Braves Win!

I stayed up last night to watch the final out of the World Series. Though there were two naps and a shove by my wife to wake up, I saw it live. I’ll pay for this all day.

In 1966 my dad gave me a model car, a Chevrolet Super Sport, that had a transistor radio inside. It was the first year that the Braves played in Atlanta. I would listen to Milo Hamilton and Ernie Johnson Sr call the game. I would put the radio by my pillow and awake with the car radio on my nightstand.

That radio reminds me of baseball, but it especially reminds me of my dad. I have told many stories to my children and grandchildren about listening to games, going to games, but I also tell a few stories of their grandfather and great grandfather.

Baseball is not the one constant in life (Field of Dreams), but stories are. We tell stories and they shape legacies.

The car radio is on the right side of my desk at home. I’m looking at it now and remembering a great legacy.

A Legacy Story from a Check Registry

Daily oversight of my mom’s affairs was required when I discovered she had Dementia / Alzheimer’s. She transitioned first to my home, then assisted living and then memory care. Each time she moved fewer boxes of her belongings were making the trip.

As I was going through a box of her financial records, I discovered old check registries. (Before online banking and apps, most people recorded their checks in a check registry….look it up.)

The registries from the 60’s gave a unique history about the cost of living and how my family spent money. But, the registries from the mid 70’s were sobering. Several of the notes had my name on them.

Uniforms, gas, and cash were some of the entries that she recorded. It was a powerful reminder of how I was provided for as a teenager. Since my dad had passed away, mom carried the load.

As I read through those entries, the challenges and hassles I faced in caring for mom were lessened. The legacy stories were told by check registries. Mom really did do her best to care for me.

As you parent your parents, learn the stories that leave a legacy.

“You Must Be Present To Win”

‘You must be present to win’ is a statement seen at the bottom of many raffle tickets. Most of these are simply a donation to a neighborhood kid who is raising money for his or her school; we don’t even think about actually being present at the drawing. But if the prize is valuable, a new car for example, we will do all we can to be present.

I went to Morris Brandon Elementary School in Atlanta, Georgia. When I was in the second grade I tripped and hit my head on a rock at recess. I was taken to the front office with a temporary bandage until one of my parents could take me to the doctor for a few stiches. And there I sat quietly, waiting for what seemed like eternity. And then I heard footsteps. Next, I saw the black polished shoes, the dark grey charcoal suit…buttoned. A handkerchief decorated the pocket and a grey felt Fedora hat was in hand. All bankers in Atlanta dressed this way. My Father opened the door to the office and took hold of me, and for the first time that day I cried. One of the secretaries said, “Why is he crying now after all that?”

I was crying because I was in the presence of my father, and at that moment I valued his presence more than anything else. Mom’s and daughters, Dad’s and sons….relationships always need cultivating, regardless of your age. “You must be present to win.”