Ever forward
May 25, 2009
“You know that brush is wet, right?” my wife asks.
I don’t. Not till then. I smear the blue against my jeans, thinking that if I had bought them at the store like that, it would have set me back about a hundred dollars.
“Is he sure he wants to do this?” I ask.
“He said he did,” she answers.
“Do you believe him?”
She pauses then says, “I don’t want to.”
“Me neither,” I say, “but it’s his room, right?”
Another pause. Then: “Right.”
We had painted the Winnie the Pooh mural when our daughter was born, and she had slept beneath it for two years until she had to move out to make room for our son. But at five, he thinks Winnie the Pooh is for kids. And he is no longer a kid. My task today is to erase it. To paint over it and cover it up with pictures of Derek Jeter and Lou Gehrig.
I do not want to do this.
So this morning I painted the trim, the doors, and the other three walls, trying to postpone the inevitable. But with everything else done, the inevitable is here.
It’s just a stupid wall, I tell myself. But it’s not, and I know that. This is a symbol. A memory of the fear and joy of becoming a parent for the first time.
You battle the passage of time with your children. You fight to keep them small and innocent and on your lap. And even if you know they will soon be big and experienced and on their own, you fight anyway.
Painting over this feels like surrender. And I’m not quite ready to wave the white flag.
My eyes gaze around his room, and I catch myself wondering how much longer my son will be in it. He’ll start kindergarten next year. No doubt it’ll seem as if he’ll start high school the year after that, graduate from college the year after that, and the year after that I’ll be holding my grandchildren.
Somewhere in between, my son will realize something. He’ll find the truth about his old man. He’ll discover that I’m really not the superhero cowboy he thinks I am. That I might be tough on the outside, but I’m pretty soft on the inside. That I can’t fix everything, don’t know anything, and fret over a lot more than I let on.
He’ll have his own life with his own family. I’ll have to let him go so he can find his own way.
Such is the constant churning of life, ever forward and never backward. And though we plant our shoulders to the gears of our days and beg them to stop, they roll on anyway.
But just as I am ready to surrender after all, I spot something on my son’s dresser that makes me smile. Sitting there beside his Lightning McQueen lamp is my father’s wallet, left by him just a few hours ago. My normally steady hand seems to disappear whenever I’m painting trim, so I had called him for a little help.
And he answered. Just like he always has.
My thirty-seventh birthday is a little more than a month away. A lot has changed in my life since I was my son’s age. A lot hasn’t, too.
Still, after all these years, my father is there for me. There to help me fix the truck or cut some wood or tend the garden. There for advice or wisdom or to shoot the breeze.
Just…there.
The fact that I have my own life and my own family, the fact that I’ve found my own way, hasn’t changed everything. Time doesn’t always break our bonds. Sometimes it grows them deeper.
I move from my son’s bed to the tray of paint next to the wall, pick up the roller, and begin. Gone is the leafy tree, pouty Eeyore, Piglet, and Tigger. Gone is Christopher Robin and the unknown book he’s entertained his friends with for over seven years. And then, finally, Pooh is gone, too.
And that’s okay. Because as I paint I have in my mind a far-away picture of another man’s house and another child’s dresser. And I think of that man sitting upon the edge of that child’s bed, staring at my wallet.
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43 Responses to “Ever forward”
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I’m a writer whose first novel, Snow Day, will be published by FaithWords in 2010.
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Awww! I know that’s tough. But you have pictures and memories. The mural is, after all only paint. Believe me when I tell you I have painted over LOTS of murals. It lasted through 2 kids, not just one. And your kids will always need their daddy, no matter how big they get. Now, I want to see the after pictures. Are you finished yet? I coulda knocked that room out in a day, and put a wicked-awesome Yankees emblem on the wall. Too bad I live so far away.
What a delightful story! Time marches on whether we want it too or not. This weekend we painted the spare room, changed it into Reagan’s room, and converted her crib into a toddler bed – and that was REALLY hard for me to do. Your dad sounds like a great guy, and your son sounds pretty cool too!
It’s nice to hear about your father. Sometimes, we really can go home.
Ok, I need some kleenex,an entire box. This was such a precious, heart touching post. So filled with wisdom, and truth. Your son is blessed to have you as his father, God bless you both my friend.
Brilliant piece of writing. Yes, things change and move forward. All we can hope for is that we have made enough of an impact in the present to impinge upon the memory of our loved one’s in their future, and in a positive way.
This one should have been saved for Father's Day. It's hard seeing our kids grow up…mine are 9 & 5.
Loved it.
Very sweet!
As someone who has “painted over murals” many times, I’m telling you, they will come back into your mind at a moments notice, blindside you, and you will be placed briefly in that time again, reveling in the memories. They are not always pleasant, but they all form who this young man will eventually be.
And for the record, in his heart you will always be the “superhero cowboy” to him. Some things never change.
That letting go thing is so hard, so we just never told our kids that we never really did.
Beautiful! Beautiful! Beautiful!
I’m in a serious softy mood today – so the tears are flowing!
Thanks for sharing your heart Billy!
Thanks for going against the world and letting others see Jesus in YOU!
Blessings and love,
Jill
Billy,
As usual, a wonderful perspective. I am a bit farther down the road than you, of my four kids the second turned 21 today and the baby is 15. I also find myself a bit melancholy as I see my future as a grandparent right around the corner my day job over for the most part. But there is so much to enjoy with each stage. The 21 year old is my only girl and I so loved being her mommy but now I equally love being her “friend” as well. I suspect that there will be much to savor in the role of granny too.
God Bless,
Tina
My oldest is graduating from high school this week. It seems that our relationships with our children go through phases. They rush at the new part of their journey with great anticipation while I approach cautiously.
Painting on a wall, pair of shoes, a baseball, a tree, books, a favorite shirt or a dress, picture of a family photo session, a doll, the team softball (and baseball, soccer, basketball, etc.) picture … all these things and many more from the lives of our children have a way of burning themselves in to our hearts. Our son has been gone 5 years and our older daughter for two, and both of their rooms are relatively unchanged. It’ll happen, but why rush it?
Billy…I’m about to run out of tears! You get me everytime! Once again, this is something I can definitely relate to, especially now that Brittany is, officially, a high school senior. I realize that this next year is going to fly by at warp speed, no matter how much I try to prevent it from happening.
You are a remarkable father, my friend. What a blessing you are to your little ones!
Thanks for helping us to focus on the joys of ongoing relationships. With only one daughter, I do need those reminders about letting her grow up gracefully.
Billy, my sons are all artists so I allowed them to paint their own murals on their walls since they were in Junior High.
When my oldest son moved out, my middle son took his room and needed to “repaint it” to suit his tastes. I was very hesitant to allow it, because my son had painted his band’s logo and the lyrics to his favorite song on one of the walls. My middle son saved the one wall for awhile, then finally said he needed to paint over it. I called my oldest and asked if that would be alright and of course he said to paint over it. It was just paint.
But it represented so much more to me.
Now they have all moved out and on, and their empty rooms are painted plainly -representing their boring parents! But I have pictures of those Murals, and I have kept bins full of their artwork.
Like I’ve said before, I can’t live in yesterday, but I can visit occasionally.
Billy,
Isn’t it amazing how sweet that God is in helping us to see that every stage of our children’s lives can be as endearing as the next. God always seems to help us to see truth by reminding us of ourselves and Him. Sometimes, i feel as if i want to make time stand still. but, i know that would prevent me from continuing to enjoy the same wonderful experiences with my kids as they go from one period of growth to another.
If we are not careful sometimes we want time to stop time and sometimes we want it to hurry up along. Neither is good because that attitude keeps us from enjoying the time in the now. Memories of the past and dreaming of the future are both gifts from God, as well as living in the now. We should enjoy them all and yet not wish for any of them to be permanently fixed.
I loved this post. It showed your tender heart and your honesty. Which is why I like to come here and read what you write. I thought that I would let you know that I am participating in a blogging event this week that one of my good friends is hosting, called, “blogger appreciation week.” In my post today, I mentioned you and your blog because your writing has so blessed me and I wanted others to know it. I appreciate what God is doing through you in the blogging community.
Christy
You will always be his hero.
Billy,
Another emotionally, moving post! You are such an amazing father and writer. Just this post alone is a memory that will long live past the peeling paint on the wall that now covers a part of your child’s past.
You have managed once again to capture this moment in time, in the most eloquent words, to perserve in time, a priceless memory.
Have you thought about using a collection of your posts to put in a book titled, simply enough, “What I Learned Today?”
It reminds me of books like Life’s Little Instruction books, and the 5 People You Meet In Heaven.
By the way, I bought all of them. I love short little collections of peoples wisdom and life lessons they have learned over time. I think you should consider it. You’d certainly have the readership for it.
Love and Hugs ~ Kat
sherri! Even with photos I don’t know how I’d be able to paint over their artwork.
Two words: Big poster.
And, no, I’m not crying…I, uh, just have something in my eye.
Beautiful, Billy! Thank you for this . .
Sigh. (I´m always sighing here, but you forgive me, right?)
Gone is… and… and…
Ah, but there´s that blue promise. Always the blue promise… and maybe still the faint outlines of Pooh, if we trace our finger across the wall.
Thank God that Daddies never let go!! My Heavenly Father never lets go and He gave me an earthly father that never lets me go either.
When I was 20 and had been out of my parents’ house for about 6 months, I got insanely sick. I was so sick that I couldn’t even get out of bed. I called my parents at 5:30 AM, but was so sick I couldn’t talk–couldn’t even whisper. As I sat crying on my end of the phone, my Dad said, “I’m on my way.” He made a three hour trip in two and a half hours, packed me up, took me home, and nursed me back to health.
Don’t worry, Billy. Will may have outgrown Pooh, but he’ll never outgrow you.
Billy you are such an inspiring writer.. I always look forward to reading your post.. You have a way of getting to the depths of a man’s heart and then bring a word soo very encouraging from there..
I hear your heart as one parent to another. Our children are out and on their own now.. No grandchildren as of yet.. But just seeing that picture of your dad’s wallet was soo very encouraging..
And you also got a nice picture of the mural before you had to paint it what wonderfu memories, and many more wonderful ones to come!
Tamela
This is a great story! Thanks for sharing- I know those feelings…
L.L. – only you could be poetic even in a comment!
Great post from a father’s heart…Time does go by so fast! Like you, I can’t believe the baby I used to hold like a “football” in my arms is now a teenager! Learning to drive now with his dad, when he used to drive those cars propelled by his little feet.
You’re a great dad bro. Billy and even without the wallet, I think your son will know you’re there….always there….in his heart. God bless you and your family.
This was SO beautiful. I am thankful I clicked over today. I needed to read this!
Ah well. Life goes on. And one must remember: Each phase brings with it, more joy, more discoveries and more magic.
And.
I stumbled on your blog n real glad I did (:
In other news
B
Isn’t it crazy how these things all come full circle?
i just got home from spending the past week at my mom’s house… and at 40something, i still love the little mom-things she does…like folding my laundry, making me breakfast, and laying out things in the bathroom she thinks i might need (like a new toothbrush, etc). {sigh} we never outgrow the need/want of our parents… and well, billy, with a dad as cool as you, i think your kids and their kids and their kids… (hopefully!) will be hanging out with you for a good long time!
Go with the flow? Poddy.
Oh darn..pass me a kleenex….
very touching…
sad to see them grow up.
Melanie
I know this post only too well. My 2nd born will be married October 3rd. It hasn’t hit me… not really.
In my mind she’s just playing dress up and planning a big party… I know once the day gets here it will hit me. My oldest is moving across country in a few weeks. She’s already been overseas for a 5 month’s missions trip… It’s hard letting them go…. it’s hard going to that “surrender”…. but we go… one step at a time…
I loved reading this because it doesn’t matter how old your children are it’s a universal thing… We raise them up to let them go.
Wow, so that’s not just in my heart, huh? So many of us parents feel the same, I’m keeping good company.
I just don’t want my little man to grow up, not too fast anyway. But he is, my Lil’ Tiger is growing way too fast.
Thanks for sharing, Billy. And always putting an eternal perspective on things. Love your writing!
–Tina
Much to love about this post.
Tonight, this is what sticks:
“That I might be tough on the outside, but I’m pretty soft on the inside. That I can’t fix everything, don’t know anything …”
Oh, to humble ourselves like that before our children.
Great work, Billy. Keep letting your soft insides show … to us and your kids, too.
This was absolutely precious. It would make a wonderful Father’s Day tribute.
Loved the last photo especially.
God bless you.
Brilliance , softly gracing and steadfast covenant.
and…. again this community graces. I painted a mural in the powder room / mudroom in our first house , busy with little ones and their sandbox , mudpie , playdoh finger washing. Maybe I’ll dig out the photos I took before it was painted over to ready the house for sale. Wonder how we paint on their souls….
Great post, Billy.
A very touching post, Billy. Our youngest son graduates from high school next week. It seems like only yesterday that he was 5 years old…just like your son.
It’s rough when they grow up, but they do still need us from time to time. That’s a nice feeling!
Blessings,
Beth
You caught my sentiment as my son dressed in his swim trunks for the first time this year asking, “Mom, is Spiderman for babies?”
He decided to wear the Spiderman trunks “just one more time.” (smile)
What a beautiful post! We also have a mural in our daughter’s room, and my heart breaks to think of the day when she will want to paint over it. I thought of that day even while I was painting. She helped design the mural, and it holds so many memories, just as Pooh and Co. did for you. It’s so hard to part with those tangible memory keepers.
It sounds like you have a wonderful relationship with your father. I’m sure some day in the future your son will think of you the same way. Thanks for such a wonderful post!
Beautifully written. You are correct; it will seem like he starts college the year after. My Boo Boy is in Iraq. A 1st Cavalry infantry soldier at that! Only advice I offer on raising children is to never make anything more important than the relationship with the child. My son certainly sanded off layers and layers of me until I was reduced to love. This Mother’s Day I received the most incredible letter from him from Iraq…a thanks for never giving up letter. No need for thanks, for I never knew how to give up. You have so much JOY ahead. Love, Deborah