I use to think the old Doris Day song was cute. My mom liked it and would sing it sometimes. The song is about a girl asking her mom if she was going to be rich or if she would get married or so I remember and the Mom's response is que sera, sera what ever will be will be the futures not ours to see que sera, sera. As a parent of three children I guess it is true that I don't really know anything about my children's future. But I assume my two younger ones will grow up marry and move out. Not so with my oldest. With his Cerebral Palsy I don't know anything about his future. He's smart, and some would say mild as CP goes, but just doesn't have all the tools I would wish he had. Is there a lady out there who will love him and help take care of him? I have no idea. I know I can't see the future, but it sure hurts to think that my child may live with us the rest of our lives, not to mention what happens after us. The pain is not that I will never be an empty nester. The pain is that my child may never know how knock kneed I was on was on my wedding day or the joy and fear I had when he was born. Life as we expect it to be may not be the same for him. When I cry over this, it is as a father wanting everything for his Children, and knowing that it just might not be. Is the song true? It is. Do I like that fact? Not one bit!
My son participated in an academic speech competition a couple of weeks ago. As we waited for his turn, we had the opportunity to listen to the colleagues that preceded his presentation. The topics were varied and ranged in substance from the history of pants to the so-called "right to die with dignity."
The young girl who spoke on the latter matter actually suggested that the "right to die" law in Oregon had actually improved the quality of life for all Oregonians. She offered no proof of this, but nevertheless appeared fairly convinced she was correct. This young student took great pains to stipulate that the law wasn't for "healthy people" but rather, only the terminally ill and those who were physically and mentally handicapped.
As we sat in the back of the room, my son in his wheelchair, we were dumbfounded at the amount of times she tried to convince the crowd that the freedom to commit suicide had somehow bettered life in Oregon.
In our family, summer wouldn’t be complete without the exciting and unpredictable adventure of a road trip. This year, our plans are both practical and enjoyable. It’s time for our son to begin the great college search -- and so as we make our way to and from Washington D.C., we plan to visit a few school campuses. Thankfully, it doesn’t cost anything to look and dream.
Cruising the highways and byways in our truck while towing a trailer, the West family is an interesting sight to see. Some nights, we camp in Wal-Mart parking lots [incidentally, so does Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, who reportedly loves to drive his RV across the country during the summer months]. Don’t be surprised if many of the future articles in this space will cover some of the wildly entertaining and challenging events of the trip.
One of the cool things about visiting Washington D.C. revolves around the opportunity to visit the U.S. Capitol. What a mighty architectural marvel! In order to enjoy the bonus of a special tour, we contacted our representative several months in advance. In short order we received an appointment time along with very specific instructions. We’ll be there!
But this got me thinking. It’s not too often that I’m afforded the honor to speak to my elected official. Surely, this will be a quick hello and a brief “thanks for your support” kind of meeting. But what would I say if I really had his ear, or what if I were invited to speak my mind in front of Congress or more likely, before a committee hearing? What would I say?
I’ve thought about it.
I’d begin my addressing the need to prioritize our problems and challenges. In the Preamble of the U.S. Constitution, it states that the nation is committed to promoting “the general welfare” of the Union. But what is our “general welfare” anyway? The American Heritage Dictionary’s definition is as follows: “Health, happiness, or prosperity; well-being.” Posted on the website http://www.usconstitution.net is a note that reads:
“Welfare in today's context also means organized efforts on the part of public or private organizations to benefit the poor, or simply public assistance. This is not the meaning of the word as used in the Constitution.”
Perhaps it’s because my oldest just got home from his second year at college. Perhaps it’s because last week my middle son turned seventeen. That I can hardly believe. Or maybe it’s because this week is Mother’s Day. Whatever the reason, I’m feeling quite nostalgic.
The other day I was remembering when the kids were young. Back then, they thought I was smart. (Those days are gone.) My children used to look at me as more than an ATM. They thought I was funny. Ok, so my jokes are only funny to young children, but I once made milk come out of my son’s nose. They didn’t used to say I was old back then, and I also wasn’t carrying the weight of an extra person around my waistline. I saw a picture of myself at a resent family event and wondered why no one was trying to free me from my holding tank.
Whatever the reason, old memories of times now long gone started coming to mind. Like when our oldest couldn’t walk very far, so I would carry him on my shoulders. I even fell once and broke my ankle, because as we fell I pulled him on top of me so he wouldn’t get hurt. One time I got too far ahead of the rest of the family and some friends when we were riding our ATV’s. When my oldest and I realized everyone else had stopped we turned back. When we found the others, the look on my younger son’s face was priceless. He had launched his ATV off the road and wedged it between a boulder and a tree. He was so shaken that we put him on the back of someone else’s ATV and let one of our friends drive his. And lest you think all my memories are of accidents, there was the time I took my daughter to the father-daughter dance at our local YMCA. She was so excited; she smiled the whole night.