The Daddy Diary

I belong to several writer’s groups on social media, and this morning an author on Twitter asked other writers to simply write about what is outside their window.  I thought I would play along, so I opened the blinds and peered out the window into my backyard.

I couldn’t see much through this window because it hasn’t been cleaned since the early Nixon administration.  I doubt the author wanted me to describe the cobwebs and translucent film that blurs my vision of the backyard.  I give myself some grace for not cleaning the window because looking at the construction of this late ’60s built house, I realize that it would take the better part of a weekend and the jaws of life to remove the screen and enable me to reach the exterior glass.  

During a routine visit to one of Audrey’s doctors yesterday, the nurse said, “I know you’ve heard this before, but she is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.” I told her that I already knew that and that even though I am biased, her observation is correct. Now, I realize that Audrey technically isn’t a baby anymore because she is three years old, but she is quite tiny for a child her age. I guess that is one advantage of having a child with CHARGE Syndrome – because they are delayed with many aspects of their development, we get to hold on to those baby years a lot longer than most parents. Regardless of whether she is technically a baby or not, the point is that Audrey’s cuteness is off the charts.

But wait, what charts?

I’m not sure I was emotionally ready for another dog. My little buddy crossed the Rainbow Bridge just a few months ago. But somebody dumped this sweet girl and her sibling, and she needed a home. And it was heartbreaking hearing Ella say, “Daddy, we don’t have a pet anymore. Gus is dead.”

So we agreed to foster this sweet girl. I could tell within five minutes that there was a 103% chance this dog was never leaving our home. And I was right. So we adopted her. Just a tip – Don’t let a four-year-old name the dog. There isn’t a spec of any color but white on this dog and Ella named her Rainbow.

I still miss Gus. I feel like I’m cheating on him every time I give Rainbow a belly rub, which is approximately every seven minutes. I’m not sure how long it takes to fully let go. On some level, I probably never will. But Rainbow needed a loving home and lots of belly rubs. I hope Gus can forgive me.

I’ve always loved Thanksgiving. It’s the one day of the year that I don’t regret turning my stomach into a gastrointestinal clown car to see how much I can fit it in. In the midst of my second round of belt loosening and a serious case of the meat sweats, I display the triumph of the human spirit and find room to stuff in one more piece of pecan pie. And my love of Thanksgiving isn’t just because I get to spend time with my family and eat enough to feed several herds of elephants, It’s also the start of the most wonderful time of the year.

Ella: “Daddy, are you getting older?”

Daddy: “Yes, Sweetheart. We are all getting older.”

Ella: “How old was your daddy when he died?”

I knew where this was going. Ella has been talking about death quite a bit lately. I don’t think it’s a morbid curiosity. They’ve been talking about heaven in Sunday school, and after Gus died, I think her five-year-old brain is trying to process life and death.

Daddy: “He was 73.”

Ella: “You aren’t close to 73 are you?”

Daddy: “No, Sweet Pea. Daddy is a long way from 73. I’m going to be here a long time.”

Ella: “That’s good. I don’t want you to die.”

I don’t know the proper age to start being fully open and honest with your children, but I decided that it wasn’t five years old. So I didn’t tell her that I was waiting on the results of a prostate biopsy.

I read this article in the Dallas Morning News a couple of weeks ago.

https://edition.pagesuite.com/infinity/article_popover_share.aspx?guid=b137bcf5-a23b-455f-976c-7297f291cc14

No need to fret if the link doesn’t work.
The article discusses how the birth rate in the U.S. is declining. Several of the people interviewed cite global issues like the economy and climate change for not having children.

I’ve heard this argument before. The cynical side of me says these people are saying this because they simply don’t want children and use external factors to give them justification for their decision.  It makes them sound like they are doing a favor for the unborn child. “Why would I bring a child into a world like this?”

Believe me, I get it. Society seems to look down on you and deem your life incomplete if you don’t have a family. I didn’t have children until much later than most people, and I can’t begin to count the number of times someone asked me, “When are you getting married and having kids?”

If someone genuinely did not want to have children, I would tell them please don’t give in to peer pressure – don’t have children. Despite what society might tell you, being a parent isn’t for everybody.  Raising a child is not a take-it-or-leave-it proposition. You have to be all-in or all-out. So, if someone has personal reasons or preferences for not having children, no judgment from me.

Here’s my problem with using external factors like climate change to justify not having children – you can make this argument for any year in human history. Try to find a specific year when you couldn’t throw out a litany of reasons to be pessimistic about the future.

Humankind has survived much worse, and we still find a way to keep evolving and increasing our standard of living. People were having babies during the Bubonic plague, famines, natural disasters, and world wars.  We have persevered through very difficult times.  We even survived the 14 weeks when the Macarena was #1 on the Billboard charts.  We can survive this.  I’m not saying today’s issues aren’t concerning, I’m just saying we will find a way to prosper.  It might not be easy, but we will.  And your children will do just fine.

I can look at my own parents as an example. They decided to have their first
child in the late 1960s. What an optimistic time in human history to have a
child:

·        We had the Six-Day War in the Middle East

·        The U.S. was mired in the Vietnam War. In fact,
LBJ just asked for a 6% increase in taxes to support the Vietnam War. That’s
how great the war effort was going.

·        There were race riots in Cleveland, Detroit, and
Newark.

·        China tests its first hydrogen bomb.

I could go on.

Good times, huh?

Despite all that, they decided to bring a child into that world.  And then my parents decided to have another child (they weren’t aiming for two, but they got lucky) in the early ’70s when things were looking so much better.

·        The Pentagon Papers were published proving that
the U.S. government had been lying to the American people. We also had the Kent
State massacre. Things were definitely getting better in Vietnam.

·        President Nixon declared a “War on Drugs” because the drug culture in our country was out of control.

·        And worst of all, the Beatles broke up. Who in their right mind would bring a child into a world where the Beatles weren’t topping the charts?

When speaking to people like those interviewed in the article, I won’t even discuss the geopolitical ramifications of a country having a declining population or the hypothetical “but your kid might be the one who solves the climate change issues and saves the planet.” No, I would just tell them that my life became infinitely better after I became a dad. Not easier, not less stressful, but infinitely better.  There are numerous ways in which my life improved after becoming a dad, but it would take an entire book to list them all.

I don’t know any people who regret having children.  I’m sure some people do, but my guess is the regret is due to personal reasons and not global warming.

So, I would just tell those people, I see your inflation and climate change, and I’ll raise you an Ella and an Audrey. You might want to fold if you know what’s good for you.  No hand can beat this pair.

Dad loved to fish. He grew up in Biloxi where fishing is a way of life. It’s hard to understand for those who don’t fish, but it was in his blood. He was happiest when he was on the water.

So Scott, our cousin Craig, and a friend Steve and I went fishing last week. I debated going because I’m so dang busy right now, but something kept telling me that I needed to go. Maybe I’ve got some of my Dad in me because something kept pulling me to the water. At times it felt like he was sitting in the boat next to me. At other times I kept saying to myself,

I’m the early riser in our family. Michelle gets up a couple of hours after me. I went on my usual run that morning and got back home around 5:30 am. When I opened the door, I felt a dagger plunge straight into my heart. I saw Michelle sitting on the edge of the couch, and I immediately knew.

There was no other reason for her to be up that early. She told me the vet called and said Gus’s heart stopped last night. They tried to revive him but couldn’t.

They say that you never fully get over your first love. I’m pretty sure that I will never fully get over my first dog, and Gus was the first dog that I ever had. His addition started our transition from a couple to a family. And now he’s gone.

Because I lost my little buddy last week, It seemed appropriate to share another excerpt from the book. This post is a little long, but Gus deserves an entire chapter to himself. I’m sure I’ll have more to say about Gus in the near future.

I wrote this over two years, and I had no idea at the time how true that last line would be.

Chapter 3: Gus – The Bulldog Beta Test

Since Michelle and I were both considered geriatric in terms of baby making, we thought it might take a while for us to get pregnant.  We assumed that we would have to wait a year or two until my little swimmers did their job.  We made the decision to move downtown into a high-rise loft figuring this would be the only chance we would have to live that urban lifestyle.  It sounded like fun – not needing a car, walking everywhere, going to a different bar or restaurant every night, working our way through a line of panhandlers like a running back breaking through the line of scrimmage, watching drunks throw up in the street, driving at .01 mile per hour during rush hour. 

I finally got Covid. Tested positive on Tuesday. Much like Wordle, I was late to the game with this one. While most of the world was getting infected, I held out as long as I could. Dare to be different, that’s what I say. But I finally caved to peer pressure and went ahead and got infected. As did everyone else in my family. Even little Audrey. Don’t worry, she’s fine. If you think a little virus is going to slow her down, you haven’t been reading my blog.

The silver lining of being quarantined with my entire family is that I get to eat lunch with my girls. And today, for some reason, it was extra special. Sometimes the smallest things stop me in my tracks. There is nothing more ordinary than watching a child take a bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and yet nothing hits me harder. As I watched Audrey eat her sandwich, a smile covered my face from ear to ear because I remember a time when I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to see this.

My mind took me to a park bench outside Cook’s Children’s Hospital. It was there that I sat by myself waiting for the results of Audrey’s swallow study. Because of CHARGE, we didn’t know if Audrey would ever be able to swallow. Think about that. Some people with this syndrome spend their entire lives having to feed through a feeding tube. Audrey had to take a test to see if she was even physically able to swallow.