I changed my commute yesterday. Instead of going from the bedroom to my desk, I opened a satellite office on the back deck (Do not tell the tax man about that). About halfway through the morning I heard the echoes of my father’s voice, “Stop watching the grass grow.”
I was not amused. I had just returned from driving my oldest son back to Cleveland because he was compelled to get back to the university research lab and to prepare for his qualifying exams. He is much smarter than his Dad. But for me both these moments felt like “The Cat’s in the Cradle” lyrics coming to life. We had been sequestered together for 52 days when I dropped him off, we stayed up late every night playing “Call of Duty” (I am soooo bad at that game) that my eyeballs had popped out of my head. We even smoked some ribs. We also talked pretty much about everything.
What I realized this morning was that this will likely be the last 52 days in a row I get to spend with him and my youngest son for the rest of my life. I don’t find that depressing, they are successful and are doing things that they love. It just bothers me that I did not reverse the lessons my father had been taught and then taught me. Watching the grass grow can be healthy. It can clear your mind, it makes the obvious visible again, it takes the noise out of the day, it makes the imagination listen to the little voice in your head and most of all it gives you a chance to breath, to inventory the important things in your life and assess how well you are actually doing at being…human.
There are signs of life pivoting to a new normal soon. I’m not sure what that will mean to my newfound love of watching grass grow. What I can tell you is that the few minutes in time that I have watched it grow has given me the clarity and the inspiration to tackle what ever this world has in store as we come out of these interesting times.
To my boys, who may not be “just like me”, unlearn some of what I taught you, take some time to watch the grass grow.
To all of you:
If you’re on the front lines – take a breath and remember we all love and respect you and tell whoever is standing next to you the same and that we say THANK YOU!
If you’re stuck adjusting your commute, like me, to a different part of the house take a swing by the yard, I don’t know about you but mine looks marvelous.