Pop Lessons

I've been helping my Pop on a job all this week. It's nothing new, since I've been doing it with him off and on for the last 30 years or so. Everything I learned about being a carpenter, I learned it from John Randle. But as he gets older, he needs a helping hand every once in order to get things done on the job (don't tell him that I said it, I'll deny it if you do). This week’s project was to grind down the concrete flooring in several storage rooms in the basement of Chicago's DuSable Museum of African American History, for painters to come behind us and restore them with a new epoxy. Its a long, dirty, dusty process that I really love doing. Anyway, while we were setting up to prepare grinding the floor, he said to me, “Since I'm creeping up on 75, I don’t move around as fast as I used to.” His statement wasn’t really all that necessary, because I obviously could tell this used to happen a lot faster when he was younger. However, for a moment I stopped and thought about how my relationship with Pop has come full circle. Looking back on those times when I started with him when I was 16, and fast forwarding to now, I realize that the tables have somewhat turned (not a lot, but enough). As we attempted to move the machines from room to room, I thought to myself, “This would be so much easier if he would just let me do it myself.” Even though these machines are easily 300 pounds, and weighing more than that when you're tired. I was confident that alone I’d be able to complete the task a lot faster. That’s when I had an epiphany about a father’s relationship with his son. I thought back on my childhood and imagined what it must have been like to raise me as a son. The lessons I never noticed back then, but were glaringly obvious as they came to the forefront this week…

1) My Pop, although stronger than me, always gave me a load to carry - If each time something had to be done, Pop just said, “Move out the way and let me do it.” I may have never developed the strength I have now. I have friends who you can tell have never done a hard day’s work. If you asked them to do something like paint a wall, hang a light fixture, or change the oil of their car, they’d be lost. My father was teaching me that even when you’re stronger than someone, you never carry their load. Every man must carry his own weight.

2) My Pop, although faster than me, always had patience to wait for me - One of the most frustrating parts of small children is their short legs. If you’ve ever taken a small child for a walk for any distance you almost immediately notice that it takes four or five times longer than if it was just you. I imagine that as a child growing up my Pop knew that he could get from point A to point B a lot faster without me, or by telling me to run while he walked. My Pop never did that though. He was patient and he waited for me. I would have never known that it was taking him longer than usual.

3) My Pop, although busy, always made time for me - I feel as children when we grow up and our lives get busy, we tend to let our relationships with our parents slip. Growing up you spent pretty much 100% of your time outside of school with your family. When evaluating plans for the weekend as an adult, you tend to pick time with the guys or hanging out with the ladies over your Dad. Pop never did that to me as a child. He always made time for me. When I needed to learn how to ride a bike or throw a baseball, he made time. He didn’t complain or think about all the things he could be doing, he just made the time. What this past week meant to me was a reminder that I can’t ever be too busy to make time for my Pop. 

4) My Pop, always remind me, “Everybody ain’t your father” but he always showed me the true meaning of friendship - As a child, it was important to note that my Mom and Pop were NOT my friends. Growing up in an African American household you learn early on, “Stop talking to me like I’m one of your friends.” Yeah, growing up I had that common Chicago problem of calling everybody, “dude.” That wouldn’t fly with Pop. However, over the years I’ve realized that Pop asks me for advice every once in a while on the job, and he listens to my advice as well. Most of all, we’re friends and friends help each other out in their times of need. 

5) My Pop, as he grows in age, reminds me that "always" isn’t always going to be "always" - As a young son, you sometimes view your father as this strong, all-knowing individual who is impenetrable. I know growing up, I would see the biggest arms I ever thought existed whenever i saw my Pop. As an adult now, I realize that my father is indeed mortal. It’s a weird feeling to notice that your father needs help, and that everything won’t be fine if I leave everything up to him. My Pop taught me lessons as a child about how everything didn’t come easy to him, but at the time I never would believe it. I am learning now that we are all mortal, and that we all have pain, and we all need help from time to time. I learned that all those times he said, “Call your mother” or “Did you talk to your brothers or sisters” he was teaching me that since we are mortal, you need to appreciate the time you have with your family the most.

Of course my Pop and I came to a healthy compromise on the best way to handle the flooring. He wanted to help, and he did help without a second thought. He wanted to remind me of that first lesson he taught me about carrying your own weight. Maybe it took us a bit more time to complete the task but it also gave us plenty of time to talk about life. I wanted to make sure that I reflected on this week spent with my Pop. I wanted to make sure that I wrote this post this week because I’m sure I’m not the only one who shares experiences like these. I wouldn’t regulate the experience to only men. I’m sure that women share similar experiences with their mothers. Moreover, I wanted to remember these moments because one day my son Jonathan (named in part to honor Pop) will prayerfully have these same moments with me. I want to make sure that I give him everything my Pop gave me, so whenever that time comes, I know that it will all start with sharing, being patient, and making time for my son. Thanks Pop, and Happy Father' s Day...

facebook.com/relationshiplessons
twitter.com/DelvinRestored