Moments of Victory

They say that parenting is the hardest job in the world. Frankly, I think that working on power lines in sub zero temperatures or herding wild boar might be more arduous, but parenting sure has its moments. Or you could be like me and choose  teaching as a second career, and then your whole waking life will be composed of moments when you are explaining and instructing, and your clients are either daydreaming, writhing on the floor, or trying to squirm their way out the door! (I will leave it to your imagination as to whether these scenarios take place in my classroom or my living room.)

At any rate, life is a game of moments. There is ALWAYS beauty in the chaos. I tend to keep my eyes wide open to experience these moments, both in my classroom and my house. But the experts ARE right. Parenting is nearly impossible. To teach, love, cajole, empower, motivate, remediate, activate these three very different creatures on a daily basis is a privilege and a chore.

The Zac Brown Band says “Soak it all in. It’s a game you can’t win. Enjoy the ride!!” He’s right, but I’m the kind of girl who likes to have some W’s for the win column. The following recent moments stand out as victories for this haggard mama.

1.Parenting Win: Nature Category: The other day my 12.5 year old daughter got in the car, looked at the sunrise and declared “That is so beautiful!! Look at those colors!!” She quickly turned to me and said, “And I’m not even making fun of you, Mom!” Hilarious.

2. Parenting Win: Getting the Job Done Category: I got stuck at work recently for several unplanned after school meetings. Unfortunately, the girl who runs my house when I am working was also staying late for her writing club. We arrived home late, wondering if the house would be on fire and the boys playing Minecraft amidst the flames. Proud mama moment to see both boys had changed out of their uniforms, completed their homework, and eaten their after school snacks.

3. Parenting Win: No Means No (But Often No Leads to Better): Cue first warm day. Yeah, it was only about 49 degrees, but the boys were playing baseball in shirtsleeves and clamoring for Speedway slushies. No I said, over and over again. Finally satisfied that no really DID mean no (seriously, do these children not KNOW me?!?!), the elder boy decided that they should make smoothies. A few ounces of frozen berries and mango juice later, all parties were delighted.  And the kids had a much healthier treat!

4. Parenting Win: Grocery Store Edition: The FIRST miracle occurred when the eldest willingly went to the store with her mother to stock up for the week. And of course, the mother found a former student to talk to. Mid conversation, I turned to find that not only did my daughter empty ALL  of the groceries on the belt, but they were already loaded in bags in the cart. Love that helper!!

Obviously there are a myriad of moments, big and small, that constitute parenting wins. And equally obvious, there are moments when these same key players are dissolved in tears over a math problem or a runny nose. But win or lose, Zac Brown is right: “It's a near-perfect day. Wishin' I wouldn't get any older. They say that it's gone 'fore you know it…So soak it all in. It’s a game you can’t win. Enjoy the ride.”

Sorry, Wrong Number

“Hi. Is Chuck there?”

“Sorry, you have the wrong number.”

Again and again and again. The constancy of the wrong numbers astounds me.

I have had this phone number for six years, ever since I looked around my eighth grade one day and realized I was basically the only one who didn’t own a cell phone.

That started the cycle of wrong numbers that continues to this day.  At first it was random.

“Hi. Is Chuck there?”

“No. Sorry.”

Then came the messages. I’d check my machine and hear “Yeah, uh, Chuck? Where do you want the crew of guys today?”

I figured Chuck was a contractor.

The calls continued. Six years later, and I’m still getting calls. I don’t understand why they don’t have his new number.

I guess it wouldn’t be such a big deal if my dad’s name weren’t Chuck. Well, Charles D. Kraven to be exact, but he always went by Chuck. I can still picture him holding out his hand to shake when he met someone new: “Chuck Kraven, glad to know you.”

He’s been gone almost fourteen years, and it’s the little things I remember and miss the most. Believe me, I just had a run-in with his favorite chocolate coconut bars in the bakery the other day. Sometimes time does NOT heal all wounds.

Lately, the calls are coming more frequently, and during times of turmoil.  I was crying in my reading chair the other day, when the phone rang.

“Hi. Is Chuck there?”

And then last week at school I was waiting for an important call during my planning period.

“Hi is Chuck there?” I answered, and before the guy hung up, I finally decided to ask him who Chuck was.

“Is he some kind of a contractor?

“No, he works at the steel mill.”

Insert chills and spooky music. My dad spent the better part of my childhood working swing shifts at U.S. Steel.

And there are other Chuck messages.  Last summer I was on vacation at the pool with my kids, having a really bad time of things. I was in a lousy mood with some difficult circumstances and generally feeling bereft.  I spied a guy with several tattoos, and Phillipians 4:13 stood out. After a quick Google, I had it:  “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I approached the man to thank him for the message and tell him the verse helped one weary traveler.

“I did it for my son Chuck. He died of cystic fibrosis at age 19.” The tears rolled from my eyes. And his. We hugged, and cried some more. His name was Chuck too, of course. I promised to pray for his teenage daughter who was still battling the disease.

I don’t know that I ever understood what it would be like to live without my dad on this earth. I mean, how could I? I didn’t know that I would still be able to get wiffs of his cologne or hear his voice in my head. I didn’t realize that the lessons he taught would grow louder and clearer with time.

And I certainly don’t know why my phone keeps ringing for Chuck, or what kind of message he is trying to send me.  But I know for sure that love lives on.

Sometimes I wonder if I make too much of things, or if I find connections that are just coincidence.  I feel my dad in moments big and small, but is he really here? I almost wish I was kidding in sharing that as I was writing this today, I missed a phone call. No message was left, but curious, I hit redial to hear these words: “Thank you for calling United States Steel. “ More chills. More love. Okay dad, I get it.