Make Memories
While out walking, there is nothing I like to see more than fathers with their children.
I remember once seeing a man acting like a goofy ass with his child and then spontaneously lifting his child onto his shoulders and galloping off down the street with his child laughing in that hiccupping laugh that children get when they are beyond happy.
It brought a smile to my own face.
I love a man who loves his kids.
It says a lot about a mans' character.
The Mister, when his children were small used to do all kinds of things with his two sons. Catch, bike riding, blading, movies, monster truck rallies, baseball games, and on and on.
I used to love watching him with them.
I often thought:
“He’s making memories”
One thing that was a ritual with them was kite flying.
See, The Mister grew up in Guyana, and apparently in Guyana kite flying was a big deal in the springtime.
This was no “half-assed go to the toy store and buy a kite and fly it” endevour.
This was a “get some balsa wood, string, specialized paper, paint and a bunch of other stuff and make a kite” endevour.
Every March the kite creating would begin, always with a different theme every year.
Complete with elaborate tail and special cuts to make noise as the wind blows through it.
Then, during Easter long weekend, they would go out and take turns flying it down by the lake.
For some whose fathers were absent or didn’t have the time, inclination, or just didn’t make the effort to make memories with their children, making them with their own is of tantamount importance.
They get to have those memories.
They grab them and hold them through their own children.
So if your Dad made memories for you, I hope you look back on those times with fondness, because children who don’t know any different often don’t realize how lucky they are to have a father to make memories for them.
If you’re a father who makes memories, I raise a glass to you.
Because you help to make better people of us all, those of us who watch and those who have the privilege of the effort made by a man who loves his kids.
Saturday, December 13, 2003
Posted by Radmila at 12:25 a.m.
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