Sunday, November 09, 2008

Second Sunday in November

I usually stay home as much as possible on the weekends. Weekends are our time to be together as a family. So, I do most errands during the weekdays, while Dylan is in school.

This morning, though, I felt like I just had to go to the gym. I'm working at getting a workout station set up in our garage, but it's not there yet. As I was backing up, Dylan came running out the front door. He asked me to stay. I told him I would be back soon, leaned out the window to hug him, and left anyway.

It's about a mile and a half to the "real" road into town, the first half being dirt. When I got to the road, I stopped. I thought about Dylan being eight, and about how things are changing. I thought about the real possibility that in a scant few years, he would no longer ask me to stay home. I thought about the day when he would move away, and I wondered if one particular morning would haunt me late in life: that morning when I decided to go to the gym instead of hang with my son.

I turned around to go home. I was a few hundred yards from our gate when our former neighbor and his son came up behind me in their car. They've recently bought a house in town, and will be renting the "old" one out. They'd come to burn some brush piles and do general cleanup outside. Brian, the son, asked if Dylan would be available to play. I knew Dylan would be overjoyed, both to see Brian again and to watch brush burning.

I told Brian that Dylan would love to come over. I smiled. Dylan wouldn't miss me in the least while he was hanging with Brian. I turned around and headed to the gym again. I pondered the passing of time. I thought of the day Dylan was born, and how, when I first set my eyes upon my son, it felt as if God had put a spotlight on him.


Debby said...

Dylan will grow up, but he will never outgrow you and Rhonda.

Pam said...

Debby nailed it!

Your relationship with your boy and his mom is truly inspirational.

God blessed all 3 of you!

Redlefty said...

Next time consider that an 8yo boy can be a gym! Football in the front yard, maybe?

quid said...

Beautiful story, Hal.


Roland said...

Do you like the gym or like to workout?

Give me $50 and you're working out in the garage and your son's hanging out with you, working out, or hanging out. Doesn't matter.

Sandbag ($10-20)
Dumbbell set from Walmart ($30-35 to start + $10 here and there as you get jacked and need more plates)
Jungle Gym (already got that)

That's ALL you need. Shoot me an email and I'll write you the program, too. No charge for good dads. :D

Bob Barbanes said...

Jeez Hal, every time I read a post about you and Dylan, I get a tear in my eye and a certain Harry Chapin song starts running through my head...

"Sniper" *

No wait, maybe it's "Cat's In The Cradle." Yeah, that one.

Glad you turned around and went back. Don't be like Harry Chapin, man. And by that I don't mean "lousy driver" (he got runned over in 1981 by an 18-wheeler when his VW Rabbit diesel stalled on the Long Island Expressway the day he was supposed to give a concert WHICH I HAD TICKETS FOR). No, don't be like Harry - you be there for Dylan.

As I know you will.

* Sniper and Other Love Songs