Being There

When my father died unexpectedly (although at age 104 death is never entirely unexpected) my son Craig and his family were on vacation in Hawaii.  There were no direct flights to Los Angeles that would arrive in time for the morning funeral, so Craig arranged to fly back via Seattle. He showed up ten minutes before it began.

I call that, “being there.”  When it really counts, there is no substitute for showing up for those you love.

When I was young, I promised myself that I would personally attend all the important events in my Childrens’ lives.  Piano recitals, elementary school graduations, Father/Daughter Days – every single one.  My mother had set a wonderful example by always being there for me, and my dad was also there whenever it counted.

Perhaps today we are all busier than we were years ago.  We have many distractions, not the least of which is the cell phone.  I still remember the Dick Tracy comic strip in which I saw my first, fictional, two-way wrist radio.  “What a great idea that is,” I thought.  (Though of course, I never believed it would really happen.)

But, in the final analysis, we all exist on a human level.  We need talk, touch, and support to survive and prosper.  This is especially important for our children.

Last weekend I spent a beautiful Friday afternoon at a track meet where my 13-year-old grandson ran the 1,600-meter race.  On Sunday afternoon I attended a performance of the musical Urinetown, performed by another grandson’s high school drama department.  I still remember, almost fifty years ago, enjoying my daughter Jill’s performance as Vera in a Junior High School performance of Auntie Mame.  These are memories I treasure.

I’ve heard it said that when we look back on our lives, no one ever wishes they had spent more time at the office.  I certainly don’t.

Instead, in looking back, may we smile with delight as we relish the times we’ve spent doing what’s really important – simply being there.

Alan