Mike Parker: What do you want for Christmas, Dad?
Sometime around Thanksgiving, children begin firing the question that never seems to end until Christmas Day.
“What do you want for Christmas, Dad?”
My answer, like most dads, is simple:
“I don’t really want anything.”
Of course, that answer is never acceptable and results only in more badgering.
“There’s got to be something you WANT, Dad. What is it?”
Sometimes I feel like saying, “I want a new Bentley.” But I don’t really want a new Bentley – or even a previously owned Bentley. When it comes to the materials things in life, I am satisfied with what I have – a fact that seems to drive young people nutty. I don’t need any more stuff to store. I can’t imagine how long it will take my kids to clean out our house when Sandra and I pass on to the other side.
None of the things I would really like for Christmas are tangible. What few wishes I have are beyond the ability of my wife and children to grant me.
For instance, I would really like to have a good night’s sleep. Now, you have probably got to be pushing 50 – or in my case 75 – to appreciate this wish. A good night’s sleep consists of two key ingredients: 1) comfort during the sleeping process, and 2) no aches and pains after the night is over and the alarm clock sounds.
Once Sandra and I had children, the nights of deep, soul-leaving-the-body sleep were over. When that first child is born, the Lord equips us with some sort of parental radar. A parent can ignore all normal sounds, no matter how loudly they spring on the ear. But when Sara, Rachel, Lydia or Michael took a funny breath – BAM! – being wide awake assaults us. Later, we had the same reaction when one of our grandkids breathed a quirky breath or whined at night.
I’ll tell you another thing I’d like to have at Christmas – and at other times, too. I love playing games with my wife and children – not the family politics games, but games such as Boggle or Rummy or Uno. What I most want from my kids is their time and attention.
I know they are busy. My children have grown up, moved away from home, have lives of their own that no longer revolve around their mother and me. They all followed my dictum: “College Degree – J O B – then get your crap outta my house.”
But I miss them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am proud of them, proud of the lives they are making. The end of good parenting (and I hope Sandra and I were good parents) is producing independent children who can go forth and do likewise.
But the house that once bustled with activity, that once rang with singing and thundered with sibling disputation is a quieter, gentler place now. Once I saw all my children every day. Now I rarely see them all together.
Sometimes I long for the days we sat around the kitchen table and played Uno, dropping Draw Fours on each other. Or playing Boggle and having to explain why we weren’t going to accept “blit” as a word.
But if I am greedy about anything, I want more of them – more of their voices, more of their laughter, more of their bad and tacky jokes usually aimed at my bald head and my habit of telling the same story over and again.
In the end, what makes Christmas for me is them.
Some of you understand exactly what I mean.
For those of you with young children who cling to your skirts, wipe their noses on your shirt or tie, and seem to want more attention than you can possibly provide: Enjoy these days while you can.
Treasure the time you have together. Time is the most precious gift you will ever give or receive.
Mike Parker is a columnist for the Neuse News. You can reach him at mparker16@gmail.com.
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