Memorial Day and Who I Remember

I remember my dad today. He came over from England when he was young with my grandmother. He joined the Navy after high school, training to be a submariner. Up until a number of years ago, I would see me dad this time of year every year. I’d go up to Vermont and see him, bring him flowers, and say hi to him. The visit wouldn’t last very long though, and I would have to leave the cemetery where he is buried, since I was 3 years old. But I don’t just remember him on this day, Memorial Day, a day for all those in the service. I remember him everyday.

For Paul Richard Simon

United States Navy

Sailor, Father

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Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot!

Rock beats scissors.

Paper beats rock.

Scissors beats paper.

 

i find myself fondly recalling all the times Rock, Paper, Scissors helped to quell arguments and disputes during, not only my childhood, but also my adult life.  The path towards acceptance and reconciliation for youths start with this game.  It’s so perfect in its simplistic way.  Three things – one beats another which beats another which beats another.  It’s so good.

Here is where I’m going with this.  While overhearing two of my children trying to settle a dispute, I heard them begin the familiar chant: “Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot”.  They repeated it several times until there was a decisive winner, one where acceptance was instilled, which I must say is incredibly hard to accomplish considering they are 5 and 6-year-old boys.  Playing with toys, or more accurately, who gets to play with which toys, is settled with these three words.

If it wasn’t for this simple hand-gestured game, they would have surely have settled things with a fight, in typical young boy fashion.  Yet, rock, paper, scissors helped to not bring that pass.  This game is a true mediation tool.  If only war was as easily resolved.  Until then, at least the war between siblings can be.

A bicycle built for one

I am a proud parent this evening because my eldest son has learned how to ride a bike. He’s been wanting to learn for a while now, and since he’s had a bike for a couple of years now, now was as good a time as any. Just to make it clear I, nor his mother actually witnessed him performing this on his own – his uncle video messaged it to us – but it doesn’t really matter because being proud comes at any time, and from anywhere. Such an accomplishment! And at 10 years of age, he learned a year before I had at his age. The timing may seem like a bit off because the two of us learned when we were older, but does that really matter? Not really. The result was the same regardless of when we learned.

The best thing about this, other than the actually ability to ride a bicycle, is that now the sayings “just like riding a”, and “you never forget how to ride a” can now mean something to him contextually. How sweet is that?! Very. Ride on my son, ride on.

… all that interested

I was never really all that interested in maintaining a blog before. The urge to do so just wasn’t in me, or at least so I thought, until a few weeks ago when I began to really consider it. Basically I viewed it as a bit odd knowing that what I conceive in my head will be put out on the web for all to read. I’ve never really been all that comfortable expressing myself in this way, but now I’m not too nervous of leaving myself open for others to observe.

I tell myself that it doesn’t matter what others think but that’s just not true. I do care and I need to know that I can allow to have this open feeling. I shall cringe every time I’m about to hit the submit button. But I will also feel relief, having let a piece of me go out with the chance that it may flourish. I will feel happy, and also a bit curious, when someone wants more of what I have to offer.

I may not have been all that interested before, but now I am. The question remains if others will be interested in me.