Digital Cowboy

I foolishly taught my girls the stupid, redneck saying, “See ya! Wouldn’t wanna be ya!”

A few days ago, on a beautiful day, they were running out the door to play and Emily said, as she was closing the door, “See ya!” The door slammed and then opened again. She stuck (just) her head back in and said, “Wouldn’t wanna be ya!” Door slammed again. Opened again and she stuck just her head in again and, with a very different tone, said, “I really wouldn’t wanna be you, Daddy. Know why?”

“Why, Honey?” (I said in a patronizing tone. I was busy. I just wanted them to go play.)

“‘Cause you work too much. (pause) I’m going to play now. You should play more, Daddy. I hope I don’t have to work as much as you when I grow up.”

And then the door slammed again. And she was gone?

I wept when the door slammed and I can’t write this post without weeping.

“And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon….”

That child is precocious. Memories flooded back. I have vivid memories of often laying in my bed at night when I was supposed to have been asleep hours before. Watching my Dad in the kitchen when the Johnny Carson monologue was over. (My bedroom door was always open and my doorway faced the hall.) He was getting ready to go to bed and had to be up early. He worked as hard as any man I’ve ever known.

Even then, as a very small child, I saw how hard he worked for us. At least once I prayed, “God, please don’t make me grow up. I can’t do that.”

Then he died young. That’s another story.

As I got older, I swore I would never do it. I was going to be rich! I didn’t care what it took or how much it cost or what I had to do. But I eventually realized that the people that get rich the world’s way neglect their families worse than those who, like my Dad, just work so hard to provide that they don’t have time.

Now I’ve found a third way. The right way.

“The Blessing of the Lord makes me rich and He adds no sorrow with it.” - Prov. 10:22
“Seek ye first the Kingdom and His righteousness…” Matt. 6:33

I am working hard but it’s a short-term commitment. I’ve found a better way. My daughters will never have to work. They’ll always have a good reason to. So they will only work in freedom, when, where, how and at what they choose.

If you wonder where this came from…. I turned 37 yesterday. My Dad was dead at 37 (anniversary… a couple days, too close to my birthday). I’m not the slightest superstitious. If he knew then what I know now, he would still be here and I have no fear at all. It’s not about that.

But a kid that lost his Dad at 12 can’t possibly avoid remembering the greatest man he ever knew on this birthday, especially when the anniversary of his going home is coming up soon, too.

I can’t wait to see him again.

“… When ya coming home son?”

“I don’t know when, Dad. We’ll get together then.

“Ya know we’ll have a good time then.”

And I’ve got two beautiful little ladies that are looking forward to meeting their grandfather, too.