Lessons from Dad
June 20th, 2010
I got to spend a lot of time with my father growing up on a farm and during the 20 years we were partners in business. I learned a lot from my dad over the years. I learned from the things he said and from observing his life. The observation taught me both how to live my life and how I wanted my life to be different from his. The advice, which he freely gave, included some good advice and some that I chose to not follow. I have no regrets from how I handled either.
Mostly, my dad’s way of teaching was to tell me and my siblings what he wanted done and left us to figure out how to do it. Many of the things we were told to do on the farm were things that were new to my dad as well. When we started in business together, he was as inexperienced as I was. He taught me to read blueprints and gave me the task of being the construction estimator. He gave me the title of manager and left it up to me to learn to manage. It was frustrating and I hated it sometimes, but I learned far more than if I had been given a complete manual on each task. I would have hated that a lot more. After a while, I didn’t need to be pointed in a direction to get things done. I suggested we move the business in a direction and if we agreed, I did what was needed to make it work.
While I was doing the tasks that I became good at, my dad was doing the things he enjoyed. He worked hard and expected everyone else to also. He set high expectations and he wasn’t shy about expressing his disapproval of less than desired results. I learned to be tactful and considerate from seeing and feeling how that behavior was ineffective.
With his family, my father could be the most loving and supportive parent sometimes and at other times, be cruel, mean and belligerent. I could never understand how he could be totally different people at different times. I just knew that wasn’t how I wanted to be. I still wonder how he felt about his life. I loved my dad. I accepted him as he was. I became very introspective because I wanted to understand myself and the choices I made in contrast to how he lived. I became more accepting of other people’s life choices and less judgmental because of the need to accept his.
I know that my life as a father has been and will continue to be a learning experience for my children. They will see and think about how I have lived my life as well as the things I have said. Many of the choices I make are made for how they will appear to my family. I am very proud of the adults my children have become. I admire their differences from each other and from me. I also see the things they do and the way they act that is because of my life and words. They are teaching me lessons now as they have all their lives. If things work out as they should, we learn more from our children after they grow up than we taught them. We get to see how life is supposed to be lived. That’s what I think.
Published in the Harper County Herald in my column I Wonder, and republished here with permission.
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Sports and Me
April 30th, 2010
Horse races are my favorite spectator sport. In five minutes you can watch the horses load into the gates, run the race and find out the winners. I don’t have enough patience or interest in professional team sports with their celebrity culture and fan rivalries. I love participatory sports and watching friends and family participate in tough displays of skill and determination.
I don’t overuse sports metaphors either, but I have to say, the remodel dust and pollen have had me on the ropes for the last three weeks. Finally some relief through the prescription steroids. I understand why the professional athletes want to use them-they work! I feel almost like working today.
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Life and Death
April 22nd, 2010
Life and Death By Stan Weddle
Life is an awesome experience. How marvelous that we can be aware of our existence and even to a great extent, determine how our life story develops. Our life is the direct result of our parents. We didn’t have a vote in the matter, but here we are. Personally, I love my life. I have a general idea of how I want my life to be. I plan and work to make, and keep, my life the way I want it. Not everything that I plan works out the way I expect. There are too many variables that I can’t control. Most days I’m pleased with the results. I chose to count every day as a good day.
I think a lot about what part luck or chance plays in people’s lives. We were given our genetic makeup, and had no choice of the location and timing of our birth. We are strongly drawn to the religion and politics of our parents and of the community we grow up in. Our gender and preferences for potential mates were determined before we were born. The order in which we are born affects us. So many things that make us who we are, are not of our choosing. And yet, so many things in our lives are determined by the choices we make. We can move to another part of the world; we can change our religion and political thinking; we can change our mates and friends. We can become almost anyone we want to be. We can also choose to not make so many changes. Most people live their entire lives in the area where they were born. They practice the lifestyle of their ancestors. They follow the same religion. The choice is the individual’s to make. Some argue that we don’t have much choice at all; that it is predetermined for us.
We are each a unique individual. I love my uniqueness. I also can be inspired by the uniqueness of others. I can be happy being who I am and be thrilled by the life story and example of others. Our diversity adds richness to our lives.
One thing that we all share is a finite lifespan. We all die. Whether by accident, disease, or a body that just wears out from use, our life will end sometime. Life ends and the body decays. Many people fear death. Even thinking or talking about it make some uncomfortable. Why is so hard to embrace death as the natural event that it is? Is it because all our being is wrapped up in this thing we call life? There is nothing that we have ever experienced other than life. We love it. We don’t want to give it up. We would rather not consider it not continuing. But it will. Between birth and death we are conscious of our being. We can’t imagine nothingness. No one has returned from death without eventually dying again. The mystery of whether there is existence after death will remain a mystery until we experience our own death. Religions have developed ideas and theories about it, but there is no way of proving or disproving their claims until we face it ourselves; alone.
During the time span that we are alive, we protect and preserve the things we value. We value living. Whatever our circumstances, we cling to our life. Even when very ill, people struggle to live. We fight to nourish it. We don’t give it up easily. Survival is our strongest motivation. I love this life but I accept that death is part of it. I’m in no hurry for it, but I face it without dread or fear.
Previously published in my weekly column, I Wonder… in the Harper County Herald, an published here with permission.
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What If?
April 20th, 2010
What If? By Stan Weddle
I tell people that I’m the oldest of my siblings. That’s not exactly true. About a year before I was born, my parents had a son who lived only a few hours. He was named after my dad. I didn’t know he existed until I was, maybe five or six. I remember going on a ride in the car to a place in the country, near my grandparent’s farm. We drove up a rutted lane as far as we could, then walked on to a little country cemetery. We walked around among the gravestones and found a plot with a faded metal marker. I was told this was the grave of my brother who would have been called Junior. His body was too weak to survive, I was told. I was too young to think very much about it at the time. Later, when I asked about it, I wasn’t given any more information than I learned that day. I guess that I sensed that that was enough to know; I didn’t ask about it again. I don’t remember ever going to the cemetery again. Few times was he even mentioned. I’ve only recently thought about him, and wondered how life would have been different if he had survived.
My father died a few years ago, and I can’t ask him about his feelings and actions. Since his death, I have wondered about lots of things that I would like to know the “what and why” of. My mother is still living and I often ask her things that I remember, and about which I have questions. I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss this with her yet. Maybe in our next visit I’ll have the opportunity to ask some questions.
Growing up as the oldest was a fact of life for me. We moved to a farm when I was 13. My dad worked off the farm much of the time and I was put in charge of the farm work. As the oldest, I was expected to work and supervise my younger brothers. I was responsible for results. I took my work seriously. I learned many skills and was given more opportunities because of it. If I had been a second child, I would have lost many of the experiences that make me who I am. I don’t, and can’t, know all the things that would be different.
Things are what they are. The past is the past. Wondering about changing history is a futile exercise; it’s over. What we can learn from thinking about the past is how we feel about it. Why do we feel the way we do about our history? I don’t know why my parents reacted to their past the way they did. I’m sure that I learned to react to situations from watching their responses. As an adult, I’ve learned to analyze my behavior and base my actions on my own set of inner programs. Some of my personal values and beliefs came from my family; others are very different from theirs. I try to analyze new thoughts and ideas, and challenge my own beliefs. I try to judge them on a set of values that I hold as truth. I also challenge my own “truth.”
I don’t know whether there is any absolute truth. If there is, I don’t have all the information necessary to say that I know what it is. I don’t trust anyone who says they know anything absolutely. Many people who say they know something as absolute, have it confused with faith. I set a pretty high standard for my beliefs. I don’t know all the answers. I’m just wondering.
Previously published in the Harper County Herald in my column I Wonder…, and published here with permission.
Filed under: My Status, culture, death, life, personal responsibility, self-improvement, survival | No Comments »