Time cannot heal all wounds.
When my children Aron, my daughter and my son Eric, were growing up I tried to do as much as I could for them and with them because I really loved to be with them and also because I missed many things growing up due to my parents always having to work just to support us and put food on the table.
I took them both camping and fishing as often as I could and almost always when I went. We would fish and sit around the fire and we would shoot guns and just have fun acting like a bunch of knuckleheads.
To make sure they would have fun I would try to bring their cousins with us as much as possible so they would have other kids too play with as well.
After my daughter got older and became a young lady she thought getting dirty and touching worms and such was undignified and eventually stopped going with us. It was a little disappointing but I understood and realized she was just growing up.
My son Eric on the other hand was a boy and getting dirty and touching worms and occasionally eating one was all part of growing up. I was assured of having my buddy with me for a long time.
In 1996 I purchased a Harley Sporster and didn’t realize at the time how a Harley could change your life. Shortly after I got mine my friends also got one and then it was non-stop riding. Many times in the summer after work we would jump on our Harleys and go riding. Just about every weekend we would take off on one Harley run or another and sometimes be gone for 3 or 4 days at a time.
It was great fun – for me.
In the process of satisfying some inner desire or need for excitement or just selfish self indulgence, I forgot about my buddy.
Eric was a good guy, a great guy in fact and he patiently waited day after day and week after week and then month after month for his buddy to take him camping and fishing again, without saying a word. Eventually years would go by while he waited patiently for his dad to do stuff with him, always accepting the standard answer – “I can’t do it this weekend cuz I gotta go riding”.
I didn’t see him change, although it happened right in front of my eyes. When I stopped paling around with my son it broke his heart, he lost his best friend.
He was forced to find other friends to do stuff with and he did. He started drinking a lot and staying out late and skipping school and eventually started getting in trouble.
Eric was fourteen in 1996 and needed me to hang on tighter than ever. It was then - that I let him go.
I took them both camping and fishing as often as I could and almost always when I went. We would fish and sit around the fire and we would shoot guns and just have fun acting like a bunch of knuckleheads.
To make sure they would have fun I would try to bring their cousins with us as much as possible so they would have other kids too play with as well.
After my daughter got older and became a young lady she thought getting dirty and touching worms and such was undignified and eventually stopped going with us. It was a little disappointing but I understood and realized she was just growing up.
My son Eric on the other hand was a boy and getting dirty and touching worms and occasionally eating one was all part of growing up. I was assured of having my buddy with me for a long time.
In 1996 I purchased a Harley Sporster and didn’t realize at the time how a Harley could change your life. Shortly after I got mine my friends also got one and then it was non-stop riding. Many times in the summer after work we would jump on our Harleys and go riding. Just about every weekend we would take off on one Harley run or another and sometimes be gone for 3 or 4 days at a time.
It was great fun – for me.
In the process of satisfying some inner desire or need for excitement or just selfish self indulgence, I forgot about my buddy.
Eric was a good guy, a great guy in fact and he patiently waited day after day and week after week and then month after month for his buddy to take him camping and fishing again, without saying a word. Eventually years would go by while he waited patiently for his dad to do stuff with him, always accepting the standard answer – “I can’t do it this weekend cuz I gotta go riding”.
I didn’t see him change, although it happened right in front of my eyes. When I stopped paling around with my son it broke his heart, he lost his best friend.
He was forced to find other friends to do stuff with and he did. He started drinking a lot and staying out late and skipping school and eventually started getting in trouble.
Eric was fourteen in 1996 and needed me to hang on tighter than ever. It was then - that I let him go.
posted by half_cent | 7:15 AM
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