Druncles… or A Parent’s Final Grade

I call this photo
"Family on the Rocks"
because that's what it is, nothing more.

I want to pose a question to my readers: When do parent’s get their final grade?  When can we say, “this is what I have accomplished as a parent”?

I have my own idea about when I can survey my work as a dad, but I’d really like to hear from you.  Email me or post a comment on Facebook.  In the meantime, I’d like to share a couple grades I’ve gotten along the way.

My mom will turn 98 in a couple months.  Up until February 2012, she had lived with us for the prior 13 years.  She intimately knew the dynamics of our family.  Soon after she moved in with my wife, my four boys, and me she made a rare comment about my parenting.

“I think, sometimes, you are too hard on the boys.”

At the time the boys were 2, 4, 10, 12 years old.  They were just what they should be, rambunctious, energetic, occasionally challenging, but generally delightful kids.  I gently responded to my mom, “Look at those boys, do they seem unhappy?  Do they seem like they're afraid to take a wrong step?”  

Mom smiled broadly and simply said, “Well, no they don’t.  Not at all.”

That was my “first quarter” parenting grade.  Mom was just being a loving mother in her admonition to me, but if “the proof is in the pudding”, a quick look at the well-being of my sons indicated that they were doing just fine and I was being a good dad.

Fast forward a decade and a half.  Mom is now in a nursing home.  She has forgotten that she has a family, still full of happy, rambunctious boys.  We made a rare, out-of-town excursion for Thanksgiving.  All of us (six Smiths plus a daughter-in-love and very welcome girlfriend) held up for 40 hours or so in a small house on a lake in southern Missouri.

I hear horror stories of family gatherings ruined by assorted broken family dynamics.  A common punch line is “the drunk uncle”.  I’ve never had to deal with something like that – or fighting parents or siblings.  I know it happens all the time.  I’m sorry if that’s part of your family story.  All I can think is what a calamity it would be for a Mom and a Dad to look out over the Thanksgiving table at people who couldn’t get along with one another (or within themselves, sometimes).

This was the first time our family has gathered like this – all young adults, all with their own quirks and peculiar interests, all together for the holiday.  I’m happy to say I got another passing grade on this one.  The house was filled with uproarious laughter and good-natured heckling every moment we were awake.  No druncles, no fights, no wound someone wouldn’t let heal.  It was perfect.

I’m not claiming all the credit for this harmony.  People have to want to get along.  I’m just glad that was their choice.  I loved it.  My wife was blessed by the peace and joy that bound the family together.

Personally, I think Dad’s final grade comes when his own child is the parent of a young adult (a grandfather for 20 years or so).  At that point, you have raised a child who has raised a child.  You find what your own son or daughter has received from you and passed on to their child.

I’m not there, yet.  I’m still a generation away from truly discovering the value of my parenting.  But I just got “mid-term” grade and I’m kind of excited about it.  I’d love to show my grade report to my mom.  She’d be so proud of me.  And, in turn, she’d see that she got an “A” on her own final exam.

Clark H Smith

Christmas Gifts – What and Why

When I was in college I was invited to house-sit the homes of several upper-middle class families.  Just days before one Christmas, I spent the night in a home of a family who’d flown to Colorado for a pre-Christmas ski trip.  The home left a great impression on me.

In the family room, a tree stretched from floor to 12 foot vaulted ceiling.  It was decked and trimmed from trunk to tip.  And yet, a good quarter of the tree could hardly be seen.  Gifts for the three girls of the home piled waist-deep, completely encircling the large conifer. 

My parents were not wealthy.  The older I get, the more I realize how impoverished we were financially.  I’d never seen such a gift-giving spectacle.  I was, in a word, impressed.

As the dad of four boys, I often faced Christmas as a daunting challenge.  How many gifts are sufficient?  How much should I spend?  How do I strategize a gift that packs the “WOW” punch and not get diluted with all the other gifts?  My wife and I found ourselves wandering the aisles of Batteries R Us, juggling gift equality based largely on how much we spent on each child.

Although gift-giving is a long-standing social custom in most cultures, the reason my family exchanges gifts… at Christmas... is because we’re honoring our belief that God gave Jesus to the world.  We are created in God’s image so gift-giving is in our DNA.  Jesus also received gifts at His birth.  Remember gold, frankincense, and myrrh?  And don’t forget that Joseph and Mary chipped in according to their means – swaddling clothes.

Those four gifts are the categories of gifts we give our children every year.  (Actually, these are simply the four gifts we give.  Each child has four gifts under the tree.  We have replaced abundance with thoughtfulness and meaning.)  Please take about five minutes and read more about The Jesus Gifts.  I hope it inspires more meaningful gifting.

Just today, I read an article by British man that almost set my blood boiling.  The first paragraph really ticked me off, but I read on and realized how wise his suggestions were.  One section heading makes a point that I urge every gift-giver to consider carefully: “We're disconnecting from why we give”.

The Jesus Gifts process draws my wife and I into a deep and thoughtful examination of each child’s life.  Every year, the Gold gift is a celebration of each child’s personality and bent in life.  We usually start our planning in the late summer.  We talk about each child, what they’re doing in life, what they’re interested in, and where we see them moving forward. 

Gold, especially, is born out of those conversations.  Frankincense, myrrh, and swaddling clothes also grow out of those considerations of each child’s life.  I hope for you that Christmas gifting is a process (not a purchase) that causes you to embrace each child’s life deeply.

It’s not to late to look at The Jesus Gifts and see if it doesn’t give you some inspiration.  I hope it does.  And by the way, Merry Christmas.

Clark H Smith

Say Who All We Love

An acquaintance of mind, David Patterson, once wrote some of the most precious and poignant words I’ve ever read:

“Home is where you first hear your name spoken in love.”

Think back to when your baby entered your home.  Think about the words you cooed to that precious child.  Think about the tenderness with which you spoke those words, including your baby’s name.  Love wrapped its arms around that name and carried it into your babe’s heart.  Home is where you first hear your name spoken in love.  What a perfect portrait of the home.

And your baby’s name is not the only name spoken in love.  “Mommy”  “Daddy”  “Bubba”  “Sissy”  All the names of the home wear the same cloak of affection. 

Tammy & Raylee...
thanks for the inspiration, ladies!

A dear friend of mine began a wonderful bedtime experience with her sons long ago and continues often now when her grand-niece visits.  When the busyness of the day is done and a night’s sleep is at hand, my friend cuddles up with her child and, together, they say “who all we love” - listing everyone by name and repeating several names. 

What a wonderful bedtime tradition… for the home to not only be the place where your name is spoken in love, but also the place where you express and emphasize the love you have for others.

I’m sharing this bedtime tradition in this blog because I think this is a perfect experience for fathers to participate in.  Yes, moms are the one who typically represent the beauty of love in the home.  All the more reason dads should find meaningful times and ways to help their children recognize that their dad is a loving person, too.  I certainly want my children to see me as a compassionate person with love for the people in my world.  Don’t you?

If you’re fortunate to still have children who crave a few moments with you before they sail off to Dreamland, consider cuddling up with them and getting lost in saying “who all we love.”  I have a feeling it will make their dreams all the sweeter.

Clark H Smith