Alfamehl

I’ve known that it’s been coming for some time… He’s been making plans and preparing, and his mother and I have been helping when needed. But it’s coming a little sooner than I would like. The oldest of my three children is moving out on his own today.

It’s been a long time coming, 25 years coming, and a week hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about days like this. When our first child was born, friends and colleagues shared stories of their parenting experiences that filled me with dread. Tales of “the terrible twos“, middle schoolers who wanted nothing to do with their parents, teens who disappeared with the family automobile, and young adults who left home to never be heard from filled my head.

I suppose that now is a good time for some background. So many friends have told me that they were happy when their kids moved out, which has left me with the impression that I am an odd ball. I adore my kids, and I absolutely love having them around… When my wife and I have celebrated our wedding anniversary, Valentines Day, birthdays, or any other notable event, the kids were there with us. They’ve always been a part of what we did as a couple.

As the kids grew older, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop… waiting to experience what others had shared… and I kept waiting, and waiting. As parents, we didn’t share in those experiences; that credit goes to my wife, as many that know me will attest, I can be a difficult friend/spouse/team-mate. Our children remained engaged, loving, and present. And as they became young adults they were a pleasure to be near.

During the years that our kids were finishing University, their mother and I were living abroad in Europe. I recall a conversation in which we were inquiring what each of them were planning for Spring Break so we could make travel arrangements to get them to Florida with their friends. Each had responded that they wanted to spend the break with us. My heart swelled.

I enjoy seeing my children each day, listening to stories of their lives. I continue to tell myself that this is not the other shoe dropping. I am so excited for this next chapter of my child’s life and the world that is opening to them. I’m certain that I’ll continue to see my son and hear from him regularly. But right now, my heart (like so many other parents in this situation) hurts at the prospect of not being able to hug him “whenever”.

If you’re able, give yours a hug, and as always, be intentional.

So… here’s the story as told to me during a recent leadership conference:

While lunching with fellow writers at The Algonquin Hotel in Manhattan, renowned author Ernest Hemingway offered a wager with each person sitting at the table. Hemingway told each of them to put ten dollars in the middle of the table; if he was wrong, he said, he’d match it. If he was right, he would keep the entire pot. Hemingway claimed that he could craft an entire story in only six words. The other writers balked, and after the pot was assembled in the center of the table, Hemingway wrote “For sale: baby shoes, never worn” on a napkin, passed it around the table, and collected his winnings.

I was impressed by the simplicity of the story and struck by the power of 6 only words. Questions began to form in my head… My mind began to piece together the words and fill the gaps in what I saw as a tragic event. Others that I spoke with had different takes on the story which confirmed the power in Hemingway’s message.

The moderator of this session of the conference had shared their own six word story based on personal experiences, and after a short discussion challenged the members of our break out group to come up with their own message. Given the nature of the  message that the instructor had shared, I felt challenged to share my thoughts and feelings – they had opened up during their story, and I had come to the conclusion that for my message to resonate with my colleagues, that I would need to share of myself.

Guiding hand lost, always with me

This story is a reference to my father. I was blessed to have a relationship with my dad that I have always appreciated, but was far beyond my comprehension as a young man. As years passed, my understanding of what he had shared with me became more clear. He was a constant presence in my life sharing his wisdom, love, & values. He was the confidant who coached, mentored, & supported me in the decisions that would be the foundation for who I would become.

And years after he has passed on, I regularly recognize his influence in my thoughts and actions as a professional, friend, and parent.

What’s your six word story?

As always, be intentional