Chuttumbee #1 Turns 10

I am again humbled at the speed of time.  Here we are at Paul’s 10th birthday.  Just “yesterday” he was just a rolly, polly little tike hyperventilating as he considered the thrill of trying to walk 3 feet. 

So much has changed. 

He is far more athletic than say at age 6.  Physically, he is still sinewy as last year; and mentally, he is an abstract thinking lad. More importantly, he is pretty much fearless.  He will try new things, stand up to an opponent in soccer or basketball games, get in front of his class to share his POV, and do so with a smile.  I have hundreds of game photos of him, in the throws of a soccer game, big Cheshire cat smile on his mug.  Even his coaches will raise this – “the one thing about Paul, he is always enjoying his time on the field.”  We should all hope for this outcome when we are immersed in combat, no?  Actually, it must be a bit unnerving to engage him. 

And his somewhat introverted ways shield him (so far) from worrying too much what others think.  I would have never realized introverts carry this advantage without seeing him in action.  He undertakes a course of action because, well, he wants to; other opinions don’t have much gravity.  (How do we preserve this way of thinking?)

Computers and him have some manner of intersection.  Two weeks ago my mobile phone rang.  This is Abe, I said.  “Dad, it’s me.  DId you know you can make shapes in Microsoft Word?  Like triangles and boxes?  It is amazing!”  If that rocked his world, you should have seen his reaction to “Track Changes” in Word.  “Wow!  That is amazing!  I have to use this!”  Really?  What, in your homework?  Are you pulling my leg or does this really wind you up?

Paul’s dramatic manner of viewing the world is articulated elsewhere also.  “Dad, it rained so hard today, it felt like the whole world was weeping!”  Today I say more prayers of thanks for such a treasure wafting its way into my life. 

Paul @ 10, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Counting on Dad

I recall Father's Day back in 2008 when Sidd’s classroom had an event for fathers to join.  I came 5 minutes late.  I was ambling down the hallway in the school and saw his face peaking around the edge of the doorway, hoping to see me.  Immediately, he came trotting out, whispered "come on Dad" in his soft spoken voice, grabbed my hand and led me into the room. 

I realized (once again) how much these small moments count and reinforce our relationships, how I had in truth trivialized it in my head, and how missing such an occasion is a much bigger deal than I had realized.

I had put much less weight into my attendance than he had.  On the way back to work, I said a small prayer of thanks that I had NOT missed this event for some pedestrian commitment at the office - I do that far too often.  Again, good dumb luck had prevailed over ignorance.  Make no mistake, I have certainly had precious moments occur without my attendance.  But I have come to realize the experiences we create with our family and friends are among our most sublime treasures.

Father’s Day, 2008 with Dad, © 2008, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)