fathering; being a father
i actually love being a father. i loved it from the beginning. i saw each of them as a miracle. they were all so different, but they were so deeply connected to me. to me ! i was mesmerized, and the mesmerization never ended. i still hold the spirit of their lives and the magnitude of our relationship. they are so cool. i never had to do much with them, but i had to do a lot with me. they were who they were, and i knew we were a special couple who were destined to know each other at levels unvoiced. they are amazing people.
it was my father who demonstrated a few jewels of how to live in this world, but, for the most part, it was my mother who detailed a route to happiness living with others, especially with your children. she could see the light of spirit in each person, so i knew i was getting top dollar information. she certainly saw the light in me. never graduated from elementary school, yet received her Ph.D. from nature’s school of higher education. she received so many degrees, taught in the community she resided, midwife to 100’s of newborn mothers, counselor to those early morning clothes hangar neighbors tenderly escorting the sun into their hanging wash, school superintendent while in line at the grocery store, bedside doctor to those who fell and hurt their knees as well as their confidence, consumer wizard who organized her fridays and saturdays around recent store coupons she could gift various relatives who were stumbling in life, and mother me. i realized later, with great clarity, that women teach boys how to be men; not men. men make an attempt, as long as they first check with their mothers, wives, grandmothers, aunts, and/or sisters or girl friends. that’s the truth. just observe. in fact, you already know. so, being a father wasn’t far away, and my mother knew the obvious and the refined methods for raising children while raising their father.
five of them. yep, five. i would have never guessed it, but i loved the idea of learning from each of them. the oldest, or first, was a son. an incredibly gifted person. he was somewhat shy, but never shy about learning or demonstrating his desire and appreciation for life through his art. yep, kane was an artist. there were no shortcomings for him to articulate his love for the visual, the hearing, the tasting, the feeling, and whatever else followed. no kidding. he loved art. he was consumed by art, especially music. he studied classical piano, while continuing his understanding of jazz, i.e., john coltrane jazz. he participated in many piano competitions. he won some, but it didn’t really mean that much to him. just to play music was all he really thought or cared about. he played music all the time. and when he wasn’t, sketching the world and it’s wonders held his attention. an amazing guy. he learned musical scales at the 3rd grade, so i went out an picked up a small flute for him to exercise his learnings. he tired of the flute, so next on the list was a clarinet. he played the clarinet through the 4th grade, but wanted something much more rigorous and profound. he finally received an alto saxophone at the 5th grade and a new world opened. most of his teachers discouraged him from playing that type of instrument so early, but he was stubborn and so was i. from that early taste of the saxophone, his entire life grew. more later….