When I went away to college 30 years ago, my mom‘s longtime friend, Donna Schrader, gave me little index cards that she had turned into coupons for cookies, bread and confections. All I had to do was mail them back to her and she would send me a tasty homemade treat.
I remember several of her care packages arriving at my dorm room in Seattle from her kitchen in the Independence Valley, and how much I enjoyed them.
All these years later, I still feel the love in those loaves, the care in those cookies.
We recently helped our eldest son move out to go to university, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the many great people who have invested themselves in his life and shown all kinds of kindness and generosity to him.
From the fathering side of the leaving-home-experience, I now understand a little more the feeling of gratification and satisfaction that comes from giving something to a young man or woman and having it be delightfully received and consumed with the ravenous appetites of youth. And I can feel a bit of how much those little cards might have meant to Donna when I sent them back with a happy word or two scribbled on them.
It’s wonderful and heartening to think of the people who have taught my son new things, like Rod Hudson of Newaukum Hill, who taught him how to turn wood and polish pretty rocks. It’s given my son expanded dimensions of delight as he explores fresh avenues of beauty and work in this world.
I think of the countless people who gave selflessly with that kind of understanding to me. I hope they know how much I appreciate it. I hope they felt good about working alongside me to lay down a few miles of track as the train engine of my life chugged toward the dawning horizon.
If I let myself, I also feel regret over ways I used those gifts imperfectly, or have gotten off track, or didn’t turn back to call out a big “Thanks and See You Soon” to the people behind me as I surged forward.
All of us continue to try to do better as we get older, I suppose.
And then there were the gifts that I wasn’t ready to receive. I didn’t send back all of Donna’s cookie coupons to her. They were so sweet and precious to me, I couldn’t give them up by mailing them away. I guess it didn’t occur to me that she would have just sent me more, gladly. And I probably didn’t appreciate how much getting them back in the mail might have meant to her.
But those regrets mellow with time as the gifts of old take root and burst forth with new delights.
Just a few days ago, my youngest son decided to make our family some chocolate chip cookies. I worked alongside him, fetching ingredients and taste-testing the dough much more than I should have. We laughed and enjoyed the time as we made something sweet together.
The goodness of the past lives on like yeast, leavening new generations as they rise.
My own son away from home is learning to cook and is proud of the meals he’s creating alongside other beloved adults who are investing in him.
On this pretty autumn day, between seasons of sun and rain, I hope that all of you can find ways to give to others and invest in our young people. May this also be a season when you meditate with appreciation on the folks who gave to you in one way or another when you were getting started or in need of a boost.
Maybe reach out with a thank-you or an “I’m thinking of you” to one of those good old souls. Or if that time has passed and they live on only in memory, maybe pass on something to a young person in their honor. Even if you never hear back, you might just make an impact that will last for a lifetime.
To everyone who has taught me, encouraged me, worked alongside me and even forgiven me, you have my thanks.
As always, let’s move ahead with gratitude, courage and delight.
Onward.
Dad Joke of the Week
Speaking of pretty rocks, my youngest son and I came up with this one.
Q: What do you call sad gems?
A: Cry-stals.
Q: What do you call friendly gems?
A: O-pals.
Q: What’s a happy cat’s favorite gem?
A: Purr-ls.
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Brian Mittge can be reached at brianmittge@hotmail.com. Send him some kindness or helpful remonstrance. He’s grateful for all of it.
