Making Dad Proud

Every March 25, the date my Dad was born in 1918, I try to remember to set aside time to think about him. I suspect many of you do something similar to mark milestone dates in your lives. Honoring Dad and Mom is one small way to keep them close to my heart. What are your rituals for honoring the people who gave you life and/or nurtured you through childhood?

The direction my thoughts take on days like this vary from year-to-year. When it occurred to me I am less than seven years younger now than Dad was when he was taken from me, my reflections turned inward. What things that I do now - or will do - will make whatever time is left to me count? Though I'd love to have had an opportunity to ask Dad if he'd ever asked himself that question - in the middle of his 73rd year or ever, for that matter - I'm pretty sure he would have scoffed at it. Both he and my Mom said to me more than once in my younger years, "Patrick, you're too serious". 

They were right. Still, as my thoughts today bounced from Dad to myself and back, that question did give me pause. My family, my friends, my music, my reading, my writing, my exercise, my meditation, my activist and volunteer work, my teaching, my wanderlust. All are things that give me joy. And I believe each of them, to varying degrees, will help make my remaining time count. But each also require attention and commitment. 

So I must remain mindful that making my remaining time count has elements that don't readily fit into a perpetually focused, goal-oriented blogger's worldview. First, I must stop long enough to congratulate myself when I reach a goal and forgive myself when I don't. More important, I must never become so pre-occupied that I forget how critical it is to recognize, congratulate, and forgive others, especially anyone who is struggling. Making my time count by being that kind of person would have made my Dad proud. I've always aspired to that.