was that it was Saturday.  The 7 year old was up and dressed by 8am eating breakfast with my husband by 9.  I had two cups of coffee and was putting on gym clothes by 10, and no one had seen the 11 year old at all by 10:30, which means she was under her covers with headphones on watching YouTube videos on her Kindle.  “C’mon everyone!” I proclaimed, “Let’s go watch the odometer hit 100,000 miles!”  My husband was all for it, the 11 year old agreed to go if she could bring her Kindle and stay in her pajamas, and the 7 year old threw himself on the floor proclaiming the adventure “boring and stupid!”  After much negotiation, threats, and yelling, we all got in the car with me excitedly behind the wheel.  This was so great.  I was re-experiencing a fun time I had as a kid with my kids, and I was genuinely psyched! 

While still at 999,997, the 11 year old was screaming that the 7 year old hit her.  The 7 year old then kicked the seat protesting his innocence.  By 99,998 everyone “had” to see a picture on Instagram.  At 99,999, it was a bad time to be a pedestrian in the street in our path.  I turned onto a side street and let the kids take off their seat belts (gasp!) so they could watch.  I had to pull over to adjust my arguing kids who were jostling for position, and as we slowly drove down a small street in a housing project, it happened:  99,999 became 100,000!  We all cheered and pulled over again to take pictures for Instagram, and my heart was bursting for my family adventure, and for my dad.

On the drive back, I started talking about all the trips that made up our 100,000 miles:  The preschool I drove back and forth to for 4 years, the elementary school, dance recitals, concerts, Boston, Florida.  The happy trips to the waterpark and the Liberty Bell.  The sad trips to the vet when we came back with an empty pet carrier.  I asked everyone what he and she thought were our most memorable trips.  My husband said bringing our son home from the hospital.  I said evacuating from Hurricane Sandy.  After “This is stupid,” and “Nothing,” my son said getting his green belt in karate, and my daughter didn’t hear the question since she was listening to Pandora in headphones.

I have to say, so far this is one of my favorite family memories.  We did a Grandpa Jack thing.  We got together as a family and made an event.  It’s the stories and feelings that keep my dad alive for my children.  They are for me to pass on.  I felt my dad right beside me as I made one of his adventures my own, and I know if he were here, Grandpa Jack would have videoed the whole thing and posted it on Instagram.