The Long Days of Time

We sat at an outdoor plaza, its fountains dancing in the late day sun as laughing children streamed about tossing pennies and nickels into the water as father's stopped to pose for photos with their children. I mentioned to Sophia as we enjoyed our dish's at her favorite Italian restaurant that today was the summer solstice--the longest day of the year. And as I told her this I thought to myself what a wonderful metaphor for this-- my father's day with her that it should fall on a day that is longer than any other, since what we all seek is more time. More time to live, experience, laugh, and enjoy.

I had 44 Father's Days' with my dad and I wondered as she spoke so animatedly and passionately about everything a ten year-old girl discusses with her dad, whether I too would get at least 34 more "Days" like this. We all want to live long and healthy lives, filled with rich experiences and satisfying days. Yet 34 more years seems so "soon", though in reality my daughter would be almost 50 in 34 years.

And so it was as we enjoyed each other's company gabbing about everything and nothing, my little girl not looking so "little" anymore as toddlers caught my eye tying to touch the splashing water of the fountains. Still, as the sky painted the evening in pastel colors over her shoulder, I was able to drink in all that this one day really means. We so often stumble through the days, weeks, months and years until one day we wake up and our parents begin to look like our grandparents, we begin look like our parents, and our children all of a sudden look like us. Fitting indeed that I had the extra daylight, the extra hour, and extra time to appreciate my beautiful daughter and stop to appreciate that which I try not to take for granted.

Being a father is one thing you never really think too much about until you are one. Though once you are, you struggle to recall a time when you thought of anything else really. It's one of life's riddles in a way. So there we sat, enjoying an Italian gelato and still gabbing, only now we were discussing our upcoming vacation. It felt good just being in the moment especially since by virtue of the calender it was an extra few moments on an extra glorious summer day.

Time Surfing

I'm often struck by the many contrasts of my own childhood and that of my daughter, especially since I was raised in the northeast as one of five children as opposed to being an only child growing up in the year-round warmth of Florida.


Case in point, my daughter attended surfing school all last week. When school would end for PinF after 5th grade back in 1974 the BIG focus would the local swim club, something my brothers and I loved mind you, though it certainly wasn't 'surf school". My brother's and I would of course also have two weeks of coastal bliss to look forward to usually down at the beach at Sea Isle City, N.J., with all the wonder and excitement of playing on the beach and the boardwalk while literally lost in the time warp of youth. So it was, all last week I had a week of surf lingo: "shredding, gnarly, and surfing the line".....etc. I couldn't help but to think to myself how I would've died for such an experience at age 10.

While pondering my own childhood I realized that it was really all bout "time". How we spend it, how we waste it, and ultimately how we all pay little attention to it, especially as children, because what real significance does time have other than "bedtime" or "dinnertime"? Something I find myself saying more and more as my child becomes a part of consumer America is "....when I was a kid....", trying to make her realize how lucky she is to spend a week on the beach with nothing more to do than learn to surf, not to mention her affinity for computers, cell phones and MP3 players. I'm often transported back to the long hot summer's of my youth playing stepball in front of the house with the neighborhood kids all assembling with my mother acting as referee/nurse/commisioner of the many leagues and disputes that would arrise from such concentrations of kids on her doorstep.

"When I was a kid" comments have about as much effect on my daughter as they had on me by my father, still the temptation to try to make a kid appreciate, realize, and be grateful for their daily lives is great and often irresistable. Making a child of today understand the fact that there were no computers, MP3's, and cell phones, not to mention 150 TV channels and endless amusement parks back "in the day" is like trying to convince Dick Cheney that waterboarding was torture.

Still time ebbs ever forward and we soon fall back into the routine of living in the moment, not the past. I'm grateful that my daughter can do things and go places I may not have as a child, because afterall this is what is supposed to happen. The challenge is trying to compete with the many external distractions of youth that exist today. Aside from television, there wasn't as much of a social disconnect from my parent's generation to my mine. Sure, social mores and attitudes changed, but the world in general wasn't turned upside down with regard to what kids were doing, expected, and wanted. The life of ten-year old me, was the desire to play in a pool, play little league baseball, and go to the beach. Life was simple.

So it was that as exotic as "surfing' camp sounded, Sophia found her "simplicity" of being. Arriving each morning at 8:30 to the glistening ocean front park where a day's worth of water excitement waited, either surfing, tubing, jet skiing, or just plain old beach games. No cell phones, MP3's, or computers for a whole week? The result? A very happy, tanned, and satisfied little girl who got off the techno roller coaster and got on the slow "wave" of fun.

The changes taking place at age ten are so stark and contrasting to the little girl who has up until recently needed/wanted her papi is both a bit sad and exciting all at once. I see in her a

confidence that comes from both maturing as well as wanting to be seen as fitting in, and not tethered to her "daddy". Oh sure, she's still papi's girl when we have time together, but I see through my own past what she is thinking and feeling as she attempts to spread her wings and fly a little further each time. Stretching the boundaries is now the norm, either in asking if she can do another sleepover, or meeting her friends in the mall. These are all natural developments I know, still they are stark reminders that we are all growing apart physically in life, depsite the increasing emotional investments.

I've often commented that the key to being a good parent is quite simple. Remember what it is to be the kid. That's all there is to it. Empathy, coupled with memory and a touch of some thicker skin as the child grows into the adolescent is all it takes to be a fair, fun, and good parent. Of course you have to temper this with strong disciplinary judgement since the child is constantly testing the rules/boundaries/and expectations. My belief is that most of us know how to be authority figures, the key is in learning to be trusting parents, despite knowing what we all know by the time the child is them self a reflection of paths we've already walked.

To this endeavor I am still learning, evolving, and trying to be. For her part, the child is still lost in time enjoying her summer.

As it should be.