The month of December is filled with incredible highs and lows - at least for me. I've written twice already this month about two of the most wonderful experiences I've had during this month - the birth of two of my children, my eldest and my youngest.
Unfortunately, today marks the anniversary of one of the worst lows I've had too - the death of my father, John Hughes, who passed on this day 31 years ago. The good news was I had, with my bride and two children in tow, just visited my parents less than two weeks before his death. My dad had literally begged me to come visit him and mom so he could see his only granddaughter and the newest of his grandsons, my boy who had been born in July of that year.
I had resisted the visit because we were broke and I didn't want to incur any more charges to credit cards. However, for whatever reason, I finally gave in to my dad's requests to come visit and arranged the trip, going into further debt. The weather was beautiful in Southern California while we were there and we spent most of our time simply visiting with my parents.
My dad, on several occasions, said things like, "This will probably be my last Christmas" and "It will likely be the last time I'll see you". As a 33 year-old man, unaccustomed to discussing death, I kept telling my dad to "Quit being so morbid". I have to confess that he did look weak and tired, but I didn't want to face the facts that my old man, who had had several heart attacks over the years and had undergone open heart surgery, might be as sick as he said.
This, after all, was the toughest person I had ever known - and still, to this day, have ever known.
When the day came for us to return home, he hugged me longer than usual and kissed me, then telling me how much he loved me and how proud I had always made him. We were both choked up as I, and my family, left. There were things that I should have said that day that I didn't. I will always regret that I didn't have the courage to do so. That day was December 9th, 1979. 10 days later my father died.
I was out on sales calls on December 19th, 1979. I had finished a lunch appointment with a client and instead of returning to my office, I decided to make some cold calls on clients in the nearby area. It was a clear, beautiful day in Denver. So, after making a couple of calls, I finally returned to my office in downtown Denver.
When I walked in, I knew something was wrong almost immediately. My secretary had a strange look on her face when I said hello, and as I glanced into my office, my wife was in there, speaking on the telephone. I was puzzled. My bride quickly hung up the phone and when I walked in, she closed the door behind me. She then came to me, hugged me and said, "Your Dad died this morning."
Like the trooper she always was, my wife had already started the wheel in motion. She had made plane reservations for me for later in the early evening, and had arranged for her parents to babysit our children, so she could join me later.
The next several days were awful. My mother and brothers were waiting for me, and arrangements had already been made. My mom, of course, was in state of shock as she told me the events of the day.
My dad had not been feeling well so had told my mom he was going to lie down. A few minutes later, my mom heard a sound come from the bedroom. She went into the bedroom and called, "John...John..." several times. There was no response. As we determined later, the sound she heard was his last breath. My dad had suffered his final and fatal heart attack.
I don't know that I have ever cried as much as I did over the next few days. Though we all knew my father wasn't in the best of shape, none of us expected him to die so suddenly. Compounding my general sadness over the loss of my father was the fact that I simply didn't take the time to tell him all the things I should have when I visited only a few days before.
It is now 31 years later and it is still one of the biggest regrets of my life. I miss him almost every day and wish he were here so that I could tell him those things. Knowing I am 64 and my life is in it's December, I know I'll be seeing him sooner rather than later is also knowing I'll have that opportunity again.
Old Fart Mike
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Surprise Christmas Gifts
Today, is the birthday of my youngest child. My wonderful son, Kevin, who weighed 8 lbs. 9 oz. at his birth, 28 years ago.
In early March of 1982, my bride and I were very surprised to learn that a third child would be on the way later in the year. We had had a very difficult time in conceiving after the birth of our first child and felt we were extremely lucky when our second child was born. My bride had suffered miscarriages, and, as we were in our mid-thirties, we felt that our time was up for having babies. So, we had pretty much resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have only two children. But God had different plans for us. As is always the case with His decisions, we were blessed with the addition of our beautiful baby boy. Kevin always has taken our comment about being surprised the wrong way, unfortunately, thinking he wasn't wanted. This has never been the case, of course, it was just we were incredibly surprised that we were pregnant.
Since his mother had undergone an emergency C-section with the birth of Kevin's older brother, Ryan, some 3 1/2 years prior, and medical procedures had not yet reached a point where natural childbirth could be conducted after a C-section had transpired, we were able to schedule Kevin's birth.
His older sister's birthday was December 8th, and we didn't want to conflict with that, so we opted for December 10th, allowing for a separation of a day in between the two - allowing the two children to have their celebrations apart from one another.
We were living on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, where few facilities existed, so we had to make the trek to Beaufort - 40 some odd miles to Beaufort Memorial Hospital, and actually driving off an island via trestle bridge that had been closed the winter before in typically high winter winds, which did not us ensure getting off the island, to the mainland in some pretty bad weather. We left rather early in the morning that fateful day, excited about the arrival of the newest member of our family. As was the case with our other two children, we had decided not to determine the gender of the forthcoming baby, preferring to be surprised.
We had narrowed down names for a boy to either Colin, Connor, or Kevin, deciding to make up our mind once we actually saw our newborn child. We arrived at the hospital about 45 minutes prior to the 9:00 AM appointment for "delivery" - that's how excited we were - and checked in.
At a little after 9, I kissed my bride and she was wheeled away to the delivery room. I was left to wait, praying that all would go well. Since I knew I had a few minutes at least, I snuck outside and chain-smoked about 8 cigarettes in succession. Returning, I was advised that I was the father to a new, healthy, baby boy and that my wife was doing fine. Though it sounds trite now, I about jumped for joy. And, I silently said a prayer of thanks.
A few minutes later, while my wife was still recovering, I saw - and held - my beautiful baby boy for the first time. Though I had done this twice before with my other two children, nothing compares to the joy of meeting you newborn for the first time. Tears, of course, were shed, as I, again, was delighted with newest addition.
When my bride came to in her room a little while later, she too, was able to become acquainted with this little ball of wonder. He had a full head of hair, and dark eyebrows. We smiled, kissed each other, and him. Obviously, we had to examine our baby, checking for all his fingers, toes, and the like. He was beautiful, just like the others.
After a few minutes, the subject of a name came up. My wife said, "He looks like a Kevin" - something I had been thinking a few minutes earlier. So, our boy now had a name. Our third love affair began that day.
The days, months and years pass all too quickly, as parents throughout history can tell you. Today, our youngest progeny celebrates his 28th birthday.
Over the years, there have been so many wonderful moments - and as I said about my daughter, who just celebrated her birthday 2 days ago - the highlights of those years are too many to list here.
However, watching him grow into the fine young man he is today has certainly had it's impact on my life.
There are specific moments we've shared I'll never forget. Going with him & his mom to pick out his dog, a Golden Retriever he named Mercedes, and seeing the smile and love on his face. The weekend we spent together going first to Norman for an Sooner football game, then on to Dallas to watch the Cowboys play the Giants, spending the night at a hotel, was memorable, and a chance for us to re-bond. Picking him up from football practice at Kelley, when his Pads smelled so bad it stunk up the car and us laughing so hard, I could hardly drive. Taking him and his friends to OSU to register for classes for the first time; the Dad's days we spent together; Our Vegas trip celebrating his 21st birthday; seeing him fall in love; so many more.
He is a remarkable young man. An incredible sense of humor, plus a sensitivity unknown to most young men of his age.
Over the years, I have been blessed with many Surprise Christmas gifts, but he was absolutely the best.
Old Fart Mike
In early March of 1982, my bride and I were very surprised to learn that a third child would be on the way later in the year. We had had a very difficult time in conceiving after the birth of our first child and felt we were extremely lucky when our second child was born. My bride had suffered miscarriages, and, as we were in our mid-thirties, we felt that our time was up for having babies. So, we had pretty much resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have only two children. But God had different plans for us. As is always the case with His decisions, we were blessed with the addition of our beautiful baby boy. Kevin always has taken our comment about being surprised the wrong way, unfortunately, thinking he wasn't wanted. This has never been the case, of course, it was just we were incredibly surprised that we were pregnant.
Since his mother had undergone an emergency C-section with the birth of Kevin's older brother, Ryan, some 3 1/2 years prior, and medical procedures had not yet reached a point where natural childbirth could be conducted after a C-section had transpired, we were able to schedule Kevin's birth.
His older sister's birthday was December 8th, and we didn't want to conflict with that, so we opted for December 10th, allowing for a separation of a day in between the two - allowing the two children to have their celebrations apart from one another.
We were living on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, where few facilities existed, so we had to make the trek to Beaufort - 40 some odd miles to Beaufort Memorial Hospital, and actually driving off an island via trestle bridge that had been closed the winter before in typically high winter winds, which did not us ensure getting off the island, to the mainland in some pretty bad weather. We left rather early in the morning that fateful day, excited about the arrival of the newest member of our family. As was the case with our other two children, we had decided not to determine the gender of the forthcoming baby, preferring to be surprised.
We had narrowed down names for a boy to either Colin, Connor, or Kevin, deciding to make up our mind once we actually saw our newborn child. We arrived at the hospital about 45 minutes prior to the 9:00 AM appointment for "delivery" - that's how excited we were - and checked in.
At a little after 9, I kissed my bride and she was wheeled away to the delivery room. I was left to wait, praying that all would go well. Since I knew I had a few minutes at least, I snuck outside and chain-smoked about 8 cigarettes in succession. Returning, I was advised that I was the father to a new, healthy, baby boy and that my wife was doing fine. Though it sounds trite now, I about jumped for joy. And, I silently said a prayer of thanks.
A few minutes later, while my wife was still recovering, I saw - and held - my beautiful baby boy for the first time. Though I had done this twice before with my other two children, nothing compares to the joy of meeting you newborn for the first time. Tears, of course, were shed, as I, again, was delighted with newest addition.
When my bride came to in her room a little while later, she too, was able to become acquainted with this little ball of wonder. He had a full head of hair, and dark eyebrows. We smiled, kissed each other, and him. Obviously, we had to examine our baby, checking for all his fingers, toes, and the like. He was beautiful, just like the others.
After a few minutes, the subject of a name came up. My wife said, "He looks like a Kevin" - something I had been thinking a few minutes earlier. So, our boy now had a name. Our third love affair began that day.
The days, months and years pass all too quickly, as parents throughout history can tell you. Today, our youngest progeny celebrates his 28th birthday.
Over the years, there have been so many wonderful moments - and as I said about my daughter, who just celebrated her birthday 2 days ago - the highlights of those years are too many to list here.
However, watching him grow into the fine young man he is today has certainly had it's impact on my life.
There are specific moments we've shared I'll never forget. Going with him & his mom to pick out his dog, a Golden Retriever he named Mercedes, and seeing the smile and love on his face. The weekend we spent together going first to Norman for an Sooner football game, then on to Dallas to watch the Cowboys play the Giants, spending the night at a hotel, was memorable, and a chance for us to re-bond. Picking him up from football practice at Kelley, when his Pads smelled so bad it stunk up the car and us laughing so hard, I could hardly drive. Taking him and his friends to OSU to register for classes for the first time; the Dad's days we spent together; Our Vegas trip celebrating his 21st birthday; seeing him fall in love; so many more.
He is a remarkable young man. An incredible sense of humor, plus a sensitivity unknown to most young men of his age.
Over the years, I have been blessed with many Surprise Christmas gifts, but he was absolutely the best.
Old Fart Mike
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
My Little Girl
On this day in 1974, my life changed for the better with the arrival of my beautiful 6 pound, 1 ounce baby girl. My wife and I, who had been married less than 4 years at the time, had decided to wait awhile to have children, and like most expectant parents at the time, didn't know exactly what life had in store for us with the arrival of a new baby.
When my bride first found out she was pregnant, she rushed to my office to tell me. Her excitement was so great that en route, she received a speeding ticket - probably the only one she has ever received. When she came into my office, she was flustered, so I got up and closed my door. She said, "I have something to tell you - we're gonna have a baby!" I got up and rushed to her and hugged and kissed her.
We did the things that were in fashion those days, including practicing the La Maze method of giving birth. We learned how to breathe properly, and I was to be her coach in the delivery room, helping her along the way. We read books about new babies and becoming parents. We bought furniture for the new baby, and friends had baby showers for my bride.
It was incredibly exciting and, at the same time, anxiety filled. The last six weeks or so seemed like they would never end as my wife expanded in size and we awaited the birth. We opted not to find out beforehand the sex of our baby, preferring to wait and be surprised, the old-fashioned way. I was secretly hoping for a girl since the female gender were a rarity in the Hughes clan, but, as with all parents-to-be, the overriding sentiment was simply for a healthy baby.
When the day finally came, a long labor ensued and, finally, the doctors determined that my bride and I needed to suspend our La Maze method in favor of some drugs for my wife to complete the birthing process. As I was then shuffled into a waiting room, I prayed long and hard that everything would be okay.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 15 or 20 minutes, a nurse appeared behind the glass partition with a tiny little baby wrapped in a blanket to show me. My heart was beating so fast it wasn't funny. I finally had to motion to her to unwrap that baby, after attempting to mouth the words, "What is it?" several times.
When she did expose the baby, I saw that I had a Daughter. Before I knew it, I realized I had tears streaming down my face.
A few minutes later the doctor said I could come see my daughter and my wife, both of whom were doing well. Since my bride was mostly knocked out, I had the privilege of holding my beautiful little daughter first. It was then I knew depths of love only a parent can know. It was then I knew that I would lay down my life for this little life that I helped create.
The years, of course, now seem to have gone by in a blur. She is married for almost 10 years and has a wonderful child of her own.
But, the memories I have of her throughout the years are vivid. Seeing her bundled up in a snow suit where she could hardly move. Having her come into the backyard with her little friend. Having her cry out with glee, "Daddy!!!" when she saw me walk in the door from work. Taking her to a father/daughter square dance. Sitting on my lap, cuddling and watching TV. Watching her competitiveness, as she swam on swim teams, and won so many events. Seeing her go out on dates. Watching her drive. Taking her off to college. Seeing her get her college degree - the first woman on either side of the family to do so. Falling in love. Walking her down the aisle. Having her tell her mom & I she was pregnant, and doing so in a way only she could do. Being there when she gave birth to our grandson.
There are so many more things I could say about this wonderful woman and the memories I have of and with her. She grew from a beautiful baby into a beautiful woman. But, to me, she will always be My Little Girl.
Old Fart Mike
When my bride first found out she was pregnant, she rushed to my office to tell me. Her excitement was so great that en route, she received a speeding ticket - probably the only one she has ever received. When she came into my office, she was flustered, so I got up and closed my door. She said, "I have something to tell you - we're gonna have a baby!" I got up and rushed to her and hugged and kissed her.
We did the things that were in fashion those days, including practicing the La Maze method of giving birth. We learned how to breathe properly, and I was to be her coach in the delivery room, helping her along the way. We read books about new babies and becoming parents. We bought furniture for the new baby, and friends had baby showers for my bride.
It was incredibly exciting and, at the same time, anxiety filled. The last six weeks or so seemed like they would never end as my wife expanded in size and we awaited the birth. We opted not to find out beforehand the sex of our baby, preferring to wait and be surprised, the old-fashioned way. I was secretly hoping for a girl since the female gender were a rarity in the Hughes clan, but, as with all parents-to-be, the overriding sentiment was simply for a healthy baby.
When the day finally came, a long labor ensued and, finally, the doctors determined that my bride and I needed to suspend our La Maze method in favor of some drugs for my wife to complete the birthing process. As I was then shuffled into a waiting room, I prayed long and hard that everything would be okay.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 15 or 20 minutes, a nurse appeared behind the glass partition with a tiny little baby wrapped in a blanket to show me. My heart was beating so fast it wasn't funny. I finally had to motion to her to unwrap that baby, after attempting to mouth the words, "What is it?" several times.
When she did expose the baby, I saw that I had a Daughter. Before I knew it, I realized I had tears streaming down my face.
A few minutes later the doctor said I could come see my daughter and my wife, both of whom were doing well. Since my bride was mostly knocked out, I had the privilege of holding my beautiful little daughter first. It was then I knew depths of love only a parent can know. It was then I knew that I would lay down my life for this little life that I helped create.
The years, of course, now seem to have gone by in a blur. She is married for almost 10 years and has a wonderful child of her own.
But, the memories I have of her throughout the years are vivid. Seeing her bundled up in a snow suit where she could hardly move. Having her come into the backyard with her little friend. Having her cry out with glee, "Daddy!!!" when she saw me walk in the door from work. Taking her to a father/daughter square dance. Sitting on my lap, cuddling and watching TV. Watching her competitiveness, as she swam on swim teams, and won so many events. Seeing her go out on dates. Watching her drive. Taking her off to college. Seeing her get her college degree - the first woman on either side of the family to do so. Falling in love. Walking her down the aisle. Having her tell her mom & I she was pregnant, and doing so in a way only she could do. Being there when she gave birth to our grandson.
There are so many more things I could say about this wonderful woman and the memories I have of and with her. She grew from a beautiful baby into a beautiful woman. But, to me, she will always be My Little Girl.
Old Fart Mike
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