Writing is my artistic expression. My keyboard is my brush. Words are my medium. My blog is my canvas. And committing to writing daily makes me feel like an artist.
Today is the first day of Birthweek. My wife doesn’t just get a gift on her birthday, she gets a little something every day of the week leading up to her birthday. This isn’t a family practice. My kids and I don’t get it, it’s just birthweek for my wife. It started when we were dating and has been a tradition for almost 30 years.
For me it’s pretty special. My wonderful wife buys almost all the gifts for family events. She even bought a couple gifts for herself for this birthday. But be it Christmas or anyone else’s birthday, she is the one buying a thoughtful gift from both of us.
My job is birthweek. A small card with a few kind words, a scratch and win lottery ticket (I buy 7 a year, just for this week), and a small gift each day, with a nicer gift on her birthday.
You might think it has become a chore after all these years. I will admit the small gifts can be challenging, trying to not overdo it, but also not just get something tacky or frivolous. But there is a gift in being a gift giver. There is the thoughtfulness of trying to get something for someone you know they’ll appreciate. And since my wife does the vast majority of the gift buying, this is my chance.
I don’t remember how it all started, but I’m grateful for my wife’s birthweek.
Last year I overcooked the turkey. This year I baked the biggest bird I’ve ever cooked, weighing in at 25.8lbs, and it was cooked to perfection. All the food was delicious.
But more than the food, the company was great. Any time that we can bring family together for a meal is wonderful.
I started writing this in my head just over 7 years ago, in August 2017. We were all in Victoria, and had just finished moving Cassie into her tiny, very green, residence room for first year university.
I was sitting on her bed. As we chatted I thought about what a milestone this was… one of our babies was leaving the nest. I felt overly sentimental, and started thinking about all the ideas below. Over the years I’ve thought of different ways of saying this, always feeling like I’m not doing the ideas justice.
Today I decided that since you are already 25 and almost 23, I need to get these thoughts out. I’ve put off sharing this for too long. So here goes…
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Firsts and Lasts
Dear Cassie & Katie,
I remember.
I remember the moment in the hospital when I first laid eyes on you; the first time I held you, and kissed your cheek. I remember your first smile, (that wasn’t just passing gas), your first laugh, and the first time you said, ‘Da-da’. I remember your first steps. There were so many firsts in those early days and, although they slowed, they still kept coming. From your first tooth to your first tooth falling out. From your first day at daycare to your first day at school. And from your first birthday to your last one as a teenager.
And so it is that I remember many firsts, but unfortunately I don’t remember too many lasts.
I don’t remember the last time you fell asleep on my chest or came running towards me and jumped unabashedly into my arms for a big hug. I don’t remember the last time we were walking together and you reached up to hold my hand. I don’t remember the last time I did a push up with you on my back, or the last time you danced on my feet, or the last time I gave you a piggyback.
And such is life that as we grow up together, parent and child, we carry with us these moments, momentous ‘first’ occasions, but we never know what other forgotten momentsdisappear as we get older. We remember the firsts, not the lasts. We savour the memories of so many special occasions, and we lament those things that we take for granted only after they no longer happen.
I won’t ever forget our Christmases in China and Spain. I will never remember the last story I read to you while you sat in my lap. Firsts… and lasts: Lifetime memories and forever forgotten interactions that fade away secretly. Photographs and movies that play in my mind as well as on film, photo paper, and digital jpg’s stay with me, like first school concerts, and graduations.
Meanwhile I’ll never remember the last time I fed you porridge, or tricked you into eating healthy baby food by burying it under a layer of dessert on the spoon. The fact that I can recall this interaction tells me the memories still resonate. Sure, it may not have been the last time, but I remember feeding you in your high chairs. I also remember the frustration of you trying to feed yourself. Sometimes it was your frustration because it was too much work, sometimes our parental frustration because feeding yourself took so long. But we wanted to give you your independence, and so we let you do it even when it would have been easier to just keep feeding you… and then you just didn’t need us to feed you anymore. It just happens… and after it happened one last time that time was not remembered.
It sounds a bit sad, and in a way it is, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’ve watched my two girls blossom into wonderful young women. I see you as adults that I don’t just love, but love being around. I’ve seen you both develop amazing work ethics, and carry with you a kindness to others that I want to see more of in the world. These things do not happen without forgotten lasts along the way.
And now as you head into adulthood I look forward to many more firsts. You might not dance on my feet anymore but I look forward to my first father daughter dance at your weddings. You might not fall asleep in my arms, but I look forward to being a grandparent and having your kids remind me of that wonderful feeling.
Along the way there will also be more lasts, and while I know they will come too, I will only think of them afterwards, unable to recall when such moments came to an end. Such is life. And so as I look to the future, I can’t wait for more first, and yes, more lasts too. Moments to cherish, milestones to achieve, adventures to experience. Your mom and I are excited to see what our amazing girls do next. We cherish you, your firsts, and your lasts.
We spent a good part of the day shopping for ingredients for some food I remember from my childhood… a simple but delicious turkey stuffing (that doesn’t go in the turkey) and a Caribbean special, Peas and Rice.
And on that note, if anyone knows of a grocery store in Coquitlam that sells pigeon peas, please let me know, we are still on the hunt.
My oldest kid turns 25 today. How did I get to be old enough to have a daughter that old? I only ask that question partially in jest, because there is a part of me that is really baffled about how fast time flies by. I remember holding her in my arms for the first time, her first words, and her first steps. Did all that really start a quarter century ago?
With age, time goes by faster. I think it has to do with reference to the length of our lives. To a 10 year old, 5 years is half of a lifetime; to a 15 year old, 5 years is a full 1/3 of a lifetime. To a 60 year old, 5 years is 1/12 of a lifetime. So that same 5 years is relatively shorter as we get older, and represents less significance to our overall lifespan.
I think about how much my life changed from ages 26-31… I moved to BC, met my wife, started my career in education, got married and bought a house. Then we started a family and the next 5 years are a blur of joy, stress, and core memories of our kids having first experiences.
In comparison, the last 5 years have felt a lot more like status quo, and have seemed to fly by a whole lot faster. I can remember the excitement of starting a new school year, and now it’s already just a week away from the Christmas holidays… where did the last 3 and a half months go?
I remember my mother-in-law saying to me that she didn’t know where the time went, and how she felt that she was a young person in an old body. I think of that now because about 26 years later I realize that I’m almost the age she was when she told me that. Is this just a cycle of life that the older we get, the more we recognize that time speeds up for us?
Today my oldest daughter turns 25. This is a reminder to me that I’ve got to value the time I have, and to spend it wisely… no matter how fast it seems to fly by.
It’s officially the first time that I listen to Christmas music… while decorating the Christmas tree. Usually it’s a bit earlier than this, but our weekends have been a bit busy these past few weeks.
I still remember the first Christmas with both of my girls. I remember decorating my tree as a child. I remember the first year my wife and I bought matching Christmas decorations… a tradition we keep to this day, adding our daughters in as well.
We aren’t religious, and we don’t have a lot of family traditions, so little events like this feel pretty special.
Before I share this, no, it’s not a reflection on my parenting. I’m not wallowing in worry about how I’m messing my kids up. This is just one of the most powerful comics I’ve ever seen, and I think about it a lot as a school principal. Also, profanity warning for the comic below.
Now that I’ve got the disclaimer out of the way, let me share that I think this is one of the most challenging times to grow up in the last few decades. More young adults are living longer with their parents, or committing long hours to be able to afford rent. Many have not hit 25 yet and they don’t see themselves ever owning a house, or having a back yard like the one they had as a kid. Many more are disillusioned by what they see in the news and on social media.
Meanwhile, parents are doing their best not to make the mistakes of their parents, and yet struggling to navigate what that looks like. Some parents are doing all they can to help a disengaged kid stay in school. Others are lost trying to figure out inappropriate behavior. Still others are doing everything to protect their child, but preventing them from learning from failure. And still others are doing everything ‘right’, which works for one kid and doesn’t work for another.
And those are the resourceful parents that are trying their absolute best. They aren’t the divorced parents who fight in front of the kids every time the kids are passed off. They aren’t the ones struggling with their own demons of abuse, drugs, or mental illness. Still doing the best they can with the skills they have, but just not skilled in ways that support their kids.
We don’t want to make the same mistakes our parents did. We don’t want to follow the same patterns. That can be, but probably isn’t, a disparaging complaint about our own parents. Rather it’s a recognition that we want to do better, be better.
But try as we might, family dynamics is challenging, the world we live in is challenging, and this comic sums up the parenting challenge perfectly.
It’s such a fun concept to sit at a table with a barbecue grill in the center, and be served a plate of raw meat. Hotpot is similar. Food served uncooked, and finished at the table to your liking.
My wife isn’t a fan of meat platters for dinner, but my daughters are. So, off to the restaurant I want with my youngest daughter, and we devoured a meal for two that could easily have fed 3 people… but we were both hungry and devoured everything. Simply delicious!
It was a different kind of Thanksgiving this year, the first one where both of our daughters were not with us. We went to my sister and brother in-laws, who were also without kids, and we had paella. It was delicious, I can honestly say that I didn’t miss having turkey.
I want to take a moment and be thankful. Thankful for family and friends. Thankful for good health. Thankful to be living in a prosperous country by global standards, and thankful that it is a democracy. Thankful to live in a beautiful country that is very green and very clean. Thankful for a great job where I can contribute my services to a meaningful cause for a good wage. Thankful for access to delicious food any time that I’m hungry.
It’s when we don’t have these things that we miss them most. The fact that I do have them should not go without appreciation and thanks. I have much gratitude for the life I live, and the people I get to spend it with. 🙏
Today my youngest daughter leaves the house for 6 weeks. It will be the longest time that my wife and I won’t have a kid in our house since our first daughter was born almost 25 years ago. It really makes me question, ‘Where does the time go?’
On the note of time flying by, I have no memory of when I started this, but for much of their teen and all of their young adult lives, I’ve had a little tradition for when I see my daughters off. Be it for a trip like this or even for a night out. In addition to ‘Love you,’ I always say, ‘Be safe, be smart.’
The response I enjoy hearing is, “Always.”
Four simple words of advice that probably give me more comfort than they give my daughters, but they both receive the advice and respond with polite grace… and at this point in my life, I think they will be living in their houses with their own families and I might still keep this tradition going.
And for anyone out there that needs to hear it, as you head out of the house and onto new adventures, be it a night out or a trip around the world, let me share a little advice: Be safe, be smart!
