Father’s Day- My Boy

One day when our son, Allen was about three years old, he was sick. It was one of the rare times that Dad stayed home and then took him to the doctor. Amy came home and tagged off, while I went to practice. Allen was not doing well. I came home from practice, and was worried about how Allen was doing. 

The medicine evidently had kicked in. Allen was nuts about Winnie the Pooh. Our house on Tamarind Dr. had a circle path where you could walk thru the living room into the kitchen, then out the other side and repeat the circuit. When I arrived, Allen had his drum out, his Pooh slippers on, and was marching around the circle, and demanding our dog, Lucy to follow. It had been a tough day, but Allen has always had the ability to make any of tough days turn into joy and happiness.

I relayed this story to a family friend, Dawn Snyder who had three teenage children at the time. I told her that I didn’t want Allen to grow up because I enjoyed him too much right now at this age. Dawn’s advice,”With your children, every age turns out to be the best age.” She was absolutely right. Being a father and watching Allen has been a joy all 27 years.

My present to myself for Father’s Day is to take some time to remember some of the wonderful moments I have experienced being a dad, and watching Allen growing up. If you want to follow along with me, great- but I am just going to write and to smile.

Wisconsin vs Indiana- By the time was four years old, I had successfully totally brain washed him into being a Wisconsin Badger fan. I wanted to take him to a football game in the fall of 2001. As anyone knows, getting permission from an other to take their four year old on an overnight trip requires going thru the same level of interrogation that the FBI used during the Kennedy assasination. After passing the questions with many reservations, I was given permission with a list of 10 conditions. I can still picture the “two guys” with our suitcases (Allen’s was a Pooh suitcase), getting off the elevator. The night before was great- we went out and got a pizza and brought it back to the room. We ate pizza and watched college football until 11pm. Allen asked,”Is it ok to stay up this late?” I told him of course, it was a guys weekend. 

Going to a Wisconsin vs Indiana game (or vs Iowa, or vs Illinois), those are “celebration Saturdays! This day, things went from bad to worse. At one point Indiana scored to go up 35-6. Utter silence fell over the stadiaum of 80,000 people. You could hear a pin drop. At that point, my four year old companion, loudly turned to me and said,”Dad, can we be for Indiana?” Our entire section roared. And for the rest of the afternoon as Indiana won 73-32, every time Indiana scored, people in our section yelled,”Dad, can we be for Indiana?”

Breakfast with Grandpa- For much of Allen’s early years, Amy worked part-time so was at home in both the morning and the afternoon. But one day a week, she worked a full day. On those days, Grandpa Ben came over early to be with Allen. And Grandpa brought breakfast. The night before Allen would call to make his breakfast request. I wish I had a recording of those conversations. It was just two guys making their plans for the morning. Their relationship was special.

Basement Hoops- We had a regulation basket set at about five feet in our basement. As a preschooler, we would go down and play basketball. It was so much fun, of course we trashed talked. You have not lived until your have heard a 4-5 year old attempt to trash talk. Allen always won. He set up a whole routine after victories. He took a cassette players down, and pumped up “We Are the Champions” after each victory. And we had a medal hanging around a light switch. Allen got up on a little step stool with the music playing and I had to present the medal.

As he got older, I decided he needed to learn to handle losing. One night before bed, we played. I kicked his little butt. He was ready to head up stair mad. As only a warped dad would do, I yelled for him to come back. I didn’t turn the music on, but had him present me the medal. (I honestly did try to explain what I was doing- but he wanted no part of listening.) he headed up to bed in tears. 

I learned that night not to mess with a mother’s boy. It probably took her an hour to put him to bed, and then it took an hour for me to listen to his mother tell not to ever do that again.

Teaching the Alphabet- In July before Allen headed to kindergarten, Allen’s mother decided I had the time, it would be good to try to teach him the alphabet. It was good bonding time and Allen was an eager student. But after a week of lessons, I realized I was never going to teach him the difference between a b/d or p/q. Teaching high school social studies is a lot easier than teaching pre-school! Fortunately we had a grade school teacher on call. Our neighbor, Ruth Ann Hanlon was able to come over and convince Allen to relax and not worry about the alphabet the rest of the summer.

Free Throw Champs- One of the most things Allen and I did was to go to the Wisconsin Father-Son Basketball Camp. Allen was probably 8 or 9 years old. The camp included players who were in HS and there were probably 350 campers. They had a FT contest in each group- son shot 5 and father shot 5. Allen made 5 and I made 3, we were group winners and advanced to finals. We had to win 3 more times to get to the championships. Only once did I have more than Allen, he was carrying us. We advanced to the finals. In front of the entire camp, we shot against a freshman in HS and his dad. We won the championship of the entire camp with Allen carrying us. I have experienced the utter joy of having a team win a game and going to state, but I can honestly say this win brought me the greatest happiness of any win I have been apart of- to share it with Allen was incredible. (And I must point out that even though there was a clerical error that helped us- we won the championship again the next year.)

First Day of High School- I had looked forward to teaching at GHS with Allen as a student. The first day we drove to school together, I was so excited because I had looked forward to it for so long. We got out and headed in. I was busy talking to him, giving last minute advice. As I got to the door I realized Allen was about 50 feet behind me. He didn’t say anything but the message was clear that he wasn’t ready to be seen with Dad at school. It was important message for me to receive. 

By his junior year, his comfort level changed. He was in my Advisory each day, and he took 5 different classes from me over the his last two years. He would come in before school and use my computer, and hang out. In classes, we never talked about whether he should call me “Dad” or “Mr.Massey.” He elected to just call me “Coach.” And the kids liked that- so by the time I retired, nobody in class called me Mr. Massey. Kids who had never seen a basketball game in their life called me “Coach.” Allen was a trend setter. Imagine if everyday for two years you got to spend an hour or two with your teenage son- it was the best two years teaching of my career.

Mom- The spring of Allen’s senior year, as a family we were at the supper table (Amy required we eat together as a family), I was trying to Allen something he needed to do, but he was not interested. I said,”Maybe if I make you that unhappy, it is time for you to go to college.” Before anyone else could reply, Amy said,”Does that mean I can go to college too?” 

Yes, I have to admit at some point in our family that Amy and Allen realized they needed to “raise me.” As a Dad, I am so fortunate that my wife was such a great mother. Her caring and compassion for others, her even tempered approach to stressful situations, her toughness in dealing with adversity, and her selfless work ethic were all passed onto Allen. 

Conclusion- I have many, many happy memories of “being a dad.” Dawn Snyder was absolutely correct- every age has been great, and I am confident it will only keep getting better as we watch Allen in his life journey. 

I have heard the best way to judge a man is in how he treats his mother. The greatest thrill for me as a dad is to see how my son treats his mother. My happiest times as a father have been watching Allen’s love, concern, and support of his mother. 

It has been a joy being Allen’s dad! To quote Bill Walton,”I am the luckiest man in the world!”