Memories – Page 3 – Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership

Everyday is a Surprise

It all started with an earache…

“Bobby (what anyone who knew me before I was about 13 calls me), it all started with an earache. The doctor gave me some ear drops. The pain didn’t stop and seemed to get worse, so he gave me stronger drops. That still didn’t work. He ran some tests and told me it’s cancer, and I’m gonna die. It was an earache, and then I was dying. He says that I will probably just die in my sleep, so each time I wake up, it’s a surprise.”

In Pete’s case, it took about four months for the cancer specialists to identify the type of cancer that is killing him. He told me the name, and said it is very rare, untreatable, and fast moving. I made a mental note to look up the cancer and learn more about it. As I type this post, I have forgotten its name.

The fact that each of us will die is no surprise. The timing is the surprising part. That, and the name of the thing that ultimately causes our death. There’s always a name.

I remember a conversation I had with Grandpa Clyde (my wife’s grandfather) at least ten years ago. He was in his late-80’s at the time, showing me how to cook ribs properly on a barbeque. I asked him what it was like to have lived as long as he had. I will never forget his response. “If you live long enough, you say goodbye to a lot of friends and family. Most of the people I grew up with are dead and gone. I stopped going to funerals a long time ago. I spend my time making new friends, and enjoying this time I’ve been given with my family.”

Growing up, Pete was one of my role models for a life worth living. A firefighter, motorcycle tuner, racer, helmet painter, wheelie king, runner, water skier, speeding ticket magnet, traveler, and a Bluegrass fan. Although I never actually saw it, he used to say that he also jumped rope, attended three world fairs, and a few other things that are probably better left unmentioned. Pete never stopped making new friends, or appreciating his old friends. He grabbed all that life has to offer, and then some.

Pete wears a patch over his right eye now. The tumor has grown and prevents that eye from blinking. He is in a lot of pain, and the pain medications cloud the passage of time. This hasn’t stopped Pete from grabbing what life has left for him. He is living each remaining day as a surprise.

In truth, each day is a surprise for all of us. An opportunity to appreciate our family and friends. An opportunity to make new friends, and enjoy what little time we’ve been given.

Happy First Anniversary!

Hard to believe that one year ago today, Janet and I had 16 guests and a bride-to-be in our house…

Hard to believe that one year ago today, Janet and I had 16 guests and a bride-to-be in our house, getting ready for the Flather wedding that would start later that day. The night before, they worked out a system of 15-minute bathroom assignments that began at 6am, and ended with the entire bridal party, and support crew, heading out the door at 9:30am for photos…all on schedule.

As anyone who has planned a wedding knows, they are events filled with countless details, and memories that last a lifetime. One detail that I remember vividly is the Father-of-the-Bride toast. Writing the toast wasn’t difficult. Saying the toast was an entirely different matter. Each rehearsal ended with me crying about halfway through. I’d be doing great, and then it would hit me without warning.

Seeing my hopeless situation, Janet agreed to share in the toast duties with me. She would take the most “troubling” parts, and we determined that we’d just “wing it” from there. I don’t have a clear memory of the actual toast, but I know I couldn’t have done it without Janet’s love and support.

In honor of the Flathers’ one-year anniversary, and just in case we missed something during the actual toast, here’s the original text. By the way, I still can’t read it all the way through without welling up, and I wouldn’t have it any other way:

When Steven stopped by our house on that fateful night, about a year ago, I think we had a pretty good idea what he wanted to talk to us about. He wanted to ask our daughter to marry him. It wasn’t a surprise to us, but that moment is certainly burned into our memory. Obviously, Julianne said Yes! And, we couldn’t be happier for them. Steven is quite a catch, and he comes from a great family that we’ve gotten to know quite well over the years.

I’m pleased to see that Steven’s tuxedo doesn’t have any grease spots…yet…and I’m sure it’s killing him keeping it clean!

This is the NASCAR section of the toast when I thank all the people who made this celebration possible. Let me just start by thanking everyone who came here last night (and this morning) to help setup this hall. We had around 40 people here yesterday afternoon and evening, helping us convert an empty hall into this wedding picnic wonderland you see today. But, even before that, we had numerous work parties at our house, addressing invitations, preparing the candy, the candle holders, and all of the flowers. If you are a friend of mine on FaceBook, you’ve seen the pictures and updates. We’d also like to thank many of you in advance for volunteering to help us convert this wedding picnic wonderland back into an empty hall tonight!

Although we have a picnic theme going, we could just as easily call this a “barn-raising.” The same way a community comes together to help one family build their barn, we are blessed to have just about everything in this wedding come from our own community of friends and family. Thank you for all of your help. We will always cherish the time we’ve spent with each of you as we prepared for this wedding celebration.

Someone recently asked us how we’d feel on our daughter’s wedding day, giving her away, and all. We don’t look at it that way. Instead, we are adding a very fine son-in-law to our family. As parents, we all strive to see our kids grow into solid citizens. I can tell you from first-hand experience, Steven and Julianne are VERY SOLID CITIZENS. We are very proud of both of you!

So, Steven and Julianne, we raise our lemonade high, in your honor. May your love for each other grow as you greet each new day together!

Life’s Been Good to Me, So Far

Songs have an almost magical way of transporting us back to another time. One song in particular makes me think of my dad…

Songs have an almost magical way of transporting us back to another time. One song in particular makes me think of my dad…Joe Walsh’s, “Life’s Been Good to Me So Far.” Every time I hear it, I’m about eleven years old, very early in the morning, on the way to Escape Country. This song is playing on the radio. I know my mom and brother were there too, but when it comes to this song, my memory only conjures up my dad.

Escape Country is long gone. In the ‘70’s, Escape Country was a motorcycle riding park in Orange County, located about ten miles from Cook’s Corner. I’m pretty sure Dove Canyon is built mostly where Escape Country used to be.

“I have a mansion, forget the price

Ain’t never been there they tell me it’s nice”

My dad has a way of focusing on the task at hand, while having fun. In this case, his task was being the president of the Hilltoppers Motorcycle Club, and this was our annual Gran Prix race weekend at Escape Country. A series of 60-90 minute races with various motorcycle sizes and rider skill levels, ranging from mini-bikes to 500cc’s, and beginner to expert.

“My Maserati does 185

I lost my license now I don’t drive”

The president of the club has overall responsibility for the race, and works with everyone else in the club to create the best possible racing experience for the racers. On race days, one of my dad’s specific jobs was to line up each race at the start. I was amazed by the way my dad was able to keep everything straight. How did he know which bikes went where? It was always noisy, dusty, and confusing to me. And yet, he’d refer to a small piece of paper, look at the numbers on the bikes and immediately know where they were supposed to go. I remember he’d often carry a wooden stake to use as a pointer. He might as well have been an orchestra conductor in my eyes.

“I’m making records my fans they can’t wait

They write me letters tell me I’m great”

These were dead-engine, Le Mans-style starts. The bikes were on one side of the track, and the racers were lined-up on the other side. When my dad dropped the banner (which I helped raise and lower), the racers would run across the track, jump on their bikes, hope they started on the first kick, and, in a cloud of dust and rocks, they’d be racing down into the first turn.

“So I got me an office gold records on the wall

Just leave a message maybe I’ll call”

My dad took the time to watch about the first five minutes of each race, and then he was focused on preparing the start for the next race. This meant re-making the white lines to delineate the starting positions. I remember one of my jobs was to mark off the distance between the lines. I know now that he probably didn’t need my help, but at the time, I was a key part of the process.

“Lucky I’m sane after all I’ve been through

Everybody says I’m cool (He’s cool)”

Amazingly, my dad always seemed to wrap up the start-line preparations with fifteen to twenty minutes to spare before the next race was to start. This was enough time to jump on his bike and ride to various spots, checking-in with other members of the club to get a status from them. We didn’t have radios or cell phones back then, so communications happened the old fashioned way: face-to-face. He also had time to watch a bit more racing, and then back to the starting area to coordinate the newly arriving racers for the next race.

“I go to parties sometimes until four

It’s hard to leave when you can’t find the door”

My job during the down time? Riding over to the sign-up area on our Honda Trail 50 to get the piece of paper with numbers that he used as the basis for setting up the next race. Sometimes, while at sign-up, I’d get involved in helping the sign-up crew for a few minutes before returning to the starting area. Again, I was a key part of the process.

“They say I’m lazy but it takes all my time

Everybody says Oh yeah (Oh yeah)”

When the last race of the weekend ended, the work was far from over. Course markings, ribbons, barricades, banners, and everything else that we’d put up in preparation for the race had to be taken down. Most of the items would be reused in following years, so the put-away process was almost as important as the put-up process. I wanted nothing more than to help. I wanted to be like my dad. Doing anything other than working toward the goal of finishing the job never entered my mind. I was part of my dad’s team and that is all that mattered.

“It’s tough to handle this fortune and fame  

Everybody’s so different I haven’t changed”

Thank you, Dad, for always making me a key part of the process. Thank you for always trusting me to be at your side. Thank you for always knowing I could do the things you asked of me. Thank you for having confidence in me, even if I wasn’t so sure. Thank you for making me a valuable part of your team.

“I keep on going, guess I’ll never know why  

Life’s been good to me so far”

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.

Your Ten Best Days

What if you could choose the ten best days in your life and relive them as many times as you want? You only get to choose ten.

How would you go about choosing your ten best? Here are some possibilities to kick-start your thought process (in no particular order):

The day you learned to ride a bike
The day you lost your first tooth
The day you hit your first homerun
The day you got your driver’s license
The day you graduated from high school
The day you graduated from college
The day you received your first paycheck
The day you bought your first car (which might have been the day after you got your first paycheck)
Your wedding day
The day you finished your first marathon
The days your children were born
The day you became the boss
The day your trained someone else to be the boss
The days your children graduated from high school…how about college?
The days your children were married
Your first visit to the Grand Canyon
The day you went to the top of the Eiffel Tower
The day you and your family swam with dolphins
The day the doctor told you that you were cancer free
The day you watched your grandson being born (a definite front runner for me)
The days you visited your children’s first homes
That super hot day when you and your kids went to the Angel game and tried to keep cool with spray bottles
The day you zip-lined through a rainforest
The day you retired
The day you first had a Tommy’s Burger
The day you helped a complete stranger

The possibilities are infinite, and everyone’s list is different. Have you chosen your ten best days yet? What pictures flash in your mind as you try to decide?

Here’s some good news: you don’t have to choose just ten. And, you get to relive your best days any time you’d like. All you have to do is picture them in your mind, like you just did.

Here’s one more piece of good news: many of your best days are still in front of you, yet to be enjoyed.