Tag: Parenting

A Legacy of Pancakes

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Playing, joking and doing stupid tricks are all part of leaving a legacy.

Do you have fun with your kids or grandkids? Regardless of who you are or where you are from, your kids will remember the crazy things you do together. Smiling, laughing and sometimes breaking things create stories that will be told at dinner tables for years.

My wife and I will have some of the grandkids over tonight. Their only request is to make pancakes and flip them over our shoulders to a plate 10 feet away. Last time it was pure craziest. They talked about it for weeks.

If we keep this up, this will be part our our legacy. – Moma and Papa know how to have fun.

It is your legacy. Have some fun!

Finish Well

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I woke up on October 20th, in Clermont, Florida ready for the day. I ate breakfast, shaved and brushed my teeth, and then out of nowhere I became emotional. I couldn’t believe I actually had an opportunity to pursue this dream. I had also been reflecting.

When my father was 54 years old, he died of cancer and I remembered the hands of those who wanted to simply touch his casket at the funeral. Now, at 54, my wife, two daughters and their husbands, and my two sons are about to watch me live to the fullest: their hands and voices cheering me on to completion. When you add the fact that just two years earlier I had a cancerous prostate removed, I was about to embark on a significant achievement for my family and me.

One of my goals as a father has been to influence the lives of my children so that they will have the greatest success. I was flooded with emotion as I realized that I was about to give each of them a lasting memory of what it means to finish well. This was going to be a great day … or two.

My gear was prepared for transition. My wetsuit was on. Although in comparison to the others, my bike looked like an uninvited guest at a black tie event, but it didn’t matter. I was at the party, and it was time to dance. I’ve got this!

The swim started, and I am already in big trouble. Within the first five minutes all my confidence waned as a 20 mph head wind made the lake rough for the swim. I also did not plan on the Adrenalin rush. My heart raced. Before I could reach the first buoy I flipped on my back to catch my breath and slow my heart. Suddenly, I see someone on a surf board come over and say, “Hey sir, are you ok?” For a brief moment I wondered if they would have to pull me out of the water. If that happened, I’d be back home in South Florida before lunch and I would never know if I had what it took to finish.

I finally calmed down as I remembered the song, “Be Still and Know That I Am God”. Just stroke and breathe…stroke and breathe. Making headway, but constantly off course, I finished the first lap in 55 minutes, but I was behind my self-imposed schedule. At the turnaround one of my son-in-laws said I should get the award for walking the furthest into the water before I started the second lap.

I felt calmer this time around. As I made the final turn to head back to shore, the waves really started rocking, the sun came out from under the clouds, and I became seasick (as in treading water and vomiting). I didn’t know that was even possible while you swam! If it weren’t for the help of wearing a wetsuit I would still be swimming. One hour and fifty-five minutes. I finished part one. I was still in the race and I was exhausted. I’ve got this.

As I changed into my bike gear, I found some comfort in the changing area.  There were six other men in transition.  I’m not last… yet. The bike portion began well.  I was hydrating and eating the planned food and the aide stations were well stocked with friendly volunteers.  The strategy worked and the bike performed well.  Except for a brief moment when my chain got stuck, everything went smoothly.  My shoes released easily from the pedals.  I still walked up that big hill, yet I saved a lot of energy.  No flats. A great ride, even though each lap took longer than the last.  I even received encouragement from an unexpected source.  As the leaders passed me on the second lap they each told me to keep working hard, I will make it.

After I finished lap two, 75 miles now completed, I began riding the final 38 miles. This was further than I have ever ridden. I was in the final frontier. When I finally would make it to the top of a hill, I had just enough energy to hang on downhill in low gear so I could grind out another hill. There were numerous times when my legs were on the verge of cramping, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body” resounded in my mind. The bike finish cut-off time was 6:30 p.m. and I was in at 5:57 p.m. Time to spare.

As I came into the bike finish, in front of family and many onlookers, I released my left shoe from the pedal with no problem, but the shoe stuck in the rear spokes and before I could plan an escape I was down. My family was screaming, onlookers gasped and I felt like a fool. I got up quickly with nothing bruised but my ego, and one hundred feet later I crossed the bike finish line. I had trained well and I was on target. All I have to do is walk 26.2 miles. No problem! I’ve got this now!

My walk started while it was still daylight. I was focused and determined, and I began with a surprisingly fast walking pace. Other runners were still on the course so at least I had company. The course was three laps on a very wide walking trail, with about a 3/4 mile steep hill per lap. A large part of the course ran next to Lake Minneola and was lined with antique style streetlights. My first lap took 2 hours and 4 minutes, a decent pace. I was on target. I mostly walked with the occasional trot. I felt confident as I approached the second lap.

After about a mile, I realized my legs and feet were not happy. My quadriceps were in knots and they were on the verge of cramping. My feet were bruised and blisters had developed over half of both feet. I was in big trouble. After a few more miles the trotting stopped, and all I have left is a much slower paced walk. It was after 11:00 p.m. when I started lap three. Nine miles to go. Keep standing. Walk forward. Don’t stop. On the last lap there are only a few of us left. Some can still trot and they pass me. A few call it a night and abandon the last lap. They don’t finish. The men of my family joined me. There will be no competive advantage for me; I’m at the end of the line. They simply provided encouragement and safety on an isolated journey.

The aide stations had been unmanned for the last hour. It’s just me and Peter who passes me early and Henry who passes me late. The officials from Sommer Sports sent a golf cart out to determine if we truly are the last participants. They told me they would be waiting. I’m close.

There was no short run of victory through the finish line, only a slow, deliberate and measured walk. The grass was unsteady under my feet. And just like the first place finisher, the finish line banner was stretched out and waited for me. Cheers, cameras, smiles and hugs poured in from my family, and the 5 officials who remained. No one else was there. Sommer Sports gave me a GFT Finisher T-Shirt and a medal, “Stronger than Iron”. I had finished.

After 18 hours and 46 minutes and 10 seconds at 2:16:10 a.m. on October 21, 2012, the day after I began, I realized a dream. I had completed an Ultra Distance Triathlon (140.6 total miles). I finished!

I have attended sporting events for all four of our children and now our grandchildren. The goal has always been to finish strong and to finish well, but no matter what….finish. Perseverance is a character quality everyone should have.

Don’t just tell your kids to persevere, live a story that requires perseverance. They will never forget.

It is your legacy. Finish!

Keith Albert # 7 2012 Great Floridian Triathlon

Finisher 18:46:10

Wearing a Tie

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On most days I wear dark jeans and a button down shirt that is untucked. That’s my style. I’m not trying to dress young, but I am trying hard to not dress old.

At my desk at home, a converted closet, I have one picture with my mom and one picture with my dad.

In both of the pictures I am wearing a tie. I’ve never noticed that until today. The one with my dad was taken when I was 8 at a photo booth in an airport. Four small pictures on top of each other.

The photo with my mom was taken 20 years ago, outside by purple bougainvilleas.

You will probably have to get married or die for me to wear a tie, though anniversary dinners are included.

And each time I wear a tie I am reminded that I like it, not because it is right or wrong but it is part of our story.

“Honey, put on your redress, we’re going out tonight!”

Leaving your legacy for the next generation.

One Blade of Grass at a Time

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Azaleas and dogwoods graced the landscape of my childhood homes. In the spring time the colors were breathtaking.

One of my regular chores as a teenager was weeding the flower beds. I learned how to get the roots out and always felt pride when the job was done.

When I became a homeowner I tried to keep up the tradition. And …like my mom … I have made our kids take their turn with the lawnmower and edger.

When one of my sons moved into his first home, one of the first things he bought was a lawnmower. “Dad, I just love the smell of fresh cut grass.”

Leaving a legacy for the next generation … one blade of grass at a time.

A Printed Note

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My mom wrote many notes to her grandchildren. They loved the card and the note, but they could never read it because the writing was in a flowing cursive style. It looked beautiful. Eventually, but the grandkids could never read it.

I told mom that we all loved the card and then I would ask if she would please print. This is not a cursive / print debate. I write notes in cursive, but it was for her grandchildren to enjoy the note themselves without translation.

As far as I know, I never remember a printed note. When our family sees that style of writing today, we often say it is a Mimi note. It is part of my mom’s legacy. She wrote beautiful cursive notes.

But, it is also part of how I am learning to communicate. Not only do I want an attractive style, but I also want to be understood.

Communicate to be understood, regardless of how simple you need to express your thoughts, even if you have to print. Your kids and grandkids will enjoy.

A Realistic Legacy

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Your children may have different experiences with their grandparents. Some of the experiences may be fun and some more difficult.

My mom is known by my children in different ways. My older girls remember her playing with bows, bracelets and necklaces. Mom was younger and they remember her in more playful ways.

My youngest son remembers my mom as the grandmother with dementia who shared a bathroom with him. Let’s just say those stories are best kept private.

But it doesn’t matter. All of these stories can be crafted into a realistic legacy that is passed along. Someone once said there is a time to laugh and a time to cry. That’s life.

Sometimes I have fun with my younger son by saying, “one day you will be old and standing “naked” in the doorway in front of your adult children. We all laugh and the burden is lessened because we share it together. Tell your stories.

A Hidden Legacy

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After discovering my mom’s dementia and Alzheimer’s, my wife and I moved her into our home. It took a couple of months to downsize her belongings.

The closet on her porch was the last place I cleaned out. Buried on the floor, surrounded by gardening tools, were four large brown cardboard boxes full of newspaper clippings. I had never seen them.

The clippings and photos were mostly from the 1930’s through the 1950’s. Dating, WWII (extensive), civic clubs, family, banking, there was even a picture that looked like the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

I was stunned. No one ever shared these stories….at least to me.

There are several reasons for this blog. I’m still working on the ultimate clarifying theme, but here is what I’m thinking.

I want to write as many stories as I can so that my children and grandchildren know what mattered to me. And I want them to pass these stories (the good ones) to the next generation. I want to leave an intentional legacy that is not left in cardboard boxes or with the thousands of social media pictures that will be deleted when the storage is full.

I want to help you ….. yes you… the reader of this blog…. to have a healthy relationship with your children or your parents. It’s hard. You will need to be intentional. You may need to reconnect. You will need to listen and learn and love and show grace and forgive.

I want to help you leave a good legacy. I want it to be remembered for the next generation. Don’t be silent. Don’t hide your legacy. Tell it!

And I want to help you tell your parents legacy!

Aroma

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This is a parenting tip. Your aroma speaks louder than your words. Your aroma is the tone, expressions, behaviors and attitudes that reflect who you are. They are caught, not taught.

When children are younger they copy. All you have to do is say a bad word and they will repeat it (in front of their teacher) when you least expect it.

Parenting teenagers is tough. However, if the aroma doesn’t match the words, it will be tougher.

Joy, laughter, kindness, fun, grace, forgiveness, value and respect are better tones than being critical, judgmental and harsh. Whatever the tone of your home is … it will fill every room.

There is a power when the words and aroma match. Whether good or bad, your children will become just like you.

Resilience

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Our backyard has nine bougainvillea bushes and vines. Red, yellow and purple blossoms completely cover our fence line. They are beautiful.

For years my kids hated these vines. Sharp thorns scratched their hands and arms when wayward balls and frisbees were swallowed by the bushes. But they have accepted the fact that these thorny blossoms are part of my story.

I have traveled through Central and South America. In every remote, dry and dusty village, even though there are no signs of any foliage, we would often see bougainvilleas. They were resilient. Growing in places where nothing else would grow.

Part of the legacy I want to leave to my children and grandchildren is for them to have resilience. And every time they see a bougainvillea, I hope they think of dad and think of being resilient.

The Tangerine Tree

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One of my sons planted a tangerine tree in the backyard. He carefully planted, weekly weeded and fertilized regularly.

He did this for months, then years and still no tangerines. We were all wondering why the tree was not producing fruit.

A friend of mine stopped by and looked at the tree. He said, “ Oh, that tree will never produce fruit…..it is not a fruit bearing tree.” I’m thinking why is it even called a tangerine tree.

When my son came home later in the day I tell him the bad news. He walks to the garage, raises the door, grabs the axe and in one blow destroys the fruitless tree. He drags the tree to the street, closes the garage, washes his hands and then goes to do homework.

It was so frustrating. The tree was expected to grow.

That simple story is one that I often tell. It is one of our family legacy stories. It will be passed down to his children one day. And like that tree we are expected to grow; mentally, physically, spiritually, and in relationships.