Generous Heart

To my son Tommy,

You give me plenty of opportunity to be proud, and tonight was no different. We attended St Agnes spirit night held at Mt St Joe's gym. It was a fun time filled with raffles and games and events and little competitions. We went around booth to booth winning little prizes at games like ring toss and mini golf. You got to participate in a kick the balloon relay with the some of the older kids, because we were a bit late getting there for your grade level. Plus you went around saying hi to people, from teachers to classmates and all grades and ages in between, like you were running for public office. But it wasn't your notoriety nor your balloon kicking skills nor your prize winning ability that made me proud of you.

It was your generous heart that made me proud of you yet again. At every little game, you got a prize. You started taking the same prize from every station, a little notepad. It perplexed us and we kept prompting you to choose more of a variety, but you seemed to be determined, almost like you were trying to corner the market on these little notebooks. Then it all became clear. As things settled, you pulled out a notebook, one by one from your bag of loot, and found a friend to give it to. "Dad,  I am going to give this one to Andrew." "Oh look there is Emily, I bet she would like this one!" You worked your way down through your plethora of notepads to only one, which you kept for yourself, which is perfectly okay.

I wonder when you hatched your gifting plan or if it just came to you on the fly. You have such the generous and thoughtful heart and that makes a daddy proud. You walked around with the one pad you kept and basically asked all your heroes around us, like your aunts and uncles and even some parents of your friends, for their autograph...though you called it spelling their name in your pad. 

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Small Head

To my son Tommy,

My beard was approaching Duck Dynasty levels. For some this look works but after a certain length it just starts annoying me. Plus I have an unscientific suspicion that beards harbor cold and flu germs. So the other day, when I was home sick from work, after I dropped you off at school, I came home and shaved.

When I came to pick you up from school, you looked at me and said, "You have a little head."

I had no idea what you were referring to so I responded, "That's funny, most say I am a fat head."

"How'd you get that little head?" you asked in all sincerity.

Still not grasping the link, I gave another smart-alec  reply, "That sounds like a question my fraternity brothers would ask in the old days." Like a good kids show, I like to shoot over the comprehension level of kids in most conversations, even when no other adults are there to give me disapproving looks.

You let it go for a while, or at least for the car ride home, but the first chance you had you grabbed me by my cheeks and demanded, "Why you get this small head?"

Finally, your sometimes slow father put two and two together and realized my fat head had lost all the extra fuzz, and, with my cheeks showing, my face looked much smaller. The rest of the conversation was explaining beards and mustaches and when you would have to start shaving. I remember when I was young and thought beard growing and shaving was the epitome of manhood. I would be tickled when my father would put some shaving cream on my chin and "shave" it off. Now, shaving is one of those manly chores that I could do without. The view certainly does change with age. Don't be in such a rush to grow up, you will have plenty of years of shaving, or perhaps of not shaving, soon enough. I just wish I had taken a self portrait before I shaved to show you what you might have in store.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Snow and School

To my son Tommy,

In the beginning of the winter school season, just the threat of snow is enough to have a day off in Maryland. I am fairly sure it was at least one day this year that schools were closed and it was a beautiful go to the park type day. It makes everyone older than twenty start telling stories of how this would never keep them from school in the old days. Anyone over thirty five might even be telling the truth. 

Back in the day people lived in the neighborhood that their schools were in. Teachers lived in the neighborhood the schools were in. So the decision to have school was an easier one. Fast forward thirty years, where no one walks to school anymore and teachers have to commute in for thirty minutes and actuaries and lawsuits seem to always be looming, and the decision to NOT have school is the easier. It results in those "cry wolf" or more accurately "cry snow" moments that make us use all the built in snow days as soon as possible.

That usually works out just about perfectly most years in the Baltimore area. But this year, that some news channels are presenting as "The Winter That Just Won't End", it didn't work out and made all the superintendents look foolish and incompetent. They were trigger happy in the beginning, then later on, on days like today that could have used a two hour delay to get passed the slick roads caused by the morning snow, they are so trigger shy that they won't do the right thing. Many school districts are already clambering to reclaim days off by canceling holidays and such. So there is no way they are going to potentially add to the current deficit. To be fair the school supers are handicapped by the lack of weather talent in the Baltimore area news channels.

And now for a weather story of yore to make you feel guilty and drive home the point of how good you got it. When I moved back from Italy, there was no housing available at APG so my parents bought a town home in a neighboring town called Abingdon. Problem is when the school year started, the house wasn't finished, so we had to stay with my grandparents in the Randallstown area and commute the hour or so up to my assigned school which was Bel Air middle. Since your grandfather had to get to work early at APG, that meant he and I started early.  Back then the school system would never just cancel, they would start with an hour delay, then move to the two hour delay, and then finally closed. Since army bases rarely close for snow, and we had to leave so early especially with snow, I would often hear about the school closing as your grandpa and I pulled in to the school. That meant I had the choice of staying the day in the major's office or staying the day at the base library. No snowball fights or sledding for me on those days. That is my story. Not quite walking to school, in three foot of snow, uphill, both ways...but you get the picture.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Nondescript Yelling

To my son Tommy,

Occasionally as a father we find it necessary to raise our voice and we don't even know why. I call this the nondescript yell. The circumstances of this specific yell are pretty standard. We usually have little to no idea what is actually going on, but have this urge to sound out with a booming call of your name. It often coincides with a third sense that you are up to no good or annoying your mother.

Recently I came in and you were whining or arguing with your mom, about what I had no idea. Instead of spending effort in figuring out the root of the disagreement, I simply bellowed, "Thomas Leo!" You snapped to quickly and immediately stopped your whining. 

Then you asked me a very simple question, "What?" I was thwarted. I had no idea what I was yelling for and if you even deserved my stern attention. I had broken the rules of guilt and innocence and presumptions. Then it dawned on me that I had a perfectly valid reason for yelling. 

You were involved in a disturbance of the force. The natural harmony of the morning was broken and it needed to be fixed. I could raise my voice and call your mother's name but that would not restore the balance, plus I am too attached to my testicles to even try. Unfortunately, you being the halfling of the group, I decided you were my best chance at correcting the situation. So. I thoughtfully responded to your "what" question with, "Stop pissing off your mother." You accepted my authority and flawless logic and stopped, at least for a moment.

Whether it is a fight with a parent, sibling, or friend... a father wishes not for justice or fairness but rather harmony and calm and everyone to shut it! We will find the path of least resistance to achieve this state of being quickly when it has been lost. If we have to resort to the nondescript yell, so be it.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Childish Communication

To my son Tommy,

After picking you up from school, you and I headed to CVS. I had to pick up a few things for myself and wanted to see if some of the over the counter nausea remedies could augment Mommy's prescription nausea medicine as this round of extreme antiobiotics seems to be getting the best of her. When you go into CVS a Pavlovian instinct kicks in and you head to the overpriced cheap toy section. I was all set to say no to whatever you were picking out, but then like Harrison Ford in The Last Crusade, you chose wisely.

You picked out a cheap pair of plastic walkie talkies. I flashed back to my first set of crappy walkie talkies and how they were the coolest. You couldn't get more than two rooms away, any alternate frequency would interfere or override,  the morse code button would stick, and you could get better sound quality from two tin cans and a string, but they were the coolest. I doubted a five dollar set (selling for ten) was going to be any improvement on the ones I used when I was young even with tech advancements, but you had me at, "Will you show me how to use these, Daddy?"

So tonight, everything was a mission. There were bunches of 10-4's and Rogers and Copies and Overs and Affirms and Outs. You would remember to touch the button about half the time you talked, and only about a quarter of the time would you forget to release the button when you were done. The whole concept is probably very alien to a kid who grew up with cell phones and video conferencing and such. As you talked on the toy cb radio, you would get excited and want to get physically close so you could share in your youthful exuberance. Ahh the feedback sound of two walkie talkies too close brings back fond memories. In the past, it would usually come right before a younger version of your old man, would turn say, "Come in Delta team! Come in Charlie team! Foxtrot Uniform! We lost comm. Looks like we are flying solo on this mission." I will explain what foxtrot uniform means later but at that time in my life, being a military brat and hearing it often enough in radio communication, I just figured it was code for a messed up situation. Turns out I wasn't far off but still totally missed the mark.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Or should I say Roger. Tango Mike. Daddy out.

Love War

To my son Tommy,

Twice this morning, I was treated to a "love war" between you and your mom. The first time I was still sleeping and only vaguely remember it invading my dreams. I thought it just a mother trying to correct her five year old and I didn't want to get involved. If he was misbehaving and I was still sleeping, he would definitely be her five year old and not our five year old.

Later, after getting dressed for church and waiting to leave, you and mommy re enacted the battle. It went something like this with quite the crescendo into screaming voices.

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you more"

"no I love you more"

"But I love you most"

"I love you to the moon and back"

"I love you infinity"

"I love you infinity times infinity"

Silence...followed by the mind blown sound and hand animation.

Then hugs.

Very cute. My mind wandered to the future arguments between parent and child. The patter and the volume will probably follow the same recipe but the words and topic would be different. To the untrained ear, the argument would seem filled with anger and resentment, and include words like "responsibility" or "for your own good" or even "because I said so". But deep down, when you learn to read between the lines, you will find that same sentiment of love, though a bit hidden.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Grocery Team

To my son Tommy,

I use this tactic sparingly, but if I ever need you to do something with or for me, I simply emphasize that we are a team. Somehow I drilled into you the team concept at a young age and as soon as you are part of the team you really up your game. I used this today for grocery shopping since you and I were doing it solo. Grocery shopping can be quite trying with a five year old so I resort to a plethora of tricks to make it enjoyable. If you ever decide to try this specific technique, there are a couple tricks.

• Involve and Engage. Today I involved you from the beginning. Your mom and I could make a grocery list simply from memory. Instead, we went into the kitchen and opened cabinets and asked questions. We counted boxes of items and let you determine if we need to put this on our list today. It added fifteen minutes to the whole process but you became invested and had you really had your heart into the shopping from that point on.
• Communicate and Discuss. Teams make plans. Coaches sit on sidelines with little dry erase boards scribbling x's and o's so everyone knows what is going to happen and what they need to do. We made a plan and clearly stated our goals and objectives. This seems obvious but the trick here is to not stop. Any coach that doesn't adjust and adapt as the game goes along, any team that stops talking when the game changes or starts going bad, are never going to have much success. We talked at the house, we talked in the car, we talked in the grocery aisles, and we talked all the way home. We adapted to out of stock items and certain aisles that were overly crowded. Each time we had to improvise and overcome, I once again reverted to trick one and involved and engaged you with the decisions, even if I had to prompt you to the right decision here and there.
• Make it fun.  Teams have fun. Teams give each other high fives. Teams have uniforms. Teams have fight songs. This time we skipped the uniform, though our last solo trip to the grocery store you wore your rennfest cloak and wizard hat. So this time we added the fight song. On the car trip over and back I taught you "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" and, though I am no James Baskett, you got into it. It actually served another purpose because you had the theme song from Disney channel's "Jessie" and that song was driving me nuts. To keep things light we also used the Mission Impossible theme on a couple of the aisles that we decided required a "stealth" mission. High fives on accomplishments are pretty norm for us, even for something as simple as finding the right level of greenness on the bananas,

It reads like a bad generic business management power point but it works. When you can get someone working with you instead of having that indifferent or, even worse, that antagonistic attitude, things become easier. With teammates like you and mommy in my life, it is so much fun playing the game of life that the fact that we win when we work together is just icing on the cake.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Knew It Was Coming

To my son Tommy,

Your mother wears glasses. I wear glasses. My parents wear and always wore glasses. All your aunts wear glasses and your Uncle Raymond had LASIK surgery but used to wear glasses. So on your five year well kid check up, it was no surprise that you failed your vision test at the doctor visit and they referred us to an opthamologist for a full exam. But it looks like I will able to call you four eyes soon. Of course you can turn around and do the same to me.

I am actually glad that your vision problem was caught this early. I didn't learn I needed glasses until high school. I was always a front of the classroom type of kid before high school. One class put me in the back of the room. The teacher would write notes on the board that we were supposed to rewrite in our notebooks. I was having difficulty making out the words on the board so I was copying from someone next to me. I still am not sure how I got in trouble for copying notes from the guy next to me instead of copying them directly from the board. They were the same words no matter the source and I probably got in trouble for pointing out the stupidity in the chiding. Anyway,  I ended up before the assistant dean of students with my father on his way. When your Grandpa Leo arrived, still in his Major Downey persona with brim of his hat two fingers above the brow and a look to match, he told the guy how stupid it was that I was getting in trouble for copying notes that  I was supposed to be copying anyhow. I think they had trouble stopping him from going down and giving the teacher a piece of his mind too. They decided to throw me out of school for the rest of the day. When we got out into the car he asked me why I was copying off the guy next to me. He drove direct to the eye doctor when I told him of my difficulty seeing. Not knowing what clear vision was before that point, it was quite the change and I was looking at the world with new eyes. When all was said and done, he drove me back wearing my new glasses and told me to go to class and he would go take care of me being thrown out of school for the day. I am sure he "politely thanked" the school for finding this problem and the way they patiently handled it. I just know I was supposed to receive a demerit and a Saturday detention for being kicked out for a day and for some reason that never materialized.

Anyways, soon you will start a familiar path of young kid wearing glasses. You will break a pair or two, lose a pair or two, complain about them, you will go for designer frames when you get older and start noticing girls more, you will switch to contacts when you mistaking lay believe the glasses are ruining your chances with the girls, etc etc. Luckily I have been there and done all that and more. And your Grandpa Leo gave me a great example of how to deal with all of those types of situations. Same recipe he used for most situations with me, patience and love and forgiveness and more love.

Sincerely with love from your four eyed dad,

Leo

An Absent Father Could Open Some Bad Doors

To my son Tommy,

I was on my drive home and listening to NPR. A story was on about Zahra Burton who is kind of like the Caribbean version of Barbara Walters but with that cool Jamaican accent. Though her story in and of itself is amazing, the thing that captivated me was one of her interviews. She was the chosen interviewer for Lee Boyd Malvo, one of the two involved in the sniper serial killer terrorist type attacks around DC.

You wouldn't think anything a possible psychopath could say would intrigue me. I had hate in my heart for this person who terrorized our area and made each of us question if just pumping gas would be our last action on this earth. Hate usually precludes hearing anything of value from that person. Surprisingly, words of wisdom can from the most unusual sources. In her own interview, explaining why he was willing to have her interview him, Ms. Burton said,

One of the reasons that he agreed to do the interview...was because he's never been able to fully address a Jamaican audience ... the message that he wanted to impart to ... Jamaican parents is that, when he was being raised, he had parents who were living abroad. And yes, they might have sent material things, but what he really needed was time to learn how to become a man, a responsible man. And the person that became that kind of father-figure for him was John Allen Muhammad who he met in Antigua. He wanted to make it very clear to the Jamaican parents who sometimes migrate, live overseas, send stuff back, 'Look guys, that's not what is important, what's important is time. You make sure that you're creating solid individuals so that they don't have the kind of holes that I had emotionally to invite this kind of trauma into my own life.'

There in the words of a convicted serial killer was the blue print to make sure that our sons, that my son, is less prone to turn out that way. Simply put, if you want to minimize the chance your son is led down the wrong road, just be there. Be there in more than the stereotypical "I provide a house and food and that is enough" way that many fathers allow themselves to fall into. Be there to grow your boy into a solid upstanding young man that makes you proud and will do the same for his son. Be there with love!

I follow a bunch of father types on all my social media platforms. Many advocate for engaged fathers and preach the importance of a father in a child's life. Having a good father, who also had a good father, who also had a good father, I don't think it really sunk in how good I have it. I don't think it ever sunk in how a father son relationship could be anything but good. The minute you were born I realized how much love I had for you and happily took up the challenge to be a good and loving father that my father had, by his example, put down before me. So sometimes hearing about the effects of an absent father seemed to be more a lame excuse than a reality. But here, from the words of what could be described as a father's worst nightmare for what his son could become, I honestly heard, for perhaps the first time, in a very real world solid way, how much a father can mean and make a difference.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Late Start

To my son Tommy,

It is amazing how quickly you can lose a good habit. Take for example our wake up time. On a school day, our wake up time is usually 6:40 in the AM. It gives us twenty minutes of cuddle and wake-up slowly time, followed by slowly increasing tempo of all the necessary chores, such as breakfast and getting dressed and teeth brushing, till it crescendos to going out the door with only have five minutes to get you to school on time. Luckily for us school is two minutes away by car. That is how it is supposed to work and how things usually do.

Well the past six days we haven't had to wake up at that time. Thursday and Friday of last week were snowed out. Monday was Presidents' Day so no school. Tuesday was two hours delayed so we could sleep in. That is why this morning, I rolled over and looked at the clock and it said 7:05. Oops, there goes cuddle time and all the extra time for the pleasantries. We were in immediate "move it or lose it" mode.

They (the infamous they) say that it takes twenty one days to make a habit stick. I believe this is more myth or urban legend than science. But the point is, it only took six days to almost lose a habit entirely. This holds true for many things in life, hard to establish but easy to lose. You have to continue to work at those things that you have established and achieved, be it in life or love. Turn your back for a second, take it for granted too long, assume you can take a quick break and easily resume, and it just might slip away. Then there is only one thing left to do...swallow your pride, accept your mistake, disregard your embarrassment, and go get it back. Hopefully it will only take twenty one days to correct.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Age Is But A Number

To my son Tommy,

Your Great Grandfather Leo was born Christmas Day in 1921. That means he is currently ninety two years old and some change. He has lived a long and good life. But frankly that doesn't mean he, or we, or even the medical profession should resign itself to the inevitable eventuality.

You see your Grandpa Leo took off work today to bring your great grandfather to the doctor. Evidently he is seeing things that aren't there, like things on the floor to pick up which is not good with his balance. He is also attempting to go out the door to talk to the people outside that aren't there either. Great Grandpa Leo even asked for a priest but when questioned why, questioned if he felt like he was going to die, he said no.

Maybe it is just the view of a young man, who hasn't fully accepted his own mortality yet, but just because someone has lived a long and good life doesn't mean you have to lay down and give up. Dylan Thomas's "Do not go gently into that good night" was always one of my favorite poems even before most people my age learned it from watching "Back To School". I do not find ninety two years any more or less comforting if his time has come. One hundred and twelve would do just as nicely. Prayers.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

P.S.

It Will Get Worse

To my son Tommy,

Whenever I complain to your Grandfather Leo about life, he simply says, "Don't worry. It will get worse." He purposely doesn't add any caveats. You may be tempted to add on such phrases like, "unless you do something about it" but that would be youthful foolishness. If you really need to add anything to his dark but true wisdom, you could choose "learn to deal with it" or "then you die" but that is still putting words in his mouth. Your grandfather isn't even trying to be dismissive or gloomy or uncompassionate when he tells me this. He will patiently continue to listen my gripes and groans even after dispensing this advice. He just wants me to know the plain realities of life. So my suggestion to you, if you feel depression or despair, don't go to your grandfather with your complaints!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Cheap Easy Comfort

To my son Tommy,

You enjoy play cooking in your play kitchen. Between that and the influence from the amount of cooking shows your mother watches, perhaps some day you will find a real joy and talent in cooking. But just in case, you better learn a couple short cuts from your father that he mastered in his drinking days.

Quick Easy Tomato Soup

One can of condensed tomato soup.

One can of diced tomatoes.

Splashes of worcestershire sauce.

Add all contents to a container and heat.

Make a basic cheese sandwich. (bread and American cheese slices will do)

Put it in the bottom of the bowl.

Pour soup over top (though try not to over drench the sandwich)

Enjoy.

This was lunch for me today. I could have just done the soup by itself but the real art comes in the doctoring additions. The diced tomatoes make the soup chunky and can even convince yourself that it is like homemade. The worcestershire sauce transforms it from normal tomato soup to that blood mary type taste. Putting the sandwich on the bottom just saves you the dunking time and helps avoid the dunking splatter mess. It isn't five star gourmet but it is cheap, easy, comfort food that even the most inept bachelor can make.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Night Out

To my son Tommy,

I went up to the bar tonight and all I have to say is life is not like it used to be. To understand what I mean by that, you really have to understand my life about six or seven years ago. Back in those days I could walk into any bar in the area, and I do mean pretty much any bar, and people would say my name. Bartenders would throw down a couple drinks and then ask me what else I wanted. Rounds would be bought and booze would flow. What would start out as a beer, or two, could possibly end up in a road trip to another state or at least end up as a four in the morning after hours party night.

Tonight, I walked up the local watering hole, I knew about three people but only one knew or remembered me. I had to tell the bartender what I wanted, a task that used to be relegated to those weird drink phases of my life. I offered my credit card to start a tab and it was swiped, which back in the day tabs were run for me on reputation alone. I sat there sucking down a few Guiness draughts.

Somethings never change though. The first two beers go down very quickly, almost a primer before I finally relax and enjoy the next drink. The good beers daddy likes are overpriced in a bar. Maryland lost to Duke in basketball, which was more common than I wish to admit, though Maryland is no longer going to be ACC so that will change. The bar was only populated with locals with a ten to one male to female ratio. People were still gossiping too loud. And the appeal for the bar life remains an ephemeral illusion that is more inspired by the chemical reaction of alcohol with the body than any real mystique.

So basically I learned that I am pretty happy that I had you and grew up. Perhaps if I ran into a few more friends, we would have tried to recapture some of our glory days, but if they are anything like me, it still would end up an early night by our old standards. And for this, I am glad.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Crafting Priceless Jewelry

To my son Tommy,

Since your mother can't drive and is still having problems, she asked that we not do the valentine thing. Not even cards because she would have to plan and workout a trip to the store.  Afraid of some type of trap, I reluctantly agreed. To be on the safe side, I had you do a valentine's day project with the whole family. It was a perfect project since we were still digging out from the previous day snowfall. We made one of those paper loop chains as a valentine necklace for mommy. You wrote a name on each link of all the people you love. It just goes to show that with some craft supplies and some love, you can create a priceless piece of jewelry that beats just about anything else you could possibly buy for the Valentine holiday.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Getting Old

To my son Tommy,

It will happen to you too. I don't care how often you workout or how good of shape you think you are in. One day, you will wake up and, much to your dismay, those weathermen will be more right than wrong. You will go out and start shoveling some very heavy snow and you will realize that you are every bit of the thirty nine years and change that you have lived on this crazy blue marble. Muscles will hurt that you were never aware of. You will look over with jealousy at your five year old son hopping through the snow like some arctic hare and you will wonder where your youthful vigor went. Perhaps the ages will be different, and perhaps the circumstances will be different, but one day you too will lament getting old. There is no return, so unless you figure out how not to grow old, shed your tear, take two aspirin, and soldier on.

Sincerely with love from your old dad,

Leo

Weather Watching Is Science

To my son Tommy,

You got a job the other day at school. You were the official "Weather Watcher" for your class which, from what I can gather, means you got to look out the window and pick the icon to put up on the cork board for the weather that day. You said you picked sunny and we started having a conversation about your choices. Evidently cold is not one of the options. Then our conversation took a turn for the worse.

I simply pointed out that weather watching was science. This didn't fit into your definition of science in school. I suppose you have a set science time and since this falls outside of that curiculum, it can't be science. Hell hath no fury like a five year old having his certain knowledge challenged by his daddy. Granted, I will give you that meteorology is not an exact science, especially in the state of Maryland where it is more in tune with soothsayers and horoscopes. Despite that downfall of our local "weather watchers", it is still considered science.

In fact most of what you are doing these days and prior, in your job of growing and learning, can fall under science. You are observing and cataloging and predicting and testing your predictions and conclusions. When you try a new food, when you test your mother's patience, when you mix colors on your drawing, all of it is science. If more parents simply pointed that out to their children, more children would not grow up fearing science. Science is the process of questioning and learning. Science is not knowledge, though that is the hopeful result. Of course that knowledge might be how NOT to do something, which was the result of many of your old man's experiments and life experiences.

We as parents need to teach this process of questioning and learning and science to our kids. Record the temperatures, classify different objects into groups, ask your child what he thinks would happen if...and then have him find out if he is right...it really doesn.  In my case, this means resisting the urge to answer your questions and make you work for your own answers. Every toddler is a natural scientist and with a little encouragement and some minimal guidance and simply pointing out when your child is being a scientist, this natural curiosity will bloom into a life long love of learning. Now it is time to do some weather watching for the family because ten to twelve inches of the white shroud is predicted for the Baltimore area, which means we will get nada or three feet.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Keeping Score

To my son Tommy,

Too many people count their accomplishments, the good things they do and the bad things they avoid, and expect this running tally to somehow shield them from the struggles of life. They use it to say, "I am a good person. Why is this happening to me?" or "I am not a bad guy. Why doesn't this stuff happen to those types?" I suppose it is human nature to keep score in all transactions and relationships of life to give us a sense of equity and make sure we are getting a fair shake,

But here is the catch, life is usually not fair. It doesn't care that you have given to a good cause in the past week. Brought a meal to a neighbor in need? That's nice. Didn't commit a crime? Good on you! In the grand scheme of things, doesn't mean you deserve a free ride. All that counting just makes you realize how unfair life can be and puts you in the perfect position to play the victim when you are behind in the count. That mentality doesn't get you anywhere. You spend all your time complaining how unfair life is and none of your time living life and making it better for you and those around you.

This does not let you off the hook for doing what is right and what is good. You should do what is good and right simply because it is. Do not count and expect rewards. Do not bargain with life and trade good deeds for easy living. It just doesn't work that way. Life is not a series of quid pro quo.

You do good because you love and you have received love. Not even God's love can be earned by good deeds but luckily enough it is a gift given freely to each and every one of us. And when we partake of this love, our heart yearns to do good and spread this love. And when we are consumed by this urge, we realize how little we do that is actually worth counting. The words, "I'm not worthy that You should enter into this house" seem to come a little more into focus when you think of life in this way.

So when you start counting all the things you do and don't do and it doesn't add up against the struggle of life, just stop counting. When you stop worrying about getting karma, karma will come to you. Then think of Mother Teresa and all the things she did and all the struggles she had to endure doing the right thing and start counting the blessings you do have instead of the rewards you believe you are deserved.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Never Forget You

To my son Tommy,

I have said before, "I could never forget you" which is not exactly true. It means I could never forget you for long. I realized how my usual saying was not exactly correct as I pulled up to our house and you were still at your grandmother's waiting to be picked up. Oops! That unspoken rider of "not for long" kicked in and I immediately headed up to remedy my initial error.

Just because you temporarily forget something or someone doesn't mean you totally forgot nor does it mean you don't care. Our minds get bogged down and distracted from time to time and despite claims to the contrary, the human mind is not good at multi-tasking. Sooner or later those things that are most important come charging back to the forefront. That is exactly what happened when your absent minded daddy physically drove by the house where you were to be picked up at and was in auto pilot all the way home.

I grew up with tales of kids being left behind. I heard them from your grandparents and your great grandparents. It happens. My Uncle Andy was constantly left by my Grandma Deezy in some weird and wild places or so the stories go.  But I think this may have contributed to my Uncle Andy's grandiose personality and his ability to fit in anywhere. I will have to teach you how to be self reliant and a good problem solver because I can assure you that I will probably forget you again in my lifetime. When it does happen, have faith that you are one of the most important things in my life and I will remember and come get you...eventually.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Evil Potion

To my son Tommy,

You are playing in the tub right now. You seem to be making certain toys drink a bath water potion and when they do you go into this maniacal laugh and declare that they have been turned evil. I think you get this from watching Sofia the First, but this is a common topic in literature, and art, and history, and even in real life. 

There truly are potions and concoctions that will turn the nicest person in to a beast or into a zombie. Anything from alcohol to heroin and just about everything in between can contribute to a good man's downfall. Then there are potions that can be worse but do not enter the body in the typical fashion, such as power and greed. Just remember, though the potion can explain the behaviors, it does not excuse them.

There is still that initial choice, that moment where you can decide not to partake, that plants culpability for one's actions firmly in a person's heart and soul. The choice may be easy for some and difficult for others, but it is still a choice. You might be force feeding your toys that evil potion in your imagination, but that is just a child playing in the tub, and the toys have no say in the matter. It may feel that the circumstances in life, be it poverty or peer pressure or tragedy, are forcing you take a sip of that evil potion, but you are much more stronger willed and have much more of a say than your bath toys.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Daddy Look

To my son Tommy,

When I hear, "Daddy look!" I don't always see what you want me to focus on.  I am not talking about the typical blow off here that all parents are occasionally guilty of.  But still I may not be looking at the color selection on your crayon project.  That is not the actual beauty of the moment.  When I respond, "Cool!" or "That's great!" with honest enthusiasm, I see the smile on your face beaming with a pride that comes from accomplishment.  You may have stayed in the lines and did very well or even put out an original work of art worthy of a masterpiece showcase, but the most amazing and beautiful thing in front of me is you.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

RIP Picasso

To my son Tommy,

At the ripe young age of 21 years, my cat Picasso, has finally passed.  He was often called Pica because of his sharp teeth that reminded my father of the Puerto Rican pica-pica vines and bushes.  He was preceded by the death of his brother Louie by about five years.  We got Pica in 1992 and later adopted his brother from the same litter when my Grandmom Deezy came to live with us.  He transcended many of the different eras of my life, from my college days, to my bar tending days, all the way to the present.  He lived large, often giving Garfield a run for his money on the scale and living the party life of Bill the Cat.  I am pretty sure that some of the girls I dated in college stayed with me just because of Pica's cuteness.  Even when he would do something mischievous, like biting my roommates toes because Eric's restless leg made it look like a rodent was under the blanket as he slept, Pica's cuteness would make it impossible to stay mad at him.  He lived a long and good life and was well loved and will be missed by most.  You, being allergic, will be better off without a cat at your grandparent's house.  Also your Grandma Ro and your mom were not the biggest fans of Pica in the last couple years.  But to your father, he was a companion and friend and though I will miss him it was his time.  Your Grandpa Leo held him through the night to keep him warm (they had lost power at their house) and spent the last day of Pica's life letting him know he was loved and not alone.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Did He Help You?

To my son Tommy,

Today I was getting ready for jury duty.  You woke up and came and cuddled with me for a bit.  You said, "Daddy, guess what?" and without giving proper time for a guess you added, "I didn't have any dreams this week!"

"No dreams?  Is that a good thing?" I inquired.

"No.  No bad dreams." you retorted.

"That's great!" I said with honest enthusiasm.

"Yeah." you responded matter of factly "God helped me out"

I smiled as what you said washed over my brain.

Then you added, "Did God help you out this week?"

"To be certain he did!" I thoughtfully responded, "Do you know how?"

"How?"

"He gave me a son like you!"

On a day like today, after a week like this week, within a quick conversation God has renewed me using a five year old angel (usually) as his tool.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Time To Get Naked

To my son Tommy,

Some time after work today, I was charged with drawing your bath.  I had the water the perfect mixture of hot and cold and the tub was filling nicely.  You came in to watch and I said to you, "Time to get naked!"  It wasn't what I said, but more how I said it.  (Mind you this post is for a much older Tommy and if you decide to read these before your eighteenth birthday, turn away now.)  It reminded me of my college or bartender days when I tried to convey enthusiasm or excitement to the ladies as I tried to talk them into strip poker or skinny dipping.  I didn't have much to work with, so I resorted to the Irish gift of the persuasion to convince them this was a good idea.  I guess I was trying to convince you that taking a bath was the cool thing to do right now, because Lord knows with the day I had I didn't need any arguments or hassle.  Surprisingly it worked better on you than I ever remember it working in my younger days.  It goes without saying those days were long ago and far away and I was a much different person then.  It does go to show you, if you say anything with the right inflections and intonations and resolve, you can make people look forward to most anything.  Often it is not what you say but how you say it that counts.  If I said, get undressed so Mommy can bathe you, with the matter of fact tone that is apropos of the required task, I doubt you would have been so excited to get all sudsy.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

What To Offer

To my son Tommy,

A tear shed in a funeral home is a strange mixture of sadness and joy.  It is an inexplicable mixture of grief and love.  There are no words that can reconcile these two extremes felt by a friend who has lost a loved one.  All you can offer is your presence, a hug, and a shared tear.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Forgive

To my son Tommy,

Moral consequences are only inevitable in fiction.  In reality, it seems karma is not the big "B" it is supposed to be, or at least it doesn't show itself on a punctual time table.  To be haunted by a telltale heart, a person has to have some conscience or some knowledge of how wrong they are.  In literature it always seems the villain goes to jail while the hero lives happily ever after.  You only have to look at big business or politics and their members to realize that is not always the case.

I tell you this not so you will become one of those scoundrels who doesn't worry about consequences, for you have too much moral fiber and too much goodness in you to become one of those.  Rather, I warn you of this so you do not become consumed waiting and watching for those other types to get their comeuppance.  Life can pass you by waiting and wishing for some ne'er-do-well to get what's coming to them and in the end it may not happen in this earthly lifetime.  And what will that get you?

That is why we practice forgiveness.  It is the gift that gives to both parties.  It frees your heart and your mind for those things in life that are much more important.  When you forgive, you rise above our petty human nature and mirror the divine.  It is one of the hardest but one of the most rewarding actions you will ever have to do.  Practice it well and practice it often.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Cliche

To my son Tommy,

I guess if I were your typical all American dad I would be writing to you about the Super Bowl right now.  In all honesty, though I love the game of football itself, I find myself somewhere between slightly amused and slightly disgusted with all the hoopla and extravagance.  All the extra, all the buzz, to me detracts from the game.  Even in my bartending days, even when my team was involved, I would rather take off and watch the game alone with heavy use of the mute button on the remote.

I just finished watching the halftime show and for the majority of the time my only thought was how that money could have been better spent.  I thought of the impending weather and those who have no shelter from the elements.  The shoutout from the troops overseas were touching but it was a case of too little too late.  Of course if I am looking for some uplifting moral story, perhaps professional football is not the best place for me to look.  The best I can hope for is some improbable against the odds second half comeback.  But with that kickoff run back for a touchdown, the improbable seems impossible and perhaps the best I can hope for is an early night to sleep.  Probably best for this old fuddy duddy of a dad.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Quick Report

To my son Tommy,

Today's letter is going to be a good example of non-sequitur because my mind has been jumping back and forth along the roller coaster of life.

This morning we were planning out a grocery trip.  I asked you to pass a flyer for Giant to your mom.  You took it, backed up and started running it over to her making an airplane noise.  It took me be a bit but I got it...it was a flyer!

Also, during the grocery planning phase, it dawned on me that I should use a tool to price out the grocery list before reading any flyers or specials or attacking our coupon stack.  Then, after pulling out the good specials and the coupons, if the total price falls while the item count rises or stays the same...I won.  If it rises, they won.

We got out to The Still for Aunt Kelly's 30th birthday.  It was great to see everyone and nice to get out.  We even worked it out so your mom could come.  She wore her wound vac up to the restaurant, then in the parking lot she disconnected.  She was now under the cinderella rule and had two hours before she had to be reconnected without going through a whole mess of a mess.  We got in just under the wire.  It sucks that we had to run out like that but you do what you have to.  They had got some sad news at the end of the party and we really wanted to stay and just give them some big hugs.

I miss the free time we used to be able to spend with Eric and Kelly.  At one time, your Uncle Eric and I were considered inseparable, but life happens and families happen and mortgages happen and such.  It does make the time when we can get back together that much more special.  You and Rhiannon and Garrett spent the night with napkins on your head in a bonnet and in your shirt collar as a cape running around the restaurant playing.  It was probably good that your Uncle Eric got us a semi private room.

On the way home from the restaurant, there was a major accident on the beltway.  We got to see a state trooper helicopter land.  We also learned a lesson about rolling down and up windows.  We learned that Daddy should warn you when he is going to roll up your window in case you have some fingers waving out it.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo