YOUR WRIGHT

My Grandfather (on my mom’s side) was a very quiet man. “What are you doing boy?” is about the only thing I can remember him saying even remotely directed towards me...kind of the patriarchal version of “How’s the weather down there?” He wasn’t a tall man, but fat, and I can remember him completely filling the old Lazyboy style rocker that sat in the corner; and we kind of ignored him like he was actually a piece of furniture. His name was Orville but everyone called him O.W. which stood for Orville Wright. I thought it odd that he was named after the first man to fly, because other than the occasional tractor ride on the farm during planting season, he and that rocker seemed like they weren’t destined to leave the ground anytime soon. I'm sure he enjoyed the farming season because it allowed him to get out of that chair (and out of the house - he and my grandmother had a somewhat tumultuous relationship). Perhaps he was just sitting there, rocking away, reflecting on the last farming season, and looking forward to the next one.

Probably because of his name, I’ve always remembered the saying “Two wrongs don’t make a right, but two Wrights made an airplane,” or at least I thought it was a good dismantling of that old cliché. At one point I was determined to stick with ‘one word’ titles for these BLOGs, because too often I can get too clever with titles and give it all away before you’ve even started reading (kind of like the dreaded movie preview). But hopefully when you read this title you shuddered because it appears to break a half dozen spelling and grammar rules using only those two words.

When my daughter Rachel got married it was not without some consternation. She was only twelve at the time…well maybe 19, but the point is I wanted her to wait. Not because I didn’t approve of her ‘man’ or because I didn’t think that they were right for each other; I trusted her judgment there completely. Certainly part of it came from a father’s perspective of how mature you think you are at that age, but how young you really are; but more importantly it emanated from something I preached to my kids from grade school. Enjoy the season.

I always warned my kids that when you’re in grade school you can’t wait to get to junior high (mid high). While you’re in junior high, you can’t wait to get to highschool; you can’t wait to drive; you can’t wait to date; you can’t wait to graduate; you can’t wait to go to college and so on and so on. Each stage in life can very easily be a holding cell for being released into the wild of the next season. I cautioned them to enjoy the trip and not to be so concerned with the next destination.

I think that’s why I always preferred ‘car vacations’ versus ‘plane vacations’. Sure, there’s some enjoyment (not as much as it used to be) to boarding a plane, flying and landing, as well as being trapped in a small space with strangers, crying babies, loud talkers and fighting over the armrest with the largest person you’ve ever rubbed elbows with. But the car vacation, in addition to being way cheaper for a family of six, forces you to notice and pay attention to the ride, and makes the next phase of the trip that much more appreciated. Nice thing about a vacation is you get to go back home…in fact your house is usually somewhat frozen in time from when you left.

In life, you really can’t go back. You think junior high, going from room to room to room is so hard compared to grade school, until you get to High School, and then you see how easy you had it and now High School is the hardest thing you’ve ever endured. But then, college comes along with its dorms, finals, term papers, etc. and you understand just how easy (and fun) High School was. For the most part my children listened to me about this, but I heard older brother reiterating that same message to younger sisters a few years ago and was reminded that you just don’t fully appreciate the snow until it’s 105 degrees outside.

Matthew 6:34 So do not worry or be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will have worries and anxieties of its own. Sufficient for each day is its own trouble.

Rachel admitted to me years later that it was tougher than she thought it would be in those early years. I knew it’d be tough, but the first years of marriage are always tough at any age. That wasn’t the issue (for me). I just knew that one year in college (before marriage) was not ideal. It’s like a two day trip to Maui. Yeah, you went there, but your ‘mahalos’ were too close together. Rachel was ‘right’ to get married when she did. I was ‘right’ to want her not to rush through the college ‘year(s)’. Two ‘Wrights’ made an airplane, and back then, two ‘rights’ didn't make a 'wrong', it just made for a bumpy take-off. But a decade (and three or four grandkids) later I couldn’t be any prouder of her (and her family) or love her any more than I do as I hit this period.