Jason:
Running with Dad
Then:
Sun setting, humidity in the June evening air, I get ready for a big event. I’m going to go for a
run with my dad. Around the big block, in the dark! The space that encircles Rockwell
Elementary and includes friends’ homes. Dad doesn’t run much. In fact, he famously said, “I
don’t run unless I’m being chased” Tonight is different. He’s taking me around to train. During
the run, he’s encouraging, kind and laughing, making sure the experience is memorable. We
may have done one lap, perhaps more, but the excitement mixed with uncertainty made a
remarkable impact. I was doing something out of the norm, kinda scary and awesome! What
little kid runs at night? I should be at home, watching T.V. or finishing homework. What a story
I can tell my friends, my teammates. Rounding the last corner with Rockwell to my left, I see
home and all that comfort it provides. We finish the straight path, the final stretch, and
congratulate each other by the corner stop sign. I was home safe and having done something
unknown, but successfully finishing. Dad, thank you for the idea, support and memory!
Now:
No matter the time, early morning or after the sun sets on another day, darkness surrounds me
and I welcome it. As I venture out, guided by moonlight and stars, I’m running with a memory
of a person, an experience, wholesome and loving. I’m that child, all of 10 years old, nervous to
go around the block, in darkness, if it wasn’t for my dad right by my side. Feet pounding the
pavement, unsure of what’s ahead but knowing that with experience comes comfort and
knowledge.
What’s around the bend? Is that movement in the shadows? As he’s at my side, his voice assures
me to keep going, don’t be afraid. Tackle that hill and feel proud when you reach the top. He
also nudges me and tells me to slow down, pace yourself, take your time, in life.
Seasons change like stop lights. From warm, sticky air to the crunch of fallen leaves, I run
through it. He’s by my side, always.
As I turn the last few corners, inching ever closer home, I’m welcomed with familiar sights,
sounds, feelings of comfort. Support and love that is true, kind and everlasting, no matter the
result.
Humility mixes with pride as I approach one of my finish lines for the day. I rest up and know
he’s with me, side by side, father and son.
From Katie:
Like so many newly married couples, Jason and I were overjoyed with the purchase of our first
home. Of course, this came with a laundry list of fix-ups, wishes, and installations. For us, there
was no better handyman and jack of all trades than Jerry. We enlisted him right away, and he
happily obliged, as he always did.
The project of the day was putting a ceiling fan in our new master bedroom. Jerry and Jason had
been at it for a couple of hours, and Lucy and I were enjoying their show. The two joked and
chatted while I silently hoped neither would electrocute himself. Lucy dozed on and off,
enjoying an ear rub from Jerry every so often.
Finally, the phone rang; we had anticipated this call. It was the reason why Mary was not here
with us that afternoon. She was in Nebraska for one very special reason. Jerry stopped his work
to answer, and we watched as his smile grew. He clicked on the speakerphone so we could enjoy
the echoes of a newborn baby cry. “Ah, I recognize that sound,” he spoke, as he enjoyed the
news of his first grandson’s birth.
After we oohed and ahhed from here, Jerry turned the speaker off but continued his phone call.
“How are you feeling, Pumpkin?” His nicknames were specific and special, and used sparingly.
We knew he was checking on his daughter, a mom three times over that day. Then, he spoke
again to his beloved wife, thanked her for the call, congratulated her on being a nana once more,
and offered a “Love you” before hanging up. His back was turned to us; he’d been sitting on the
edge of our bed. He gave a big, happy sigh, and turned back with a grin. “Okay, what’s next,
Bud?”
That was Jerry. Working with his hands, helping his son, joyful about his family. It was a good
day. And the ceiling fan still works.
From Jameson:
What I remember most about Papa are his funny jokes and how he did the Goofy laugh!!
Another thing is at my birthday he sang happy birthday in a funny voice. Those are my favorite
memories of Papa.
From Harper:
My favorite memory of Papa was our fishing trip with the cousins! The first reason why I loved
this memory is because Papa was so calm, and he was a great instructor to all the grandchildren.
Another reason why I just loved the memory is that he chose the perfect spot to fish! The water
was so mellow and calm, it felt like the water was gently singing to us. The last reason why I
loved this memory is because all the grandchildren were a part of it and we really never have
that. In conclusion, that was my favorite memory of Papa.