our lives are filled with the present stresses of our time, and rarely do we ever have the chance to reflect, share and reveal the things that have impacted our lives. perhaps these are the things that are to be revealed around the dinner table to our children; God knows the lives of my own family have been repressed through the decades. we never chit chat about what dad did when he was at georgetown university, or what mom went through in nursing school.
we seem to detatch ourselves from our past and eventually, we forget what we did and how that impacted our future. there was one moment i remember, many years ago before i entered my first year at biola, my dad and i had dinner at perkins in richfield minnesota. it was winter and the snow fell on the other side of the glass, just a few inches from our booth table. i can't remember if it was of my prompting or if it was simply my father trying to connect with his first born son, but, what i do remember was him tell me a story of a time when one of his buddies got so drunk mid winter, he passed out on the edge of the street in the snow and they had to lift him into the car and take him home, all along knowing they were going to get in trouble.
these are the stories we are not supposed to tell our children, yet, i want this to be exactly what my children know of me. i want them to know who their father is, i want them to know i know who i am and why i am.
we continue to forget ourselves everyday, we continue to forget what we've done everyday and eventually, we become a product of what we are trying to become. it's so sad, but that's what we end up doing isn't it?
9 comments:
I want to hear the story about the brawl in Croatia!!! (Unrelated to the night in jail!?)
yes, different than the night in jail.
From Billy's Father: I remember that night at Perkins vividly. It was a good time. The rest of the story is that we rolled down all the windows in the car to try to sober up Mike in the back seat. He was in shirtsleeves (wonder what happened to his coat?). There are mores stories, Bill, which we will get to this summer in CA, right? To paraphrase Shakespeare, "The stories are the thing."
Oh, I forgot to mention that I read Jack Kerouak's "On the Road" back when I was in Benilde High School shortly after it was first published. I tried to get to "The Dharma Bums," but went on to read other things instead. I still see both books at the bookstore.
Thanks for the comments dad. can't wait to hear more stories.
"i want them to know who their father is, i want them to know i know who i am and why i am.
... we become a product of what we are trying to become. it's so sad, but that's what we end up doing isn't it?"
Is it just the past that shapes "who I am and why I am"? Or is it also the goal of who we want to become that shapes who we are today? I think too often we make excuses for who we are today based on our past experiences and refuse to change as a result of where our past lead us. Shouldn't we shape our lives continually to become more righteous (sanctification) instead of just being who we are and staying that way? Or maybe I'm taking your point in a direction that was not intended.
Hokay! Seems this blog is getting quite philosophical! To take Bob's comments further: Our past does shape our present. Our past is the soil from which we have grown. Do we need to go back to dig in the dirt to understand who we are today? Surely we do. It may not be pretty (that's why it is called "dirt"), but it could be the starting point of healing and renewal. I have to say that my hands have gotten kinda soiled and grimy the past few years--and I'm lovin' it!
Um...I was just saying I like stories. My past experiences make great stories. We spend too much time focusing on what/who we want to become (career wise/financially etc.) we miss and forget the experiences that could turn into something creative. Eventually we don't talk about our experiences, we just talk about "what are you up to these days?". That's all.
Hey Billy, great post. Don't forget the time you drove your motorcycle through the window at the Manner. I think you're right though. I can't speak for you, but I think I'm hesitant to bring up some stuff from the past, because I want to think that I'm better than that now. But really, if we have indeed learned our lessons, why should we feel threatened by the stupid things we've done? Plus, as you stated, our stupid stories are the best ones.
Post a Comment